#Alana you tried your best I’m so sorry you deserve so much better
Text
Two Timed
__
Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Reader
Warnings: Language, Angst.
Requested by: @vampirevatican
A/N (edit): I hear you guys’ plea for a part 2. I have another request to write, but it is on my radar!
Word Count: 2,598
“Don’t give him the satisfaction of a second chance.”
__
You had been suspicious for awhile. It was surely hard to ignore the tug in your chest that was telling you something was off. In the seven years you had been married to Hannibal Lecter, you had learned how to be a keen observer. You had learned to be a careful listener and a focused watcher. In a general sense, he had taught you to be extremely in touch with all of your senses. This was turning out to be your worst nightmare.
For starters, he was later coming home from work. You initially shrugged this off as perhaps he was off doing his unspeakable errands. However, the situation became very clear when he came home with just the slightest bit of lipstick on his shirt collar. Something that a non-observant person would blatantly miss. After that, all the signs were like a stop sign in your face. The unfamiliar scent of perfume that lingered around him when he walked past you. The simple yet vague answers he would give when you asked him about his day. It all came together quickly and life as you knew it was crashing down.
You didn’t want to believe that he was cheating on you. Hannibal Lecter, the most refined and morally just man you had ever known, being unfaithful to his wife. It was shocking and quite ironic. You didn’t want to have to go snooping for answers. You had always respected Hannibal’s space and personal belongings and never touched anything without asking first. However, you were too upset one fateful evening to care at this point. You searched every part of his study searching for even the smallest hint as of to who this mystery woman was.
That’s when you found the letter.
It wasn’t easy to spot. It wasn’t exactly sitting in plain view. You had to rummage through stacks of papers and folders before you saw it. The letter had been written on archival paper, something a little more formal and had some weight to it as it rested in your hands. The seamless piece of paper was addressed to “My dearest Alana” in Hannibal’s unmistakable handwriting.
Oh.
Your heart sank into your shoes when you read the header. This had to be a mistake. Surely this wasn’t the Dr. Alana Bloom who had been over for dinner on multiple occasions. The woman who had been mentored by your husband when she was in school to be a psychiatrist. It made your stomach curl in the worst way. The very woman who was acting as your husband’s mistress had been under your nose the entire time. You had almost wished she had been a stranger to you.
The fact that you were finding out due to a letter was a double smack in the face. When you were dating Hannibal, he often would write you letters of the same magnitude. They expressed his deepest care and feelings for you. It was his way of pouring his soul and heart out to you. Now it seemed that had meant absolutely nothing.
Hot tears wasted no time filling your eyes and streaming your cheeks. This was the most betrayal you had ever felt. You were overwhelmed with anger, sadness, disappointment, and hurt all at the same time. How could he do this to you? You never in a million years would you have seen this coming. He was so adamant about people who were disrespectful and had no regard for others. This was very out of character.
You shoved the letter back where you found it and raced to your car. There was no way you could stay here. You needed to get away to think. You needed to find someone who would care enough to listen before you did something stupid. Will Graham was your first immediate thought. You had been friends with him before ever knowing Hannibal. As a matter of fact, you met Hannibal through Will. You knew Will would listen. He was always there for you no matter what...whether he cared to be or not. His home was about an hour away from you and Hannibal’s shared home. It was a bit of a drive, but you were desperate. You pondered how to handle the situation while you were in commute.
Your immediate solution was to turn Hannibal in to the police. You knew he was the killer they had been looking for. It would be the ultimate revenge and the most badass way to leave your lasting mark. You could have Hannibal Lecter at your mercy. You had the power to end his reign of cannibalistic terror. Unfortunately this plan had its leaks and you realized something infuriating. Hannibal would always be one step ahead. More than likely, he’d find out that you knew of the affair just as you were reporting him to Jack Crawford. He would obviously know that giving him up would be your first response and he’d have ample amount of time to get away without a trace.
And then you’d end up dead at his hands.
Damn him. At the time being, you were unsure of what to do. You could never attempt to live life as it was before while also knowing of his secret affair. That would be too cruel to yourself. You were worth way more than that. You deserved better.
After what felt like an eternity, you pulled into Will’s yard. You hoped he wouldn’t mind an unexpected visit. It wasn’t too terribly late into the night, only about 9:15 or so. You knocked on his front door gently, this was followed by a sound from the inside of multiple sets of fuzzy paws rushing towards the door, alerting their human that he had a visitor. You peeked through the window to see a group of wagging tails and bright canine eyes. Oh, to be one of Will’s stray pups. You would always be well fed, treated with care, and have a cozy place to live. What a life.
Will approached the door finally, his brows slightly dipping upon seeing your reddened eyes and flushed skin. You managed to hold it together long enough to muster a shaky greeting once he opened the door;
“Hi, Will.”
He was holding the doorknob with one hand, his other resting on the door frame;
“Hello,” He said suspiciously; “Have you been crying?”
Your lip quivered at his questions and a fresh round of tears welled up;
“Can I come in?” You asked choking down a sob.
A brief flash of panic crossed the unofficial FBI agent’s face. He didn’t do well with a crying woman. He stepped aside to allow you to enter his home. You were happily welcomed by his dogs, Winston even sitting by your feet to request an ear rub. You squatted in front of him and stroked his soft, honey colored fur. He licked your salty tears from your cheeks, a sad laugh coming from your chest.
Will closed the door behind him and frantically tried to see if he could figure out what was wrong without having to ask and further upset you. He noted that you weren’t wearing your wedding ring. You never left the house without it, so he knew it had something to do with Hannibal. Once you rose back from the floor and turned to him, he spoke;
“Did Hannibal do something?” He asked as gently as possible.
He hated seeing you upset. He didn’t want to make it worse. You nodded in response, the flood of emotions washing over you again. The reality of the situation was really beginning to set in.
“Yeah. He...He’s cheating on me,” You said with a cracking voice. You went on at the sight of Will’s face going white; “I found a love letter in his study.”
His eyes widened as he took a moment to process what you were saying. Who would ever want to be unfaithful to you? You were perfect in every way.
“Are you sure it wasn’t for you? Perhaps he hadn’t addressed it yet?” He offered a simple solution.
If only that simplicity was the truth. You fell onto his sofa and shook your head;
“It was addressed to Alana.” You stated.
Now that made his blood turn cold. This couldn’t be happening.
“Alana Bloom? What makes you so sure it’s her?” He asked in disbelief, sitting next to you
“Because she’s the only Alana that Hannibal and I both know, Will. She’s the only logical person. They go way back.” You said feeling defeated.
Will stressfully ran a hand through his hair. As a third party this was a lot to take in. He could only imagine how you were feeling. Just like you, he never would’ve expected this from either of them.
“[Y/N], I’m sorry.” He apologized.
He couldn’t help but feel a little responsible. He was the one who had introduced you two after all. He felt that this could’ve been avoided.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” You said honestly; “I’m sorry for coming over here and making this your problem too. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Your problems can always be mine. I guarantee that. You can always come here.” He comforted.
You gave the best smile you could. Will had really always been there for you. If he was being honest, he wanted to kiss you in that moment. He just wanted you to understand how much he cared about you. He never wanted you to doubt it. But he didn’t kiss you. He would never take advantage of your emotions like that. After all, you were still a married woman. He didn’t want to force you to stoop to Hannibal’s level. Instead, he just put a hand over yours and rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand.
On the subject of Hannibal, your phone had buzzed in your bag several times over the last several minutes. You knew it was Hannibal wondering where you were. You also knew he would quickly figure out that you were at Will’s home considering that he’s the only person you’d ever go see this late at night. It wouldn’t be long before Hannibal would be at his front door looking for you.
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t live with him knowing he’s got someone on the side.” You admitted.
“You especially shouldn’t live with him now. You can’t stay married.” He advised.
You knew this. You had a strict rule that always applied to your previous relationships. There was no excuse for cheating. That would be a dealbreaker every time. Divorce was common, but you never thought you’d end up a divorced woman.
“I know. I mean what do I say to him?” You asked.
Will tucked his head to the side. It was a loaded question for sure. He wasn’t the relationship expert. He hadn’t had many serious relationships in his life.
“Tell him how you feel. Make sure he understands how much he’s hurt you. Don’t hold back just because you love him,” He replied; “Don’t give him the satisfaction of a second chance.”
You were listening against your better judgement. You wanted so badly for this to just be a horrible dream. You wanted to wake up and this not be real. Silence fell over the both of you. You were out of things to say. You started sobbing again, collapsing into Will’s arms. He held you as you cries filled his home and caused his dogs to whine in sympathy. Your pity party was interrupted by a knock on the door a few minutes later.
The man of the hour had arrived.
Part of you wanted to run away and never see him again, but then you’d never get to tell him how you felt. And also he’d find you in record time. Will shot you a look before getting up to answer the door. Hannibal was standing there, still in his work suit and his demeanor was as cool as ever.
“Hello, Will. Is [Y/N] here? She doesn’t seem to be at home,” He stated.
“Yeah,” Will responded flatly; “She’s here. You’ve got some nerve showing up here, Dr. Lecter.”
Will was upset. His trusted psychiatrist had hurt his best friend by using his other friend. He had a right to be angry. Hannibal looked over Will’s shoulder to find you on the couch. He pushed past Will and into the room;
“Darling, I really wish you had informed me that you were going to be here.” He said disregarding Will’s previous sentence.
You stood from the couch. You were furious, yet calm. You stood in front of your husband, looking into his dark eyes with a numb expression. This was your chance.
“I know, Hannibal. I know about you and Alana.” You confessed.
While his face didn’t show any signs of shock, his heart skipped a beat. He obviously had never planned on you finding out, so this wasn’t what he expected. Will was watching, arms crossed as he observed.
“How did you find out?” Hannibal asked nonchalantly.
If he had to guess, he would’ve suspected that maybe Alana came clean to Will who conveyed the truth. That was the first time Hannibal would’ve been wrong about anything.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know about it. And I want you to know how much you’ve hurt me because of it.” You said.
You weren’t crying anymore. You were past that point.
“When I said ‘I do’ on our wedding day, I meant it. Every word of my vows was the truth. I was ecstatic to spend my life with you. I was beyond thrilled to have forever to spend with someone I loved. I just wish I had known it didn’t go both ways,” You spoke softly; “If our marriage wasn’t what you signed up for, then I suppose I owe you an apology. But if it was everything you expected and it still wasn’t enough...then I don’t know what to tell you. I gave you...I gave us everything I had. My whole heart and soul. I wanted to be sure we were each other’s forever. But I see I didn’t do as well as I could have.”
Hannibal was speechless. There wasn’t anything he could say. He was ashamed. Ashamed of getting caught and ashamed for hurting an innocent person. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your wedding ring. You silently took his hand and placed it in his palm. It was cliche, but it was powerful. You were done.
“I’ll be moved out by tomorrow. Don’t try calling me. Don’t come looking for me. I’m leaving. I hope you can live with what you’ve done,” You said brushing past him.
You looked at Will as you went to exit his home. He knew you’d call him in a few days after you had time to yourself. You would never leave him behind. You stopped at the door, leaving Hannibal with one final sentence;
“Goodbye, Hannibal.”
You walked down the front porch steps and into your car. You didn’t know where you were going to go, but you had to get away somewhere. You drove away in silence, letting the road take you wherever it wanted. You couldn’t help but reflect on the good times you had with Hannibal. It would be inhuman not to. At the end of the day, even if it didn’t work out, Hannibal was your love story. You would never be able to change that.
No matter how hard you tried.
#hannibal#hannibal nbc#hannibal lecter#hannibal x reader#hannibal lecter x reader#hannibal lecter imagines#hannibal lecter ask
467 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kaiseki
2x01
Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham
Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, angst
Author’s Note: Season! Two! This may be a little harder cause Will is in jail and it’s to big a plot point to change. But i love will graham so much dudes. I hope you guys enjoy!
I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine.
Official Episode Summary : The psychological thriller based on the Hannibal Lecter legend returns. FBI profiler Will Graham has been framed for Lecter's crimes and wants revenge.
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director
Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll
(not my gif)
“Kaiseki. A Japanese art form that honors the taste and aesthetic of what we eat,” Hannibal said to Jack Crawford as he sat at his table. The lighting of the room was pleasing but also semi threatening. Not that Jack noticed. He wasn’t very good at noticing things. Hannibal himself had noticed that.
“I feel guilty eating it,” Jack said, looking down at the dish. It was amazingly well put together. It was no surprise that Hannibal had done it.
“I never feel guilty eating anything,” Hannibal said with a small mischievous smile. Jack took a bite and chewed a bit.
“Can’t quite place the fish.”
“He was a flounder. I last prepared this meal for my Aunt Murasaki under similarly unfortunate circumstances,” Hannibal said. Jack waited for him to go on and when he didn’t he nodded.
“What circumstances were those?” Hannibal shrugged.
“A loss. This is a loss. Will is a loss. We’re mourning a death,” Hannibal said gently.
“Will’s ‘death’ is on me,” Jack said. Hannibal took a bite of his food and chewed for a moment, considering this.
“It’s on both of us.”
“I doubt that Y/N would consider you had anything to do with it,” Jack suggested. Hannibal smiled a tad at the mention of your name and the fact that you likely wouldn’t suggest Hannibal was much to blame.
“I tended to be kinder to her and more compassionate to Will,” he said.
“Abigail thought that you liked them both a bit more,” Jack said chuckling. Hannibal shrugged.
“We’re all friends.”
“Do you have friends Hannibal?” Hannibal shrugged.
“I had Will. And of course Y/N.” Jack pointed his fork at Hannibal.
“I don’t understand how you managed to stay in her good graces.”
“I suppose she had about as many friends as I did.”
“I still can’t comprehend it. Will’s gonna be convicted of five murders. I’ll be convicted of one,” Jack muttered.
“You’re not on trial.”
“I will be. In the halls of the FBI. So will you. According to Will Graham, this was all you. Another place where I’m not sure why Y/N continues to see you.”
“Will was your bloodhound. You can’t ignore where he points.” Hannibal smiled at his plate. “And I do believe you’ll be on a trail in her mind as well.” Jack sighed.
“What’s one more person to convict me,” Jack said.
-
Alana stood beside you. You had a few papers in your hand. The only reason you were still Hannibal’s secretary at all was so that you could have the hours off to come and advocate for Will. Alana handed you another piece of paper and you looked over it.
“You’re a goddess Alana,” you muttered. In your hands you held all the complaints and disagreements Alana had ever had with Jack about Will. Behind the scenes she had been formally sending in a few letters when she believed, like you, that Will should not have been put into the field.
“You can give Jack all the hell you want but until the FBI looks into it, nothing will happen. And Will’s entire life has changed due to Jack’s actions. It deserves to be documented.” You nodded, a smile gracing your face. She put her hand on your cheek and made you look at her which you did. “You don’t look so good.”
“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “This has put a rare smile on my face,” you promised. She pursed her lips. She looked into your eyes and moved her hand away but she still looked concerned.
“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that Will Graham has a fair trial and that he isn’t convicted.”
“Because you think he did it but he wasn’t in the right mind,” you muttered.
“You do too right?”
“I don’t think he did it period.” She shook her head.
“Then who did? And don't’ say Hannibal otherwise I’m going to have to throw you in the hospital.” You shook your head. You felt tired. You hadn’t been getting much sleep. It was probably an attachment issue when it came down to it. Not being able to sleep beside Will was harder than you thought it would be. The bed always felt cold. Other than that, you had been worried about Will here. Your mind wandered when you tried to sleep about everything that was going through his head. You had the dogs. He had Frederick Chilton.
“I don’t know who did it Alana. I would like to converse with my boyfriend about that but Chilton has limited visiting hours the bastard.”
“I’ll try and talk with him. We’re sort of friendly. I think I yelled at him about something a while back but he doesn’t seem to remember it.” You nodded and handed her back the papers on Jack.
“Make him pay.” She nodded.
“I will.”
-
The phone rang as you sat on the porch with the dogs. Winston sat in front of you while the others played and whined at the door. He had been doing that on and off since Will was arrested. You picked up the phone and pet Winston, trying your best to calm him down.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Bev said. You tried to make some emotion come out when you spoke next but nothing emerged.
“Hey.” Bev cleared her throat. You didn’t want to fight her. You truly had no interest in it. In fact, Bev had always been in your corner so the worry that she might not be today would have made your heart hurt if it wasn’t already pretty numb with bitterness.
“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she said.
“As well as you may expect. But I appreciate you calling.” She hummed.
“I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t ever agree with Jack.” You scoffed.
“You could say that again.” She laughed lightly.
“I’m going to see Will soon. For help on this case. Jack doesn’t know. But I kinda wanted to tell you first so that he didn’t tell you and then you were by default pissed at me.” You weren’t very pleased to hear that but there wasn’t much else you could do.
“I would go in saying you support him or something. He might help you more.”
“Thank you.”
-
Hannibal noticed you at the desk. He wasn’t having many patients and didn’t expect to see you. You still had on your coat and looked like you weren’t staying. But still, you looked over the computer and let out a sigh.
“Do you need something?” he asked. You looked up, surprised to see him. He also didn’t look like he was staying. “I thought I gave you a few days off.” He knew he did. He did it explicitly.
“I just thought I left the necklace Will gave me here. I guess not. It’s probably in his car but I have no idea where he put the keys,” you said and laughed dryly in remembrance of sweeter times. “Where are you off to?”
“I have to go and see a crime scene,” he said. Your eyes went wide and another dry laugh left your lips.
“Nice to see you ‘the new Will Graham’,” you muttered.
“I don’t think Jack intended it to be like that.” You shook your head.
“No because you can’t be nearly as good at it as Will was.” Hannibal was the only person to notice the shift in your emotions correctly. Not from happy to sad. It was from normal to bitter. He would likely see the same shift in Will Graham if he decided to go see him.
“Would you like to come?”
“Is that the best idea? Doing my boyfriends old job with Jack Crawford watching me like I was going to slip up at any given second?” Hannibal shrugged.
“Perhaps it would be good for you. Step where Will once did.” You shook your head.
“Thanks Hannibal but I can’t today. Maybe another murder.”
“Off to see Will?”
“Off to attempt to see Will. Perhaps have a fist fight with Frederick Chilton. I’ll decide in the car.” Hannibal laughed lowly and walked over to you. He put a hand on your arm and you leaned into his touch, happy someone was touching you.
“If you ever need a dinner,” he started and you nodded.
“I’ll call.”
“You’re not worried about what Will says about me are you?” he asked. You shrugged.
“I don't know yet. I just have to talk to him.” Hannibal nodded and you looked up at him. “I care about you Hannibal.” He was silent for a moment and then hugged you, placing his hand on the back of your head.
“I care about you as well.” And for once, Hannibal was not lying.
-
Chilton shook his head.
“You will only hinder his therapy,” he said simply. You shook your head and walked up to his desk.
“Do you think for one second I would do anything that could cause Will to be this bad ever again? I can’t simply not see him.”
“What if he doesn’t want to see you?” Chilton asked. You were stumped at that. Your face fell.
“Did he say that?”
“Not in so many words. Just maybe that it would be better for you to live a life on your own.” You shook your head and a small smile went over your lips.
“You’re lying.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I know Will Graham better than anyone in this whole world and he is just conceited and rude enough to tell you to go to hell before saying that about me.” Chilton looked up at you from his spot behind his desk. You stared hard into his eyes.
“Alright,” he muttered. “Once a week. Thirty minutes.” You nodded, happy your point had been made. “Come back tomorrow.” You nodded and turned around, taking your small victory with you out the door.
-
“How was Dr. Bloom’s visit?” Hannibal asked. He sat across from Chilton at dinner in his home.
“He asked her to hypnotize him to recover memories. This is delicious,” he muttered, pointing at the food.
“Was he successful?”
“Only in playing Dr. Bloom. It’s sad to see a brilliant psychiatrist fall for such hoary old chestnuts,” Chilton said simply.
“She wants to believe him. I do, too.” Chilton looked disappointed at that and looked down at his plate, then back at Hannibal.
“Will’s girlfriend paid me a visit earlier. She seems like a piece of work. I understand why they go so well together.” Hannibal shrugged. Chilton could tell he was acting as though he were indifferent despite clearly having a side. He just wasn't sure which side that was.
“She’s stubborn but rightly so,” Hannibal said.
“What, you think I should let her see him? I agreed to once a week but I’m still on the fence.” Chilton chewed on a bite.
“I don’t see how it could hurt. In fact, if you plan to utilize the cameras and audio you might get something out of it,” Hannibal suggested. He was very aware that Chilton wanted nothing to do with something he couldn’t get a thing out of.
Chilton thought this over.
“Perhaps I could give her a few extra minutes. If you think that would be wise.” Hannibal shrugged.
“Maybe I could think about it.”
-
Hannibal sat in the car with you outside of the hospital.
“Will has made accusations against me. Very serious ones,” Hannibal said.
“Again, I’ll make up my mind about those when I talk with him.” You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. It was just Will. You weren’t scared of Will or anything. Perhaps it was the anticipation.
“But bear in mind who you know me to be,” he said. You nodded and thought really hard about what you knew Hannibal to be.
“You hid the fact that Abigail killed someone,” you muttered. “Who says you weren’t the murderer after all?”
“You and Will also hid that. Perhaps you’re the murderer.”
“If I was the murderer Jack Crawford would be sprawled very neatly across a particular place,” you muttered bitterly.
“I don’t doubt that,” Hannibal said chuckling. You turned to him and he held your hand, squeezing it once. “Best of luck.”
You got out of the car.
-
The walk to the cell was a long one. It was odd, the anticipation of knowing Will was so close. When he came into view his eyes were closed. At the sound of your footsteps they opened.
He turned to you slowly and you smiled subtly.
“Where were you?”
“Fishing,” he whispered.
“Sorry I interrupted.” He shook his head.
“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.” You walked up to the bars and put your hands on them. He did the same, your hands touching. He was warm but not boiling as he had been when he had that nasty fever.
“I only have like, 30 minutes.” He nodded.
“Step back to the white line ma’am!” the guard at the end of the hall called. You turned around but didn’t move an inch.
“No!” you called back. Will laughed dryly.
“You’re supposed to be scared of me,” he whispered. You shook your head.
“Ma’am!” The guards walked over to you and you shook your head angrily, stepping back to the line, so far away from Will. But you didn’t want to be kicked out.
“I’m not scared of him,” you said to the guard.
“Doesn’t matter. The white line,” he said to you. You nodded stiffly and he walked away. The distance felt greater than it really was. When the guard closed the door at the end of the hall you stepped back to the bars.
“You’ve never followed any rules have you?” he asked, laughing.
“Not once. Now go on.”
“I resurfaced a memory.” You nodded, gesturing for him to go on. “Chilton can hear us.”
“That was the memory?”
“No,” he said and laughed a bit. “Just telling you we need to be quiet.” You nodded. “Hannibal shoved that ear down my throat.”
“Abigails?”
“No the other one.” You nodded, accepting your ignorance.
“And you think he did all this?”
“I know that they already looked at him and Beverly looked over everything but I know he did this. When i remember what happened to me I can tell you more.” You looked at the ground.
“Did he do stuff to you while I was in the other room?” Will shook his head.
“Don’t blame yourself.”
“I do. I blame myself for letting this happen and if Hannibal, no matter how much I like him, did this to you than how can I ever-”
“Just don’t trust him.”
“He’s all I have out there. Him and Alana. And the dogs.”
“How are the dogs?” he asked.
“Winston misses you. Sometimes he thinks he misses you more than I do,” you whispered.
“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”
“Neither do you. But I like not cutting the hair,” you muttered and messed with his curls. He gripped your hand tighter around the bar. “I wish you could come home.”
“Me too. Honestly.”
“Soon,” you promised. “Alana has some things she wants to look into.”
“And I keep firing lawyers.”
“FBI lawyers,” you corrected. “I would too.” You looked at your watch and he glanced over to it as well.
“20 more minutes,” he whispered. His eyes caught yours and he gestured for you to sit down. You both did. “Tell me about your day.”
2x02
#will graham x reader#will graham imagines#hannibal lecter x reader#hannibal lecter imagines#hannibal lecter x reader x will graham#will graham x reader x hannibal lecter
211 notes
·
View notes
Text
the you i fell in love with
connor murphy x female!reader
a/n: not me writing a fic about mike faist’s connor murphy 2 years after he left the show...... also Connor is probably ooc
summary: you were Connor’s girlfriend who lived in the next town over, a little over a half hour away. his family didn’t know about you, no one did. he didn’t want his family or anyone he knew to scare you away. in the end, it didn’t really matter. he was gone. when the Connor Project came to be and Evan resigned from being co-president, you ran into him. you questioned him about his “friendship” with Connor and he told you everything.
set after the Murphy’s find out the truth and before the Evan/Zoe reunion at the orchard.
second person pov
warning: a few swear words, also very brief mention of depression and taking your own life, and Larry Murphy kind of being a dick
word count: 5,573
______
“Who are you exactly?” Evan questioned the girl who pulled him off to the side of the supermarket where no one else was around. To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement, he was freaking out on the inside.
“I’m so sorry! I probably scared you half to death dragging you along like that.. I just have some questions for you, if you don’t mind answering..?” You smiled at him sheepishly. Something about your awkward smile eased his mind a bit, but not enough. “No, sorry my mom actually is waiting for me by the-” “It’s about Connor!” You interrupted, looking at him through sad, heartbroken eyes. “..Please. Evan Hansen. I know you weren’t really friends with him. I know you weren’t even secret friends with him.. Because if you were, I would’ve known.”
Evan looked around before looking back at you, confused. “Who are you?” He asked for the second time. “I’m- I was Connor’s girlfriend. Y/N L/N. I met him 2 years ago at the apple orchard you guys rebuilt? We both went there because we thought that no one else would be there and that it would be the perfect place to escape. His family and classmates never knew about me because he-” you laugh slightly,” he was afraid they would take me away from him. Or that his family would fight in front of me and he’d lose his cool or that his sister would say nasty things about him to ‘spare me from being in a relationship with him’ or even that the bullies at his school would turn me against him even though he knew damn well I could never.” You stopped rambling and passed him a Polaroid picture of the two of you, sitting against the chain link fence that surrounded the old abandoned apple orchard. You were looking up at Connor with heart eyes as he smiled back down at you. A real smile. This was the real Connor Murphy.
Evan looked up from the picture at you, shocked before quickly returning it to you. “Oh my god... You must think I’m such a h- horrible person for doing all this and pretending to be best friends with your- your dead boyfriend- I’m so sorry for your loss by the way- and making up all these stories about things we never really did and starting a whole online campaign about-” “Evan!” He stopped ranting, breathing heavily. “Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Relax.”
It was silent for a moment before Evan mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”
You smiled knowingly. “Now. Mind telling me everything?”
The two of you sat in your old beat up truck, as Evan told you everything. And by everything i mean everything. He started from the very beginning, “My dad left when I was 7 so now it’s just me and my mom. She works all the time at the hospital to support us and to pay for her education- she’s studying to be a paralegal- and so I’m usually home alone. I have anxiety so I take medication and go to therapy where I have to write a letter to myself hyping myself up for the day and trying to be positive and stuff-” “’Dear Evan Hansen’...”
He looked up from his hands at you, “Yeah.. Connor had one of my letters when he- um.. he took it from me earlier that day..” “It was your therapy letter? Why did he take it from you?” “Oh! You see he didn’t actually know it was a letter to myself for therapy he just thought I was being creepy and writing about his sister in a letter to print it out where he would find it and freak out and explode or something- That wasn’t why though, I didn’t even know he was in the room with me, I thought I was alone. He signed my cast before he read my letter, though. He said, ‘Now we both can pretend we have friends.’ Which is why I thought doing what I did would be okay but it wasn’t and it never will be and I really shouldn’t justify my actions because it was-” “Evan breathe.” “Right, sorry.” “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” “Okay sor-” You gave him a pointed look.
“O-okay...” You giggled slightly, looking out of the window at the supermarket parking lot, “So.. he ran out with your letter, pissed because he thought you were fucking with him... And then he killed himself.” “Yeah.”
“So what happened after that?” “The Murphy’s showed up in the principal’s office three days later. I knew something was wrong because Connor and Zoe both weren’t in school and I know Connor skips but it’s not likely that they would both be out on the same days. Zoe doesn’t really skip school- she’s not that kind of person.” You nodded, gesturing to get to the point. “Right, they called me into the office because Connor had my letter and my name was on it so they thought the letter was for me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t- that I was the one who wrote it, but they were in denial. They kept reading parts of my letter back to me from memory, trying to make sense of it but I couldn’t tell them- I couldn’t get through to them....” He sighed.
“They invited me over to dinner and I went because I wanted to set the record straight but when I got there, they wanted to hear everything I knew about Connor. But I didn’t know anything, so whenever they brought something up I just nodded and agreed. Zoe was getting suspicious so I started to make things up. ‘Connor loved to talk about how much he hated skiing.’ ‘Connor took us to A La Mode and we ate our ice cream in the apple orchard where we climbed trees and raced across the open fields.’ ‘We would quote songs by our favorite bands.’ ‘We’d tell jokes no one else would understand.’ All lies. And they believed them. They wanted me to keep talking, they needed me to. They were broken and I just wanted to help them. I told them that we were friends on the internet where we’d email each other to talk about our day and stuff. And Connor would use a secret email account because he knew his dad was checking his regular email, and he didn’t want anyone to know we were friends.... Now that I think about it, this kind of sounds like your story.” You laughed, lightening the mood, and nodded.
“You know, you really aren’t that far off from who Connor was, despite the fact that you were making it up as you went. He wasn’t the monster that everyone thought he was. I mean sure in 2nd grade he pushed over a printer because he had a little tantrum about being skipped for line leader, but what kid doesn’t have a tantrum at least once in their life? It definitely didn’t help that all those kids grew up, making the story sound worse than it really was. He was always angry and stand-offish because everyone in his life would say shit about him that wasn’t true or be nice to him to get close enough to learn something new about him and then turn around and make fun of him for it. He was battling depression and needed help but his family didn’t want to believe there was anything actually wrong with him. I was the only one to believe him. To believe in him. But I’m just one person, and I guess that wasn’t enough..” You trailed off. Evan awkwardly put a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to console you.
It was silent for a moment. “I think he would’ve liked you. It would’ve taken him a while to warm up to you, but I really do think the two of you could’ve been friends.” Evan smiled slightly, before frowning. “I pretended to be his friend for so long, but Alana- she’s the co-president of the Connor Project- started getting suspicious about our friendship, saying that the letters didn’t make sense because it sounded like Connor was getting better so I showed her Connor’s ‘suicide note’-” “Dear Evan Hansen, It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?”
“...Yeah. She believed me too. I told her not to show anyone because it was a really private thing, but she just said that was exactly what people needed to see. She posted it and people on the internet started to attack the Murphy’s, saying things like ‘They’re a rich family who couldn’t bother to pay for their son to get help?’ and ‘I’m not saying to do anything illegal but their house is the pale yellow house at the end of the cul de sac with a red door.’” Your hand flew to your mouth in shock. “They even leaked Zoe’s phone number and their house phone! Everything was just spiraling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and the only thing I could think of to do was just.. them the truth. So I did and I told them everything. I wrote the letter, Connor took it from me, we weren’t really friends, and it was all a lie. I haven’t spoken to the Murphy’s since.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap and sighed. “And.. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll go to school and everyone will hate me or that the Murphy’s will ruin my life.. Not that I don’t deserve it, after what I did? I deserve worse.”
“Evan.. No one deserves that, especially not you. What you did wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but you had the best intentions.” He nodded silently, “What did you want to ask me earlier anyways?”
You turned, facing down at the wheel in front of you. “I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was buried.”, a tear slipped from your eye as you sighed, smiling sadly, “I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye..” “I could go with you if you’d like. To show you the way?”
“Thank you, Evan.”
___
During the ride to the cemetery, You and Evan talked, trying to lighten the mood, and quickly became best friends. The two of you didn't have so much in common but you were both very comfortable and supportive of each other. You were like the siblings neither of you had.
The two of you stepped out of the truck, and begun walking to Connor’s grave. “Oh! Hold on..” You turn back, grabbing a beautiful bouquet of red roses and pink tulips, with a small white card that said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough when you needed it, Connor. I will never forget you, mon amour. I love you, always.” Connor didn’t have a specific favorite flower but he did appreciate their meanings. Roses represent love, and tulips represent a declaration of love. You hoped that even though he was gone he would still appreciate the thought you put into it.
The two of you walked up to his grave. It was at this moment when it hit you that he was really gone forever. You dropped to your knees, carefully placing down the flowers. Tears streaming as you silently sobbed, Evan’s hand on your left shoulder and the ghost of Connor’s hand on your right.
“I’m sorry, Connor. I love you more than you’ll ever know..”
The two of you sat there in silence for a while, before agreeing to leave in case the Murphy’s decided to visit. Neither of you really wanted to run into them and have to explain who you were and why you were there. “Do you want to come over to my house? You look emotionally exhausted.” You laughed and nodded, starting up the car.
___
“Why didn’t you come to town sooner?” You sighed, “I just.. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, you know? And coming here, seeing his grave, and his grieving family just confirmed what I prayed wasn’t true.” You sipped on the hot chocolate in your hands, staring out of the window at the pouring rain and cloudy night sky. “Have you met them yet?” Evan mumbled, typing on his laptop on the couch beside you. He pulled up the Connor Project and read about all the many different things Alana was doing. “No.. But I feel like I should? Like I know things about Connor that would give them closure but I can’t bring myself to go over and talk to them.”
“If only there was a way for you to show them what Connor was really like so you wouldn’t have to talk to them...” It was silent for a moment, “Actually... Connor and I used to write each other handwritten letters and take a lot of pictures together..” “Well what are the odds..” he giggled, “Maybe you could give those to them? The ones that aren’t super personal?” You sat together deeply in thought.
“But I can’t exactly bring myself to just give them away... Maybe I could copy them and white out all the personal stuff? Like the things between me and Connor only, and my face and name?” Evan nodded, agreeing that that would be the best option. You’d create a box filled with things Connor wrote and pictures of when he was truly happy, then leave it on the Murphy’s doorstep. It was a safe, no-contact interaction.
___
The next night, you went over to Evan’s house with the box labeled “The Real Connor Murphy. (i’m so sorry for your loss.. i thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.)” Evan gave you directions to the Murphy household. Eventually, you parked in front of the pale yellow house, all three cars were in the driveway. “You better be quick if you don’t want anyone to see you.. Just.. keep the car running, drop off the box, ring the doorbell, and book it back here and drive off. Don’t turn back.” “Okay super spy.” You laughed nervously.
You walked up to the door, placing the box neatly on the ground with a single rose and tulip tapped on the top, rang the doorbell, and ran off. You jumped into the car and drove off just as Evan, who was previously hiding away from the car window, saw the red front door begin to open.
___
“Larry!” Cynthia Murphy exclaimed, picking up the box from the front porch to the dinner table, placing it beside the small card they had found on a mysterious bouquet of flowers they found the day before against Connor’s gravestone. “What is that?” He asked, looking at it with disinterest. “I found it on the porch, it says ‘The Real Connor Murphy. I’m so sorry for your loss.. I thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.’ It’s in the same handwriting as the note we found on that bouquet of flowers. It even has the same two flowers! It has to be the same person. Someone who really loved him...” “What’s inside?” Zoe asked while reading and rereading the small card.
Cynthia opened the box to find handwritten letters from Connor and a mystery girl, photos of Connor laughing, smiling, pouting, hugging and kissing someone with a scratched out face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the real Connor, a whole different version of him that the three were completely unaware of. Seeing him like this was just so unfamiliar to them, they couldn’t believe their eyes for a moment. Zoe picked up a letter, reading it aloud,
“Dear Y/N
Things haven’t been going so well lately, my parents are always fighting, my mom pretends like there’s nothing wrong, my dad doesn’t pay attention to anyone but himself anymore, and Zoe hates me.
Not that I blame her, I hate myself too. But I don’t hate myself when I’m around you. I’m so glad to have you around. You make life just a little easier every day.
It’s harder when you’re not around, I get angry easier when I get bullied at school or when Zoe says something awful about me. I just feel like I’m an airplane about to crash, but with you around I feel like I’m flying. Smooth sailing. Floating even. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.
Thank you. I love you.
Sincerely, Con”
“He.. he had a girlfriend..?” She said, in shock. The three began to shuffle through the letters, photos, and little post-it notes, putting them in piles. “These are all copied..” “Maybe whoever left them didn’t want to give the originals away..?” “Maybe because she still cares about and loves him and didn’t want to give these away. They seem so.. personal.” Cynthia picked up a post-it note,
“Tu es belle Y/N, je t'adore.”
“What does that even mean?” Zoe pulled out her phone going straight to google translate, “It’s says ‘you are beautiful, i adore you.’.. I didn’t know Connor knew french.” “He never took a class for it. Maybe he learned it on his own?” Larry picked up a photo this time, Connor was standing in front of the apple orchard’s rotting old sign in the middle of the field, fake pouting and wearing a thin little flower crown you had made him. “I didn’t know Connor had any feelings other than anger.” Cynthia hit his arm. “Wait,” Zoe said, grabbing the attention of her bickering parents, “This letter has a picture and a post-it note attached to it.”
“Dear Con,
Thank you for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful. You are so so talented. The way you put so much thought into every detail is truly admirable. You make everything you paint so exciting and captivating, even if the thing you’re painting isn’t very exciting at all. You see the beauty in the things that most people never give a second glance.
It kind of reminds me of the way I look at you.
To most people that don’t know you, you are a “freak” or “school shooter chic”. But, when I look at you, you are none of those things. You are beautiful, you are captivating, you are perfectly imperfect. You are worth it. Don’t give up on me darlin’.
I love you.
Sincerely, Y/N/N”
Attached to the letter was a photo of the painting mentioned. It was a painting of your beaten old navy blue truck parked beside a chain link fence that blocked it off from the open field. In the background, the sun was setting in a perfect blend of yellows, oranges, and reds. It was so detailed that if you weren’t already aware that it was a painting, you would’ve probably thought it was a photo taken from a fancy camera. “It really is beautiful..” Cynthia trailed off, wiping a stray tear that fell from her eye, “He was so talented. I didn’t even know he liked to paint! I mean I knew he took an art class but because he skipped school so much, I never even thought he went..”
“I guess we really didn’t know Connor at all..” Zoe begun to get angry, “What kind of family does that?! I mean we lived with him, I grew up with him, you two raised him, and we still didn’t even know who he was?! This.. this stranger even knew more about him than we did! Do you realize how sad this is? We have to learn about our dead family member from a complete stranger because when he was alive, we were too busy pretending like he was just acting out for attention instead of actually needing help! He needed help and we didn’t give it to him! It’s not like we couldn’t afford to take him to therapy! We just pretended like he was a monster and if we ignored him, he would stop..” She took a deep breath, “Maybe we were the monsters and his anger and tantrums were his cries for help...” “Zoe..” Cynthia reached for her arm but she pulled away, running up to her room while choking back tears. “..She’s right.”
The two were quiet for a long period of time, reading and rereading every letter and every note, memorizing every photo.
Cynthia held up a photo of Connor and a girl, whose face was completely scratched out, “Who are you..”
___
The next day was a particularly warm day so you and Evan drove over to A La Mode as a victory ice cream run of sorts. You really believed in treating yourself after small, seemingly insignificant, victories such as dropping off a box of precious letters to a grieving family. They needed closure, and you were willing to give it them. Evan, despite talking about A La Mode with the Murphy’s before, had never actually been. You two talked and ate your ice cream sitting in the back of your truck, looking out at the orchard across the street. The orchard was renamed the “Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard”, which made your heart a little heavy. Another reminder that he was really gone.
In the distance, on the other side of the fence sat the Murphy’s who were packing up from their weekly picnic. As they got up to walk out of the orchard, Zoe looked across the street. “Wait a minute..” Her parents stopped walking. “What is it Zoe?” Larry asked. She pointed at the car parked across the street, “Isn’t that the car that Connor painted his girlfriend in that letter? And Evan?” They looked across the street to find the same navy blue truck and a familiar face.
Evan paled, “The Murphy’s are looking at us!” he whisper-shouted. You began to turn around, but Evan stopped you. “No don’t look!” Your head whipped back to him as your face paled, “They recognized my car..” “How could they? It was night time when you dropped off the box and the door barely begun to open as you drove away..”
You smiled sheepishly, “I may or may not have given them a picture of a painting Connor made me of my truck parked beside that exact fence...” Evan facepalmed and gave you a deadpanned look. “Well they’re starting to walk across the street now.”
You shot up, “Let’s go.” “I mean would it be so bad to meet his parents?” Evan asked as the two of you scrambled into the front seats. “I’m just.. I’m not ready to have that conversation just yet.” You reversed out of the parking spot and drove back onto the road.
“Wait!” The Murphy’s shouted to the car as it begun to drive off. “There was a girl driving. Maybe that was her?” Cynthia asked, hopefulness clear in her voice. “She was with Evan, do you think the box of letters were fake?” Larry, always the optimist. “They couldn’t be, they were handwritten in Connor’s handwriting. Even the french notes.”
Zoe thought for a moment, “Well if we’re going to find her, we should probably start with Evan’s place first.” “Who said we were going to look for her?” Larry asked, “I’m not wasting my time on a wild goose chase. She’s already shown us enough about Connor.”
Cynthia turned to her husband, “How could you say that? She could be the one thing to bring us closer to our son. Our son who took his own life because he felt that that was the only path left for him. And you don’t want to try to find her? Find closure? Honestly Larry, what is wrong with you lately!” “I’m sorry. We’ll find her.”
___
The Murphy’s found themselves at the Hansen household. They knew you were there. After all, your truck was parked in the driveway. Inside were you, Heidi, and Evan. You had just met Heidi, but she loved you. She was thrilled to find that Evan had made a friend like you. You hung out with Evan even after learning he lied about being friends with your recently deceased boyfriend, and helped him when he started to rant and breathe heavy about it. You were so kind-hearted, forgiving, and calm by nature, that he was finally comfortable around someone. You were quickly best friends.
A knock at the door startled the three of you. “Are you guys expecting anyone?”, Heidi stood up to get the door as you and Evan turned to each other. He placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I suppose now’s a good time as ever, even though I really only had 24 hours to prepare myself..” You muttered, the two of you walking towards the front door.
The Murphy’s stopped and stared at you. “Are you.. Were you Connor’s girlfriend?” Cynthia asked. You nodded slightly, rubbing your arm as a nervous habit. “I’m Cynthia, this is Larry and Zoe.. We’re Connor’s family.” “I know.”
Heidi invited them in, everyone heading to the living room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.. We just wanted to thank you for all the letters and photos of Connor. It feels like we’re finally getting to know who he really was on the inside.” You looked up from your lap, “No offense ma’am, but shouldn’t you have gotten to know your own son when he was still around?”
Zoe laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s funny.. especially considering you didn’t bother to get to know him either.” You said getting defensive, sticking up for Connor. Even if he was gone, you would never stop fighting for him. You did truly love him after all. “And before you say ‘Connor wasn’t easy to talk to. He would always yell and storm off.’, just think about the fact that having a relationship with someone is a two way street. You can’t expect someone to make an effort if you don’t try to do the same.”
The three looked at her in shock. Heidi and Evan smiling sheepishly in the background. “I..”, Larry started, but trailed off, not being able to come up with a proper response. Cynthia and Zoe looked deep in thought, unable to do the same.
It was quiet for a long amount of time.
“You’re right. You’re right and I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. And the only thing we could do now is learn from our mistakes. We don’t exactly know how we’re going to do that but we’re willing to try. And we’re hoping that you could help us? Help us figure out what to do and help us learn about who Connor was?” Zoe finally spoke up, her parents nodding along in agreement.
You were trying to heal from everything that happened and them putting all their hope on you wasn’t really helping. But maybe grieving together would allow everyone to heal and remember him in a more positive way? At least you hoped.
There’s a lot of hope pinned on others here.
“I suppose helping you all would let us heal.. together?” You said, slightly questioning your own words, turning toward Evan. He shrugged, giving you a thumbs-up. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about Connor unless Evan is around.” You paused, “It’d be nice to have a familiar face around and we’re practically best friends now.. so..” “Yes of course.” The three stood up, walking to the front door, “We’ll come back here at 11AM tomorrow and drive to the orchard for a picnic if that’s alright with the two of you?” You and Evan nodded simultaneously. “Are you allergic to anything dear?”
With the shake of your head and a quick goodbye from Evan and Heidi, the Murphy’s were off.
“Am I doing the right thing here? Connor didn’t even want his family to known I existed! And now we’re going on a picnic with them? Where I have to talk about him?” You sat down, head in your hands as a headache begun to grow. Heidi placed her hand on your shoulder gently, “It’s going to be tough right now, and it’s going to be emotionally draining, I’m sure. But, if you really think that they deserve to know who he really was, that how they perceive him is wrong, then I think you are doing the right thing. You’re helping them, you’re helping yourself, and you’re helping Connor. You did say that he wanted to change the way people saw him. And you’d be doing that for him, even if he’s not physically around to see it happen.”
“Thank you, Heidi.”
___
“It’s really nice of you to agree to meet us here, Y/N. And Evan, it’s nice to have you here too.” Cynthia smiled, putting down a blanket for the picnic. Everyone sat down in an awkward silence.
“So... is.. is there anything you wanted to know that wasn’t already in the letters?” You asked, picking at the blades of grass beside you. Evan slapped your hand away from the grass, silently scolding you in true forest ranger fashion for messing with nature. The Murphy’s turned to each other, silently debating what to say and who would say it. No surprise to you and Evan that the one to speak up was Cynthia. The past couple of hours really showed that she was the only one who seemed to care, at least a little bit, about Connor when he was around, though Zoe and Larry were trying their best now.
“Why didn’t Connor bring you around to meet the family? It really seemed like you brought so much light to his life. I mean, you brought out parts of him that we didn’t even know existed!” “We thought he was a monster...” Zoe muttered sadly.
Your heart ached for this family, they really knew nothing about him.. “Connor didn’t bring me around because he was afraid you’d all ‘scare me off’,” you laughed slightly, “And Connor may have been a monster to you, but the real Connor was never a monster, to me or to anyone in my small town. In the next town over, no one knew who Connor was or what he’d done in the past. It was like a fresh start. Which I knew he desperately needed. I mean, with all the people bullying him, hurting him physically or emotionally or both, and spreading fake rumors about him since he was in the second grade? He was angry and hurting and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he would lash out. But wouldn’t you react the same way? Build up walls so people wouldn’t hurt you? Isolate yourself so people couldn’t get close enough to?”
It went silent again, the only sound was the wind blowing in the summer breeze and the trees rustling in the background.
“She’s right.”
Everyone looked up, faces showing some form of shock. Larry continued, “All that stuff was going on in school and we made it worse for him at home. He asked us for help and we always assumed he was doing for attention. No matter how hard we tried to be a perfect family, we never were and we probably never will be.”
Zoe wiped away a stray tear. “Even though you couldn’t save your kid, maybe there’s a way you could save someone else’s?” He turned to you with a questioning glance. “I mean you have to admit, you’re a pretty wealthy family, maybe you can spend some time donating to suicide prevention hotlines and foundations that were created specifically to help those who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts like Connor was? I know for a fact that Connor hated the way that he felt, and would never want anyone to go through what he’d been going through, no matter how much of an asshole they were.”
Cynthia reached over to you, placing a hand on your knee, smiling as tears fell freely from her face, from all of their faces. “That’s a brilliant idea, Y/N.”
___
The picnic went on as you told them stories of your’s and Connor’s adventures together. Jumping over the fence to lay around in the yellow fields of the old orchard, helping your mom arrange flowers in her flower shop (he would always make sure his bouquets were well thought out in their meaning), buying junk food and snacks when having movie marathons on a Saturday night, sketching and painting moments together so you two would never forget them.
With each little story, his family knew more about him and you felt as close to him as you had been before that heart-wrenching summer day.
You fell behind from the group as you all walked out of the orchard. Turning back and taking one last look at the entrance, the fields, and the growing trees of the Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard, you notice a figure dressed in black standing with his back against the fence. He gave you a smile, a genuine yet sad smile, mouthing the words “thank you” and “i love you”, before disappearing in the wind.
#connor murphy#connor murphy x reader#deh#dear evan hansen#mike faist#broadway#dear evan hansen x reader
203 notes
·
View notes
Text
WEEK 7 - Wrap Up
“Gator don’t play no @#$%”
youtube
Ah, Will Ferrell, the voice of our generation - so wise and so passionate. Listen, it’s week 7 so I am just going to tell it straight to you guys. This is one crazy ass year. Crazy! Not just in the world and within society - but even in Fantasy Football - it’s crazy! And if I am being honest I have to say that I’m getting tired of it all. Really tired. Things have got to start to get better because what's happening with all these injuries and covid positives and false positives...well it’s just all a bunch of shit! And when we are to the point where you can’t even count on America’s team to give you hope - you really have to question what this country has turned into. So, try and stay positive...for those of you who won this week...you got lucky - no skill involved. Nothing is guaranteed in 2020. Play on!
U SUCK vs LANAKILA
I like Cliff Young. He’s a good guy. He was very beatable this week and I failed on my end. It was completely my fault. That’s the truth. I believed I needed to give Andy Dalton one more chance...and that’s on me. I was wrong. Dalton was horrible and again, if I am being completely honest - he deserved the beating he took and the concussion he received. If I was on that field I would have done it myself but I would have made it happen in the first quarter. Bottom line if I would have played Carr and had balls to play Gronk over Hunter Henry I would have grabbed a win and a few more points. But, I didn’t and Cliff wins with 101.12 points. Cliff’s highlights - Minshew with 23, McLaurin with 15 and Williams with 17. Nice win Cliff 5-2 looks pretty nice.
BOOMER SOONER vs MOOSES ON THE LOOSES
Don’t leave the moose hanging. He’s a winner! He deserves a high five. Mitch was the latest to take down Stu Jones (boomer sooner)...who is on a 2 game losing streak. Check out some of these scores he had: Claypool -0.20, Ertz 0, Lamb .10, Zuerlein 4, Seahawks Defense 4. Rough. Sad. But, you know I have to say that Stu having such a bad week made me feel good. It’s really nice to not be the only one with poor performances, so thanks Stu for hanging in there with me. Moose on the other hand had 44 from Herbert and 15 from Bernard and when you do that - you can afford to put up 2s, 3s, and 4s from the rest of the team. Nice win Moose.
FUNK GUY vs HOWARD
For some reason when I saw that Dana Cappillino lost again (3 in a row now) it reminded me of this scene from Forrest Gump. Is Lieutenant Dan happy that he is alive? Maybe? But actually I’m not so sure that he is. His life is a shadow of what it once was. He use to be a leader. A winner. A star on the rise. Now he’s trapped in a wheel chair and is a shell of himself. Much like Dana in his fantasy football journey. Dana, I hope this is not you tonight, but if it is...call Rob Howard...he works at a church and has people you can talk to. He won’t let you slip away into darkness. The team at Fellowship will show you compassion. Howard on the other hand killed it this week and has every reason to love his life. His points are bumped way up and he is now 5-2. Wow. This guy is a fantasy football machine. Nice win Rob!
LONG LEFT BALLERS vs TuPADRE
This week we say goodbye to Odell Beckham JR. He is out for the season with a tear in his ACL. But, the good news is Gullahorn doesn’t need him to win. He proved that this week when he took down Bebo by putting up 115 points and 0 from OBJ. If you need a replacement Gully, I will give you Amari Cooper and Andy Dalton for Russell Wilson? Hit me back if interested. Bebo tried his best and he didn’t do awful it’s just that Gullahorn, like Rob Howard, is just that good this year. Also, making the move up to 5-2 and looking very solid going into November he will be a tough opponent moving forward. Bebo, the good news for you is that you are in what we in the “biz” call the “soft division” with funk guy, boomer sooner, backdoor bandits...so your chances of a playoff spot are still very strong - so hang tight and press on.
TREE HUGGERS vs MR AWESOME
Yep. Two weeks in a row. Gabe Scott wins and wins big. This week with 142 points. 48 of those points came from Tyler Lockett a Seattle Seahawk...so Krippayne had to watch his Seahawks put up crazy points while his chances at winning this week slipped away. In texting with Scott during the game - he voiced that he was so happy the Seahawks were winning it didn’t bother him that Lockett and Gabe were having such a good night. But, we all know how this story ends. The Seahawks lost in overtime so Scott had to deal with the loss of the game and his loss in fantasy. And unlike in math where two negatives make a positive - in fantasy two negatives make you really really bummed the next day. It can actually carry over into days and days and possibly weeks. Happy for you Gabe - you are on a major roll! Sorry Scott - what a crazy game.
BACKDOOR BANDITS vs TRADE WITH ME
Like a battle between LaRusso and Johnny on Cobra Kai this was the one match up that came down to Monday night to decide. The “bandits” were holding strong at 129.42 and Brett had Darrell Henderson and Robert Woods still to play and he just needed 18.77 to steal the win from Kyle. A very possible thing right? Maybe in any other year but this is 2020 as I have noted. The Rams put up a lot of points (24 to be exact) but none of those TDs went to Henderson or Woods. So, in a crazy turn of events Kyle Allmendinger wins and starts his road to the playoffs journey - fueled by Brett’s loss and a great points week. Brett what can I say. You tried? Great week with Brady? Nice Loss? Not sure what to say so I will just end this here.
SURVIVOR
Just like Minka here - settling in for a long cozy night...Survivor continues on. Gabe (Bills), Dana (Bills) and Brett (Patriots) all move on. (sorry, i made it to week 7 until I posted a Minka...that’s pretty good)
HIGH POINT WINNER
This weeks high point is no surprise...Rob Howard with 162.56. $20! Rob is such a humble and quiet guy when it comes to fantasy football he probably won’t even read this. He won’t know that he won the $20 until the end of the season and will probably donate it to a neighbor in need. What a guy. If there is one thing Rob loves more than Fantasy Football and BanjoHangout.com it has to be his love for surfing. He is a surfing nut. So our picture prize female athlete of the week is Alana Rene Blanchard....Top american professional surfer. @alanablanchard on instagram. So talented and someone I would have never knew existed if Rob didn’t win the high point this week.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Shylight pt 2
•Hybrid! Taehyung x Reader
Warning: none for right now
A/N: So I think I might post once every month as of right now :( I’ve been getting busier than I expected these two past months and I’m sorry for the late update :(( I tried to write when I had the chance my plans was to have this posted two weeks ago and then post another part this week but it didn’t turn out that way I’m so sorry everyone. However I’ll try to work on the next parts when I have time once again I’m so sorry everyone! Also I’m not sure why but Tumblr won’t let me post this chapter in full so I guess this is the first part of chapter two of that makes sense? Dont worry I have the second part of chapter two (that’s quite a long title) done I just needed to cut the chapter in half in order for it to post hhhh I might post the second part of pt 2 tomorrow I’m really tired right now since it’s late where I am thank you for having patience!
Taglist:
@baka-chanismyname @local-mochi @ssarcasticbbunny @stargazingmoonchild @reallysparklychaos @marveldcgirl2 @lilacbaby11 @lilliaflurr
To be tagged for the next part, feel free to comment down below :D
☾ ☾ ☾
It had been exactly four days since the tiger hybrid had arrived. He had been put in the exotic hybrid section. After all the domestic hybrids would probably be terrified of a tiger hybrid joining them suddenly.
Despite trying your best to convince your boss to let you into that area for once in your 3 years of working there, he denied you.
No matter how relaxed your boss was or no matter what reason like “pls I’m getting my medical degree specializing in hybrids very soon and I’ve been working here for 3 years I’m begging you”, you were still met with a cold hard no. You couldn’t exactly blame your boss especially since it was absolutely mandatory that no one without authorized access is permitted into the exotic section for the well being of both the hybrids and employee.
When it came to dealing with the hybrids, your boss took the utmost of caution and did thorough background checks on every single employee who’s job is to handle the hybrids. You had always admired that fact but right now it didn’t help you at all.
You couldn’t help the curiosity that bubbled within you whenever the door to the exotics section would open.
There were also rumors, lots of them.
Lately, they’ve mostly been centered around the tiger hybrid.
Most times you wouldn’t care for the gossip but you kept an ear out for anything on the tiger hybrid.
So far it wasn’t looking too good.
You’ve heard that tiger stayed in his corner at all times. Which really wasn’t good considering that the employees had to try harder to feed him. They tried to ask what the tiger would like but the tiger would stay silent. They just figured they should leave food at his room .
But apparently every time they left food of him, only a little was eaten.
The staff was starting to get stressed out. Hell even you were anxious for the tiger’s well-being.
Abruptly one of the employees,named Alana comes to your desk nearly on the verge of tears.
“I can’t work in there anymore.”
She slams down her card to the exotics room.
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Alana had been one of the workers there that had been there for so long. She was incredibly patient and determined to make every hybrid feel better. Sure she was a perfectionist but she was one of the best at the shelter so it’s helpful atleast. Usually a hybrid would only take two days to open up to her.
After a minute you were the first one to speak.
“Wait what? Why?”
Her glassy eyes looked down to the floor for a second. Alana sucked in a breath.
Her voice came out shaky, “I just c-can’t do it anymore. That new hybrid is tearing me apart. I stay for hours every single damn day talking to him trying to get him to open up. But he says absolutely nothing.”
She bursted into tears.
“I can’t take it anymore, Y/N. I feel my pride breaking little by little just by being in there. I don’t wanna work with the exotics anymore.”
You felt extremely bad for the poor girl. She wasn’t used to an extreme hybrid case.
You stood and walked over to the other side of your desk to give her a hug. You stroked her hair and give her words of comfort like “it’ll be ok” or “you tried your best so it’s okay.”
It stayed this way until Alana finally calmed down.
She gave a watery smile and told you she was gonna come back in a few days.
And so she left.
And you didn’t know what to do again.
You stared at the exotics access card on your desk for a few moments until you got an idea.
You knew as a responsible secretary you should have deactivated the card until Alana came back. But..curiosity was itching within you.
You wanted to see for yourself how the toger hybrid was doing.
So you slipped the card into your pocket as you decided that you were gonna go into the exotics room for a little bit tonight.
☾ ☾ ☾
You felt the guilt rising already. You know you shouldn’t be in there.
It was just you at the shelter now. You had stayed later than everyone else even the boss.
Your boss was surprised that you stayed overtime. You passed it off by saying that you needed to finish up something. Your boss just nodded his head and cheekily said that you wouldn’t be paid for it.
You don’t mind though. You feel as if you were to have been paid then you would feel way more guilt than you do now.
You walk up to the door of the exotics room. With shaky fingers you scan the card into the slot.
It did a little ‘beep’ and opened.
You took a deep breath and went inside.
You thank your lucky stars that all lights were turned off meaning that almost all of the hybrids had been sleepy or fully asleep.
You took off your shoes to lessen the noise of your footsteps so you wouldn’t awake any hybrids by accident.
After walking around for a few minutes you realized that you had no clue as to where the tiger hybrid’s room was.
You feel like you’re getting nowhere as you sense that you passed a door a couple of times already.
Curse the identical doors
You huffed and continue on trying to find the tiger hybrid’s room.
What you didn’t expect was for the hybrid to find you first.
He stood right in front of his door. He was watching you curiously. His tail swayed from the left to the right.
He sniffed the air around him.
He looks different from last time. Well first of all there is no blood on him now.
And second, he looks anxious.
You awkwardly wave at him. You let out a nervous “hi”.
He looked down to his feet.
He meekly said “h-hi.”
He is so cute, you thought to yourself. You would have given him a hug but he looked like he was ready to bolt right into his room at any moment.
As you were lost in your thought, the tiger spoke again “I uh-..what’s your n-name?”
You were surprised you had to admit. You didn’t expect to speak again you were only expecting a ‘hi’ based from the rumors that you had heard.
Ah well you suppose you shouldn’t trust rumors.
“My name is Y/N. What’s your name?” You smiled at him.
He froze in his place and he sputtered. “M-my name is Kim Taehyung.”
Kim Taehyung huh?
Now you finally have name to match with the face.
“That’s a nice name you have there, Taehyung.”
His face lit up as a boxy smile made its way across his face. “Thank you!”
You felt as if you were blessed with the beauty of his smile. He looked so cute and squishy you didn’t know whether or not you deserved to see his smile.
You wish you could reach out to poke his cheek but you don’t because you don’t want Taehyung to think you’re weird five minutes into introducing one another.
You beamed right back at him. “No problem.”
“So..how do you like it here at the shelter?”
The tiger’s smile slowly dropped. As he fiddled with his hand he replied “Well it’s good I guess and everyone here is so nice to me. But I...” He seemed a little hesitant to go on and for a second you thought he was gonna leave at that.
But he doesn’t.
“I-i guess I’m not used to being in shelter.”
Your eyebrows furrow together as you form a question “What do you mean by that? Surely you’ve been to a shelter at least once.”
Taehyung looked a bit embarrassed as he looked down and blushed.
In a quiet voice he says, “nuh-uh”
You opened your mouth only to lose it again. You were confused.
“Have you been homeless all of your life then?? How didn’t you get caught?”
You really tried to stop the questions from coming out of your mouth, you really did. But you were just too curious for your own good so the questions start hurling out at the poor guy.
He seemed to get a little nervous by the questions as he fumbled with his clothes.
You quickly realizing your mistake added “I’m sorry you don’t have to answer.”
His shoulders seemed to relax.
“Uh thank you I don’t wanna talk about it”
You flash him a smile. “Nah I understand. It was my fault for making you uncomfortable. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re very nice and p-pretty” Taehyung whispers to mainly to himself. But you caught onto it.
“Heh well I would hope so.”
He seemed a bit spooked as you replied to him. His cheeks flushed pink. “Sorry!”
You decided right there that you wanted to wrap him in a blanket and give him hugs and kisses because he was too cute you couldn’t handle it.
You lost yourself in thought until you heard a door open from the outside.
You and Taehyung both looked at each other in panick.
Taehyung acted fast and grabbed your wrist pulling you into his little room.
You have never been in the hybrids’ rooms before so you took the chance to look around. The room was small and it didn’t really have much color. It was white everywhere, from the walls to the floor. The only pieces of furniture there was the bed, the small closet and the rug.
Taehyung pulled you both once again to hide behind the closet. You were side by side and there was no space between you two. You felt your heart start to speed up the slightest bit as you waited with bated breathe.
#bts hybrid#hybrid taehyung#tiger taehyung#hybrid bts#hybrid bangtan#taehyung imagine#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#bts fanfic#bts fantasy au#hybrid tae#bts taehyung#bts namjoon#bts jhope#bts jimin#bts jeongguk#taehyung fanfic#hybrid au#kim taehyung#taetae#bts x reader#bts x you#jeon jungkook#jung hoseok#taehyung x yn#fantasy au bts#bts imagines#bts writing#tiger tae
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
New instalment of my occasional series, in which Will and Hannibal are cheating scumbags and Alana deserves better. This one contains water guns, Bev Katz, and Hannibal’s entrancing chest hair...
Also on AO3.
***
To be honest, Alana had never expected Jack to go for her suggestion. She’d been pretty certain he was kidding when he asked what she thought he could do to improve team morale now that Will was out of prison and back working with the BAU. So when she’d told him to take them all to the park for a picnic, it had been in the perfectly reasonable belief that he’d take it in the spirit it was intended – one dripping in sarcasm.
She certainly hadn’t expected to be, a week later, attending said picnic with Hannibal on one arm and a huge bowl of potato salad in the other.
“Shall we add our offerings to the feast?” Hannibal asked, nodding at the long, gingham-covered trestle table with what Alana was fairly sure was a note of facetiousness rather less well hidden than usual under his unflappable politeness. He had, of course, not seen the casual setting as a reason to eschew his trademark gastronomic flair, and held in his hand a gigantic woven basket full to the brim with homemade delicacies. Her potato salad looked pretty frumpy by comparison (and Alana knew it was damn good potato salad, actually). She could only imagine how the usual array of barbecue wings and corn salad would fare. She couldn’t even give Hannibal the benefit of the doubt — he’d deliberately set out to win the picnic and she could already feel the smugness radiating off him.
“I wouldn’t want to deprive the crowd of your gourmet glory a moment longer,” she said, resolutely straight-faced. Hannibal didn’t buy it for a second.
“My dear Alana, can you be accusing me of showboating?”
“My dear Hannibal,” she shot back, “can you have the nerve to claim you’re not?”
He smiled at her, the slightly predatory one that made her shiver. “Why Dr Bloom, I believe you see right through me.” He leaned in, close enough to make her wonder if he was about to renege on his usual rule about public displays of affection, but instead simply deposited a kiss on her cheek and relieved her of her bowl, sauntering off to the picnic table with a triumphant swing in his hips.
Alana hung back a little, deliberately, all the better to take in the sight of Hannibal in his version of casual summer-wear. It was a rare event that he deemed unsuitable for his signature three-piece suits but apparently an afternoon in the park counted amongst them. And so Alana was treated to the sight of her usually formal boyfriend clad in the fewest layers she’d seen him in outside of the bedroom. Slim, rust-coloured pants sat on his hips, a much lower cut than Alana would ever have expected but one she couldn’t help but appreciate, given the way they framed the doctor’s enviable ass. Above the waist, a simple, crisp white shirt would have made Hannibal almost unrecognisably understated, were it not for the blazer carefully folded over his arm, a steely blue offset by wide windowpane check in the same colour as his pants. A different silhouette than usual but still the same elegant loudness that could belong only to Hannibal, not to mention the same sharp tailoring, precision cut to show his form to its greatest advantage.
“Hate to see him leave, love to watch him walk away?” Bev nudged Alana in the ribs, having snuck up while she was distracted.
“Can you blame me?”
“Mmm, nope. Best view for miles around.”
Behind them, someone made a noise of disgust. Both women turned to see Will skulking in their shadows.
“Got a problem, Graham?” Bev raised both her arms and Alana realised that she was toting two impressive looking water-guns in a genuinely horrible neon green. She trained them on Will, along with a wicked grin. “Cos my little friends here are just itching to take care of some troublemakers.”
“Do it and die, Katz,” Will growled. Probably in jest, Alana thought, though it could be hard to tell with Will these days.
“Big words for a guy in such a skimpy shirt,” Bev drawled. She had a point; Alana could definitely see the outline of a nipple poking through the thin cotton of Will’s tee. Shame he wasn’t in his boxers too – Alana would have pulled the trigger herself if that had been the case. She was only human, after all.
Will crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “Ok, all right, what do I have to do to avoid a soaking?”
Bev considered him for a moment, then flipped one of her guns in the air, grabbed it by the barrel and offered it to Will. “Help me take out Preller and you’ve got immunity.”
Will grinned, the kind of evil expression that explained why he freaked so many people out. “Deal.”
He and Beverly exchanged a handshake, both with a kind of wicked glee all over their faces. Alana was, if she were honest, a little jealous – she used to have that kind of camaraderie with Will. Plus, who said she didn’t like playing with (water) guns?
Then Bev pulled a pistol out of her waistband and offered it to Alana. “You want in, Dr Bloom?”
Alana’s hands itched to take her up on it. Visions of smacking Jack Crawford between the eyes with a well-aimed blast of water swam before her eyes. She was just about to take hold of the gun when a voice called out behind her.
“Alana?”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Hannibal sauntering towards the little group, having divested himself of both food and jacket.
“Sorry Dr Lecter,” Bev chirped, clearly not sorry at all, “I was trying to recruit her to our hunting party.”
Hannibal’s eyes twinkled at this, as he glanced around the group, noting the guns in both Beverly and Will’s hands. “Quite the formidable team you’re putting together, Ms Katz. May I ask what kind of quarry you are targeting?”
“Only the most dangerous game.” Will was staring straight at Hannibal as the words left his mouth, a twist to his lips somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.
“Really?” Hannibal asked, delight etched across his face. “Should I be concerned for my safety?”
Will took a step towards him, coming to stand in the space between Bev and Alana, and raised his gun, pointing it directly at Hannibal’s chest. “Scared, Dr Lecter?”
“Will!” Alana smacked him in the arm. “That’s not funny.”
Hannibal waved a placatory hand, clearly amused by Will’s behaviour. “It’s quite all right, Alana; not being a wicked witch, I believe I won’t dissolve from a little water. Besides,” he said, pointedly looking Will up and down, “I’m curious to see what will happen.”
“You smug bastard,” Will snarled, and opened fire.
An impressively forceful jet of water hit Hannibal square in the chest, creating a wet spot that immediately began to grow and spread as Will strode towards him, pumping hard and maintaining a steady stream right up until his tip was pressed directly against Hannibal. Hannibal, who hadn’t moved a muscle, hadn’t even flinched, just taken everything Will had to give with both arms open. Now he stood, watching Will and being watched back, both men panting at each other as Hannibal dripped onto the ground below, his shirt turned transparent and clinging to his flesh. Will tipped his head to the side and pressed a little harder with his gun, almost as if urging Hannibal to-
“What is your problem, Will?” Alana hissed as she and Bev reached him and wrenched him away from Hannibal. “You had better hope someone has a change of clothes so that he doesn’t have to spend all afternoon soaking wet.”
Once again Hannibal stepped in to defuse her irritation, as if she were still that overeager student he’d taken under his wing. It was just as annoying now as it had been then. “It’s no problem, Alana. I believe there’s an American expression that applies in this particular scenario. What is it…” His eyes seemed to linger a moment too long on Will, who looked like he might start squirting again at a moment’s notice. “Ah yes, ‘sun’s out, guns out,’” he concluded, gleefully. With which, Hannibal began unbuttoning his shirt as a speechless Bev, Will and Alana watched, three sets of eyes following the progress of Hannibal’s deft fingers as they travelled down his placket, revealing flashes of damp skin as they went.
Alana, who was by now very familiar with the sight of Hannibal’s torso in a state of undress, was first to recover and turned to the other two, to gauge their reactions. Bev looked mostly amused, a smirk on her face that suggested she was wondering if she had any ones stashed about her person in order to make it rain something other than water. Will, though. Will wasn’t amused, or embarrassed, or even incredulous. Will was actively staring, his already-wide eyes grown to anime proportions, his posture slightly forward-leaning, as if magnetised by the sight of Hannibal’s flesh. And then, as Hannibal finished unbuttoning and peeled off his shirt to reveal nipples slightly peaked by the cold water, Will made a soft noise that Alana would be hard-pressed to describe as anything other than a whine. He even licked his lips as he did it.
Oh. Oh.
“Will?”
No response.
“Will?” Alana tried again, waving a hand in front of Will’s face. Still nothing.
“WILL!” she yelled, which – aided by Bev delivering a smack to the back of his head – finally did the trick, making Will jump a little and come back to himself.
“What?” he asked, voice slightly strangled, his arms twitching as if to cross over his chest before he thought better of it and let them hang at his sides, fingers drumming on his thighs.
“Were you aware,” Alana began, voice clipped and cold, “that you were staring at my boyfriend’s chest?”
Will’s eyes darted from side to side, an apparent attempt to avoid both Alana’s accusing gaze and the sight of Hannibal’s slick skin. “What? No! I… no I wasn’t. Aware of that. Because I wasn’t doing it. At all.”
Alana raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I’m stupid, Will?”
“No! Of course not. You’re one of-”
“Or blind? Do you think I’m blind, Will?”
“I… no?”
“Ok, then cut the crap. Are you attracted to my boyfriend’s chest?”
“Absolutely not. Under no circumstances. I just…” Will trailed off and Alana had the impression that he was having to try very hard not to take another look at Hannibal.
“Just what?”
“Just… didn’t realise he was so…” His eyes finally lost the battle and snapped back to Hannibal’s torso. “…hairy.” The last word came out on a squeak, causing Will’s cheeks to get even redder, something Alana wouldn’t have thought physically possible. She’d be worried for his brain being starved of oxygen if she didn’t suspect its blood supply had already been diverted elsewhere anyway.
She turned back to Hannibal, almost involuntarily, already wondering how he would spin this awkward situation into something socially acceptable. Instead, she was confronted by her boyfriend staring at her former-almost-lover with a kind of hungry, yearning expression that suggested the last thing he was feeling was awkward. And was he… Was he really…
“Hannibal Lecter are you flexing right now?!” Alana yelled.
Hannibal’s face went briefly blank before he slid on an expression of patronising indulgence, but Bev headed off whatever excuse he was about to come out with. “Definitely. Sucking in his gut too,” she added, clearly torn between disgust for the vanity of men-kind and glee at confirmation that Will and Dr Lecter were hot for each other after all.
“He does not have a gut!”
Three heads turned, in various states of disbelief (and smugness, in Hannibal’s case), towards Will, who looked entirely shocked at the words that had come out of his mouth. “Well, he doesn’t,” he muttered. “Little bit soft in the middle, maybe, but it suits him-” He slapped a hand over his mouth, as if he could trap any other incriminating statements that might fly out of it.
“Why, thank you, Will,” Hannibal purred. “Coming from you, that is praise indeed.”
“Why coming from him?” Alana demanded sharply.
“Well,” Hannibal said, with infuriating deliberateness, “when one’s admirer is blessed with the proportions of the David, it is reassuring to know that one’s own imperfections are not too off-putting.”
Will’s mouth worked as he stared, apparently stunned, at Hannibal. “I- I’m not…”
“My dear Will,” Hannibal said, gliding towards him and raising a hand to cup his cheek, “you are exquisite in every way, you must know-”
At which point he was forced to break off, spluttering, as Bev pulled Alana behind her and then soaked the romantic moment. “Dude, priorities,” she drawled, once she’d finished spraying.
“What the fuck, Katz?” Will yelled, spinning round and spraying droplets everywhere like a wet dog.
“Graham, it is trashy to make out with a guy in front of his girlfriend, come on bud.”
“We weren’t! I wasn’t going to… we weren’t!”
“Weren’t we?” Hannibal purred into Will’s ear from behind, causing Will’s already-rosy blush to deepen into crimson as his hand snaked around his waist. “I must say, I find myself quite disappointed to hear that.”
Bev hefted her gun upwards and pointed it at Hannibal with a threatening expression. “I thought you were supposed to be some classy gentleman,” she said. “Alana, if you don’t dump his admittedly fine ass right now, I’m gonna waterboard the crap out of him.”
Alana watched the exchange with a strange sense of distance, as she realised one very important fact: she did not want one single, solitary part of whatever dumb fucking shit was going on between Will and Hannibal. She stepped around Bev, putting herself in front of the still-dripping Will and Hannibal.
“Ok,” she declared, “since I’m the only grown-up here, I’m making some decisions. Hannibal, we’re breaking up. If you’re very nice I might allow you to continue being my friend in a few weeks. Will, stop lying to yourself. You don’t hate Hannibal, you’re in love with him and you’re not even subtle about it. And,” she continued, poking him in the chest to drive the point home, “if you dare try to deny it after the display you just gave, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll tell Jack you two have been getting it on behind his back. And in his office.”
Will looked utterly horrified at the prospect and even Hannibal gave a small moue of disquiet.
“You wouldn’t,” Will whispered.
“Watch me.” Alana patted his cheek, just hard enough to sting. “Now, since that’s all sorted, I don’t want to look at you assholes any more. I think I could do with a drink.”
“I can help you out there, Doc, my contribution to the potluck was entirely in the form of grain alcohol.” Bev grinned, clearly having the time of her life watching this romantic drama explode right in front of her.
“I…” Will looked all around himself, as if searching for something that would make sense of what had just happened. Eventually, he gave a tiny shrug that still seemed to express total, incredulous helplessness and looked down at Hannibal’s hand, resting firmly on his stomach. “…don’t understand what just happened.”
“That’s ok,” Alana said, “Hannibal does, and he’s just itching to explain it to you.”
“Indeed,” Hannibal said, coming round to Will’s side and taking his hand, “let us find a quiet spot. I believe we need to talk, darling. Thank you, Alana. Miss Katz,” he added, as Bev singularly failed to stifle a snort of laughter at Will’s open-mouthed reaction to darling.
They watched, as Hannibal led a dazed but unresisting Will away from them by the hand. Alana wondered for a brief moment if she’d done the right thing, if either of them was really safe for the other. Then she shrugged and remembered that she really didn’t give a shit.
“Well, damn, looks like I’m out a partner for Preller hunting,” said Bev, and then gave Alana a sly, sidewise look. “Unless you’re up for a little target practice, Doc?”
Once again, she offered Alana the pistol. Alana eyed it, unimpressed, and crossed her arms. “Either I’m an equal partner, or I’m out.”
Bev grinned and switched the pistol for the full-sized shooter Will had discarded. “Atta girl,” she beamed, as Alana grabbed it, “always wanted to see you in action.” Her grin had twisted into a smirk. It was, Alana had to admit, pretty hot.
“Help me take out a hit on Jack after we crush your nerd boys and maybe I’ll show you just how good I am.”
Bev raised a finger to give a lazy salute, her eyes glittering. “Gladly, ma’am.”
A little while later, as she and Bev were hunting for Price and Zeller, who had run like cowards the first time they’d been tracked down, they found Will and Hannibal again. They’d managed to get Will out of his soaked shirt but apparently no further, since Will currently had Hannibal pinned against his car and was furiously making out with him. His hands were, Alana noticed, buried in Hannibal’s chest hair. Then again, Hannibal’s hands were firmly kneading Will’s ass so it looked like everybody got what they wanted. Including Alana, who got her own chance to spray them like a pair of misbehaving cats, secure in the knowledge that Hannibal would either have to get his precious Bentley wet, or allow his skin to make contact with Will’s dog hair covered upholstery.
“Knew you had a bad side,” Bev cackled as they walked away.
“Only when provoked.”
Bev waggled her eyebrows. “I can be extremely provocative, you know.”
Alana bumped their hips together gently and raised an eyebrow of her own. “Promise?”
37 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Study Session
Alana crossed the Anteros grounds and made her way to the dormitory. As she entered the building and walked the halls, she couldn’t help but think about the last time she had spoken to Alexy. Her anger had boiled over and she told him and Rosalaya that she was cutting them off. They looked so pitiful when she walked away... Even going so far as to send her a barrage of messages in a futile effort to get her attention. But, she had other things to worry about. They had greatly disrespected her and the one she loved most on multiple occasions, so, she was done. Of course, when she told Armin about it, he wasn’t too happy. He begged her to be more forgiving to his brother, but she reminded him of what had happened and told him she couldn’t handle it anymore. After a while, Armin stopped talking about his twin, and focused on the games they played. She hadn’t spoken to Alexy or Rosalaya since then. She told Priya and Castiel not to bring them up around her, she even avoided Leigh... Despite seeing him depressed as she passed him on the street one day...
So, when Morgan invited her over to his dorm for a study session, she was a little caught off guard....
It only took one knock on the door before Morgan opened it. “Hey Alana.” He smiled. “Hey Morgan. Thanks for inviting me.” She greeted as she stepped into the dorm and set her backpack down. “I’m surprised you took me up on my offer...” Morgan admitted as he and Alana took seats at his desk and pulled out their notebooks. “I know it’s a little unorthodox to not cut you off if I’m cutting Alexy out... But, you’re an innocent party in all of this... So, you don’t deserve punishment...” Morgan looked down. “About Alexy... He’s been really upset. First he lost you, then Rosalaya.” Alana looked confused. “What do you mean “then Rosalaya”?”
Morgan began explaining what he knew had happened between Alexy and Rosalaya. The miscarriage, the fight, the separation, and Alexy’s spiral into depression. Alana looked down. “I didn’t know. I saw Leigh a while ago, he looked completely distraught... I’m sorry that that happened... I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy...” Morgan looked at her. “Listen, I don’t know your full reasoning behind cutting them out, but I do know that they need you...” Alana clenched her fists. “But why? Why should I? I come home and make what I’ve become plain as day and they immediately jump on me. They stopped talking to me before I joined the R.D.R. I needed them to talk to while mom was in the hospital and they weren’t there. They abandoned me! Then, when I did come back, they made it very clear that they disregarded the one thing I asked them to do while I was gone! They tossed Nathaniel aside like he was garbage, despite knowing what he had gone through... They were so adamant about getting me with Hyun, even though they knew I only want to be with Nath... And don’t get me started on how they were trying to pour drinks down my throat... I’ve needed help! I’ve needed them to be my friends, and they couldn’t be bothered to do that. So... Tell me Morgan... Why? Why should I help them now?” Morgan thought for a few minutes as he looked down at his notes. “Because you’re a good person.”
Alana looked at him for a while. She didn’t know what to think. She knew they were both right. “Morgan, you say I’m a good person... A lot of people say that. But, I have friends who have been there for me for most of our lives, despite us all being apart. Viktor and Severina have been my best friends since Pre-K. We’ve been through thick and thin. They know what’s going on in my life and I know what’s going on in theirs. Both of them have made a great point to me... That point being that I’ve been trying to save the world for most of my life and that for once, I need to save myself. I’ve been constantly sacrificing myself for the well being of others. I’ve done it for them, Alexy, Rosalaya, Castiel, Nathaniel, Armin, Lysander, my mom, and for innocent people who I didn’t know until I was getting them to safety... Hell, I’m still doing that for Nath... But here’s the difference... The people I keep around know that my help goes both ways. Viktor, Severina, Armin, Lysander, Priya, Chani and Castiel all listen to me. They give me reasons to care about them... And because of that, I want to be there for them. Nathaniel is the love of my life. He has saved me so many times that its difficult to count them... In big ways and in small. Hell, even my high school bully, Amber, has become someone I care about because of how she treats me. All Alexy and Rosalaya have done since I got back is take. They never once lent me their ears. They didn’t give me a chance to talk to them and try to catch up. No... Instead, it was “Let’s party! Let’s get Alexy a boyfriend! Then let’s get you into a relationship! Go Team Hyun! Forget Nathaniel, he’s trash! Get yourself someone better! I’m Pregnant!”... I can’t do it anymore... I’m supposed to be finding a sense of “normalcy”... But, instead, I’m watching over Lyra’s and Nora’s training, I’m helping my boyfriend and his sister with their problems, I’m getting hit with an avalanche of questions from my mom’s fans, I have a fearsome reputation to uphold around the Black Tower, the Prime Minister wants me to go to Parliament and give my input as to how this country should be run, I have several big events to organize, as well as my “peace time job” to focus on. My time here is supposed to be the beginning of an ultimate act of self care... And I’m still getting ripped to shreds. Something had to give, so I cut them.” Morgan looked at her, shocked. “Alana... I’m so sorry. I had no idea...” “ That’s why I’m explaining it to you. I know you weren’t around for all the big stuff. I know you don’t know what I’m dealing with. Hell, very few people outside the Tower do. You think I don’t want to be there for them? I do. They were two of my best friends. It hurt to cut them off like that... Regardless of how easy it looked to the rest of the world... It hurt like a bitch to do it.”
Alana grabbed her water bottle out of her backpack, opened it and took a swig. “For fuck’s sake, I’m twenty three years old. I’m supposed to be going out with friends and having fun. That’s one reason why my apartment is so big and cool because it was built for me to entertain. But, no, instead, I’m doing my damnedest to stay away from the Black Tower and am spending most of my time either preparing for life after graduation, doing anything that classifies as a “Fuck You” to Azrael, or sitting around alone...” Morgan looked puzzled. “But what about that party in Yeleen’s dorm?” Alana put her water bottle back in her backpack. “I had barely just gotten back and it was one of Rosalaya’s wild schemes. It sounded like a great change of pace for me. The party itself was rather fun... I just had much more of a one track mind then than I do now...” Morgan raised an eyebrow. “From what I can tell, you’ve never had a one track mind. Even when we first met, I could tell that you try to be everywhere at once. You tried to help everyone around you be happy. That’s one reason why I like you. You do your best to be kind. Which is why it shocked me to see you cut Alexy and Rosalaya off like that.” Alana looked down and sighed. “After everything I’ve gone through... Everything I’m going through... Something had to give. I mean, for heaven’s sake, Alexy’s become a “Fair Weather Friend”. He’s either focused on himself, or focused on you. He only came to me whenever he needed or wanted something. No “fun shopping trips”, no “casual times at the cafe”, no walks in the park just chatting about random things... The last time he and I talked, he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise!” Morgan looked annoyed for a second. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Nathaniel lately. Do you spend much time with your other friends? Other than the ones you have inside the Tower? Because, if you don’t, that makes you one hell of a hypocrite.” Alana raised an eyebrow. “I play Overwatch with Armin at least once a week. The reason why I’m not spending much time with Castiel right now is because he keeps hitting on me. I’ve been TRYING to hang out with Priya more, but she’s had a lot of group projects lately. I hang out with Chani outside of class at least once a week... Hell, just recently, we marathoned Good Omens. I try to write to Lysander at least once a week, if not once a month... I even try to see Amber at least once a week, but as she’s an upcoming model, her schedules are more erratic than mine. As for Viktor and Severina? We text and video chat all the time. They’re the CEO and CFO of a multinational, multi-billion gold, tech company, so I can’t see them in person all the time, but we have plans to hang out when Detective Pikachu comes out and we’re talking about going on a trip after I graduate. Oh, and about my friends inside the Tower, I make damn sure to spend time with them that isn’t training. Is that enough proof for you?”
Morgan looked down at his notes and sighed. Alana closed her notebook and put it in her bag. “So, for Alexy and Rosalaya to get back in your good graces, they need to make an effort to have you in their lives? Despite the fact that they’re both severely depressed and don’t have many people to turn to? If they abandoned you when you needed them, wouldn’t you be more inclined to help them now?” Alana’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “You know what Nathaniel and Castiel do when they can’t reach me? They go to the Black Tower and make damn sure I know they’re there. And if I’m not there, they fucking find me. You know what Alexy and Rosalaya have done to try to get my attention? They’ve attempted to text me. I’ve passed Alexy several times on campus, and he has NEVER tried to walk up to me! NEVER! If they really needed and wanted me back in their lives, they would storm the place like everyone else does!” Alana stood up. “Even when I was at my lowest, I still tried to reach out. I called people, I video chatted, I wrote letters, I did SOMETHING. Now, if they make it to where I can’t ignore them, then I will be forced to face them. But, I’m tired of being the only one to truly make any moves.”
Alana grabbed her bag and began walking towards the door. “Alana, wait.” Morgan called. Alana shook her head. “I think I’m done studying for the day. It’s a blow off class for me as it is. Again, thanks for inviting me over. Have a good day.” She sighed as she left the dorm.
As she left the dorm rooms, her mind ran over what had just happened. The significant other of one of her ex best friends invited her over to their dorm to study for a class that everyone knew she didn’t need to study for. He then told her that Rosalaya had had a miscarriage, which is why she was trying to talk to her and why Leigh were so depressed and the Clothes Shop had been closed. Alexy innocently brought up adoption to Rosalaya, which caused her to lash out, which resulted in an argument so bad that they cut each other off. “I’m sure he was trying to be helpful, but from what Morgan said, Alexy did it the day she lost the baby. Which was a really stupid move.” She muttered as she entered the Quad. She then thought about what Morgan had just tried to do. He had tried to convince her to talk to Alexy, despite knowing that she had cut him off. She knew that he was probably thinking about how much of a selfish wretch she was at that very moment, and she was wondering if he’d be right. Alana reached into her pocket, pulled out her earbuds, put them in her ears, flipped through the music on her phone, picked a good song and began walking off campus.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Honestly, this was overdue. I’ve needed to address the fact that Alana doesn’t talk to or see Alexy and Rosalaya for a while. I know this one is mostly dialogue, but it was necessary for Alana’s Canon. Yes, this presents an entryway for Alexy to get back into Alana’s life. There will be a sequel to this. I just have to write it.
#my candy love#my candy love university life#my candy love morgan#mcl#mcl morgan#mclul#mclul morgan#amour sucre#amor doce#sweet amoris#amour surcre#amour doce#Sweet kiss#sweet love#Sweet flirt#sweet crush#cdm#cdmu#cdm morgan#cdmu morgan#Corazon de Melon#corazon de bombon#slodki flirt#dolce flirt#mcl alana roster#mcl alana#melody alana roster
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Morning, love,” he hummed pressing a kiss to her cheek coffee in hand.
She stretched the bedsheets falling off her and blinked, “watching me sleep again?”
She catches his small smile as he turns his head away to look out the window. He loves watching her sleep. He won’t admit it but she knows it’s true. That’s when he knew he loved her, all the way back in year five. It took her awhile longer, but he never held that against her.
She loved him like this, in the early morning the soft light from the window illuminating his face. He looked almost angelic then. Without permission her hand traced the stubble on his cheek. He laughed and kissed her fingers one by one, “love you, beautiful girl.”
Her cheeks still burned, and her heart still fluttered the way it did so many years ago. She wished, not for the first time, that the rest of the world could see him this way: so soft, so gentle, so kind. Her fingers traced her tie and she kissed him on the corner of his lips, “only half as much as I love you.”
“You missed,” he breathed like always, moving his mouth till it met hers perfectly. The kiss was soft and sweet… much to short. They were always too short.
There was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that hadn’t been there in her youth. At times he proudly tell himself that he put it there. She smiled wiggling out of bed, “I’m going to go check on Rana.”
“She,” he started, but Bex was already out of the room. He chuckled. He had just spent the past hour singing his baby to sleep. He loved Rana. In all his wildest dreams he never imagined this: a beautiful house, a life with Bex, a daughter with Bex’s eyes and his nose. His heart swelled. He knew he must have done something right in this life to be so lucky.
It wasn’t long later that Tonks arrived, Lupin and baby Teddy in tow. Bex warmly greeted them at the door, a hug for each and everyone, letting Hec just lay back and enjoy the moment.
“Looks like today’s going to be the day,” Tonks announced like they were going off to a party rather than a war.
Bex nodded, “right, just let me go get Rana ready.”
Hector watched her leave so light and carefree, so different from the sad girl he’d first met. He knew he was standing there like an idiot in love and that Tonks had already moved on to teasing him in the background, but he didn’t care. She returned a moment later.
“Let’s get the kids to Andromedas,” she spoke with Tonks making arrangements.
His heart tugged. He wanted to think like Tonks, to pretend this was just another day in their blissfully domestic lives, but in his heart he knew it wasn’t. No amount of pretending could fix that.
To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He hated to think he was a coward, but the childish desire to take Bex and flee this accursed place was hard to shake. Hogwarts, once his home, contained too many sad memories for him to ever feel at ease there.
She squeezed his hand gently, “stop worrying, you’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”
“I’m not worried,” he denied avoiding her gaze, “just ready to get this over with.”
Bex knows him too well though, he always had thought she was too clever to be a Hufflepuff. He could see the gears turn in her head as she decided what to say, “well I’m worried.”
“Don’t be,” he turned to hold her resting his head atop hers, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise.”
“You never do,” she smiled looking up at him, “you’re a hero and a healer, Hec. I trust you with my life.”
“Stop being gross you two,” Andre laughs jokingly his arms wrapped loosely around Alana.
Bex shoots her a glare. She’d never forgiven Alana for leaving Andre right before the wedding. Her best friend had been absolutely crushed. Andre had taken Alana back, of course, but that didn’t mean Bex had to. Hector gave the pair a tight smile. He didn’t particularly care for the drama, but no matter the circumstances he’d be on Bex’s side.
“This way Mister Silva,” McGonagall directs him toward where the most wounded would be accumulate, “we’re going to be needing your skills.”
Panic seizes him, “actually Professor, I’d perfect to stick with my wife.”
“Understandable Mister Silva and if we currently weren’t at war I’d oblige your wants,” McGonagall said softly but sternly. Sadly your wife is needed in the west tower and you- you are needed elsewhere.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got her,” Tonks said giving his a quick hug, “you’re the one we should be worried about. Becareful on the front lines, yeah?”
He waves her off until he see’s Bex’s concerned face, “I’ll be fine.”
“Promise me,” she demands sternly, “I can’t live without you.”
He considers arguing with her. He’d be damned if something happened to him and she goes and off’s herself. He already knew what she’d say to him though. She’d tell him that was all the more reason he should promise. Even if he did die… “I promise you’ll never have to.”
“Was that hard,” she smiles her eyes creasing, the beginnings of crow’s feet, evidence that they’d lived past their sad youths. She hugs him and moves to leave.
“Hey,” he laughs pulling her back to him, “aren’t you going to give me a kiss for good luck?”
“When you make it back I’ll consider it,” she teases pressing one half kiss to the side of his mouth. He had to come back now. That’s how it worked.
He’s out in the field his hands practically in Winston’s stomach when he see’s it. His heart drops.
“Go Mystic, “shouts out to him her hands quickly taking over where his had stilled. Nothing feels real, like he’s somehow walking through a nightmare, drifting through screaming crying spells and blood. His mind races, Bex was there! Oh god Bex!
He blinks himself awake his feet taking him double time in that direction.
Quicker and quicker he moves pushing back against the flow of fleeing traffic. He could barely think, barely breathe. He took the steps two at a time with all the might of a titian hoping beyond all hope that he could reach her on time.
Hector,” she smiled at him a small laugh just beneath the surface, “why are you looking at me like that?”
“I-“ he blinks in embarrassment not knowing how to respond, “I’m not looking at you.”
“You weren’t,” her smile fades somewhat unsure as she played with her ribbon feeling embarrassed, “it must have been my imagination….”
“I meant I’m not looking at you like that.” He moved closed closer to her unsurely, “I’m just glad you’re awake is all.”
She gave him a small smile in return, “me too…. I really thought I was a goner back there.”
When he makes it to the top all he sees at first is destruction.
“Hector,” Alana cries out jumping up from the floor, oh god Bex, “I tried to push her out of the way! She- she- she thought she could get to Tonks and Lupin. I told her it was impossible but-“
“I could have made it,” Bex objects softly, “I could have saved them….”
“Oh godric, oh merlin, I’m so sorry,” Alana cries out throwing her hands over her mouth, “I’m…”
Hector isn’t listening though, he drops down to his knees besides Bex, “damnit Bex.”
“You’re okay,” she says softly, he fingers reaching out for his.
He swallows, “you will be too, just hold on, please….. I need you.”
“No you don’t,” she says softly her fingers tracing his cheek as he tried with all his might to heal her, “you’re the smartest, strongest, bravest man I’ve ever met Hector Silva. It’s why I fell in love with you. Before you my life was sad and lonely and dark…. I never thought I’d live this long…. Let alone be this happy. And you did make me so so happy…”
He notices her breathing shallowing out, “save your breath Bex, tell me later- when your better -when…”
He couldn’t accept any other alternative.
“There isn’t going to be a later,” she says softly, she can feel herself fading, but she needs him to know, “I love you Hec, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Not one damn second of it-“
She gasps and he holds her closer to him cradling her, hoping beyond hope, some miracle would happen.
“I think- I- owe- you- a kiss,” she says between breaths.
He shakes his head tears in his head, “when you’re better.”
“Oh Hec,” she says pressing her lips to his her eyes closing for the last time her fingers slipping from his face….
“Bex? Bex,” he begs although the sensible part of his brain tells him she’s gone back, “come back….. please…. Please come back….”
He curls into her unable to care about the world falling apart around him when his had already ended.
She’s smiling at him from behind the ivy. He chuckles, “you know this is bad luck right?”
“How so,” she teases slipping around it till she’s right next to him, an angel in white.
He rolls his eyes but his annoyance is shallow at best, “the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”
“I had something I wanted to lend you,” she smiles mischievously, “it’s our something borrowed.”
“Alight,” he chuckles, “lay it on me.”
She smiles, standing on her tip toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He laughs much too loudly his arms grabbing the little minx before she could escape, “you tricked me.”
“Not a trick,” she giggles, “it’s a loan.”
A loan he repays on the alter, his lips gently pressed to hers, his heart hammering in his chest. Mrs. Bex Silva. He swore right then he’d never complain about anything ever again. This is certainly more than he deserved.
“He hasn’t moved,” Penny whispered to Dia worriedly as they past, “he won’t let them take the body.”
He tried to block them out, tried not to listen, clinging to her tighter fighting back sleep, afraid he’d wake up to never see her again. She was wrong about him, he wasn’t strong enough. There was a lot he could handle but this was unbearable.
Saffron sat down beside him but didn’t bother talking but she didn’t really look all there either.
“Guess you showed up, huh.”
“Yeah….”
“She’s,” he struggled to find the words, so he didn’t bother trying. And they sat in silence for a long while.
“Hector,” Andromeda said softly, “Rana needs you, you need to let go now.”
Gently she remove Bex from his grasp and replaced her with his sleeping babe, “please, she already lost her mom…. Don’t leave her too. I don’t think my heart could bear another orphan today…..”
The baby cooed at him blinking it’s sleepy eyes. God she looked like her mother…… He loved her. Loved her so much it hurt, “I love you Rana.”
Her little baby fingers held to his and knew that if he hadn’t been before he was now twisted around her little finger. He was going to give her everything in the world. Unlike her mother she’d never have to know anything of pain, or darkness, or loneliness.
Some small part of him stitched himself back together….
“Daddy,” she smiled at him as he tried braiding her hair brush in mouth, “what was mommy like?”
He smiles gently spitting out the brush. To anyone else he’d have avoided the question, but his tender heart could deny his daughter nothing, “your mother was the most clever, funniest, bravest woman I ever met. We were in our fifth year at Hogwarts when we fell in love- or rather when I fell in love with her. We were fighting monsters in the forbidden forrest….”
He tells her the story again a small smile on his face the whole way through up till the end. He always hated endings.
“So you’re like a real knight in shining armor,” she says when he finishes, “I can’t wait till I’m old enough to fight monsters.”
“No monster fighting for you Coração,” he says sternly placing a small kiss upon her head, “leave that to me.”
She smiles at him with Bex’s beautiful eyes filled with happiness, and presses a kiss to his cheek, “love you daddy.”
“Love you too Rana, love you too.”
Tagging: @scribbleries @i-dare-you-to-call-me-becca @elenaroberts @heleneplays @weasleyismyking540 @ goddessofsleep
#HecBex#harry potter#harry potter hogwarts mystery#hogwats mystery#hphm#hphm discord#battle of hogwarts#post canon#angst#Hector Silva#rebecca lord#long post
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every Night In My Dreams || Little Fishes [BDT]
Summary: Alana, Reed, and Charlie meet their fates.
@color-me-unique
@alana-the-badbitch
@among-the-lostboys
[tw death, electric shock]
JOHN:
The lights in John and Alana’s cabin had gotten low as the candles burned down. In the softness, Alana looked like a girl from a much earlier time-- a lady lifted from the yellowed pages of Victorian poetry. Her eyes had turned a much darker blue here, rich as sapphire instead of light as sky. But they were also still the same: deep oceans all, John cradled in their depths. He touched her cheek and stroked the locks of her dark hair, feeling sleepy all the way through. Sleepy, lovedrunk, and still somehow a little shy, even though-- why?
He was married now. The two of them with rings on their fingers and that was all. They were tucked in bed with the covers drawn up but still close enough that John felt Alana’s foot slip up against his own bare leg, and it made him shiver.
He moved down to kiss her lips one more time, a lingering thing. His hand moved from her cheek down to her shoulder and then the soft skin of her back. She moved closer to him and he smiled. The kiss broke mostly because John started chuckling.
And he started chuckling because-- he couldn’t believe it. Him, married. Married to a mermaid. (But he’d have to figure out what that meant in the morning.)
“I have a feeling we won’t be getting much sleep tonight, Mrs. Darling,” teased John. Their noses brushed.
And that was when the ship gave a massive jolt.
ALANA
The ceremony had gone beautifully and when the evening came, John and Alana had retired to their newly-shared cabin and given themselves to the other completely. Alana’s heartbeat still raced and she felt full of warmth and desire and most of all love.
She remembered at age 13 swearing she’d never get married, for she saw how silly it made all her sisters and she didn’t want to be a housewife. She wanted to study engines and she wanted to fix things with her hands. Yet here she was -- married, but to a man who encouraged her love of learning, who challenged her in the best of ways, who knew her.
She gazed at him fondly.
John kissed her again and she eagerly pulled him closer, the taste of him on her lips intoxicating. She wanted more, already, and at his words gave a little laugh before she leaned in for another kiss --
The ship rattled.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Goodness -- whatever could that be?”
JOHN:
Perhaps if John were not John, he could have let that strange jolt go and instead kiss his wife-- and kiss and kiss and kiss her, until he was drunk with it.
But he was John. John Darling-- dutiful intern and promising engineer. And though Alana’s lips shone still, her body still close to his own, that sound meant something was definitely wrong.
“I don’t know,” he said as he pulled away. He rolled onto his back, then sat up. For a moment he simply sat there-- waiting. Waiting for another jolt or some sort of sound. For the bell to ring. For something to happen.
Instead it was quiet.
And quiet was bad too.
“The engines have stopped,” he murmured. He looked back at Alana. “We’ve stopped. We’re not moving anymore. Something’s wrong.”
And trailing off, he threw back the covers, reaching for his trousers and slipping them on quickly.
ALANA
If Alana were not Alana, perhaps she would have issue with this and pout and coax her husband back into their warm bed. But Alana knew how ships worked and the thrum of the engine had gone dull. Something was, indeed, wrong.
The encounter with the madman days earlier echoed in her mind.
The Titanic is going to sink.
She sat up, edging over to the side of the bed, knowing that no matter how much she wanted to help, to figure out the problem at the bottom of this all, she’d be shut out of the engine room and the captain’s meetings. It didn’t matter that she was Triton’s daughter or that she could run circles around all these engineers and officers.
John had told her the ship would be safe. Even if there were not enough lifeboats. It would be safe. She trusted him.
Still, that crazed fellow’s ramblings --
“If it’s something that needs taking care of,” she said, standing up and putting a hand on John’s shoulder, “do not worry about rushing back here. I understand -- this is important.”
JOHN:
John had snatched a shirt from the floor too and was buttoning it up as Alana’s hand touched his shoulder. He looked back at her, his fingers pausing. He knew what she’d say before she said it because he knew Alana. And one look confirmed it-- and he saw, beyond the concern, a little spark that he had too. It was fuel to a fire. They both wanted to know what happened, and of course, they wanted the Titanic to be safe but--
They wanted answers to questions. Why would John not return before he had them?
“I’m sure it won’t take too long, my love.” He said. He leaned in to kiss her again, a quick, chaste thing. It was the sort of kiss he remembered between his parents in the mornings and at night.
It fluttered through him as he imagined doing that every day.
“I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll bring the full report, eh?” He stood from the bed and slipped his shoes on, casting a glance at his coat before deciding to leave it behind-- if he was going to make a trek to the engine room it’d be much too hot anyway.
But he rummaged in the drawers for-- yes. His plans, his journal, all that he’d worked on for these years. Maybe there’d be an answer in one of them.
And then John Darling whisked out the door, off to find his answers.
ALANA
One last kiss -- brief, but enough -- and John was out the door and Alana was left with dozens of unanswered questions. She sat back down on the bed, wondering when John would return -- what would he report? Was it just a little hiccup with the engine? Or was there something more?
The Titanic is going to sink.
What if that madman had been right? The thought crept into her mind, like the cold drip of water. That couldn’t be true, could it? He’d known about the Tritons and he’d known about her favourite colour -- what else did he know?
What if she had told her father? What if she’d listened to his ramblings?
She felt a bit sick, and pressed a hand to her mouth. So many questions. She always had so many questions. That’s why her governess found her annoying, that’s why John found her charming. She had so many questions, but now -- she could get some answers. The engineers and officers would shut her out, but she had something they didn’t -- this Magick fellow who spoke of things to come, who knew things he shouldn’t --
Bloody hell, was she going to do this?
Still in her nightgown, she stood up, reaching for her dressing robe and then for her coat. There was no time to properly dress in her daywear, so the wool coat over her night things would have to do.
If she had to track down that rambling madman across this grand ship wearing just her nightgown, she would.
Alana Triton -- no, Alana Darling was going to get some answers.
MEANWHILE...
CHARLIE:
To recap--
Actually, no recap. Charlie did not have the mental energy to replay his many mistakes. Rethinking them turned his stomach, so Charlie was holding himself, arms strapped around his tiny person, as comfortably as one could when you were handcuffed to a pipe in a makeshift prison. Course it wasn’t really a cell, there wasn’t exactly a traditional brig on a passenger ship like this. But the door was locked and there was no getting out, not for Reed and not for Charlie.
So he’d doomed them. The both of them. Charlie might not care about himself, he deserved each death he suffered through.
But Reed? He’d killed Reed.
The ship, of course, crashed. He and Reed jolted in place at the impact, a giant shudder moving through the hull of the ship. Charlie looked up and saw the fear as it passed over Reed’s face.
There was nothing more he could do.
Charlie’s eyes filled with tears at once. “Reed,” he croaked. “Reed, I am so-- so so sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have asked for your help. Y-you could be-- you might’ve had a chance if it wasn’t for me. I’m so sorry. I, I’m so-- I’m so--”
I killed you.
Then his breath caught. And caught again. He gasped, dragging at the oxygen in the room. Panic attack, Charlie thought but just because he knew what it was didn’t mean he could stop it.
Charlie buried his head against his knees, gasping his way into sobs.
REED:
Charlie had been right. All of it--everything he said--was true and no one had listened to him. Except Reed. And now Reed was going to pay the price for trying to be a hero.
Reed was going to die.
The boat jolted and Reed was tossed across the cell, his shoulder slamming into the bars, and he looked at Charlie, his eyes wide. Even though Charlie was the reason Reed was here, he didn’t hate him. In fact, if he had it to do over again, he would make the same choice. He would still listen, because no one should have to go through this alone.
All of that didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified. Reed had never been this scared in his entire life.
He was definitely going to die, and it was like all of the air was sucked out of the room. He was also absurdly hot and he started pulling at his clothes, trying to get them further away from his skin. They were too rough. Too tight. Too much.
He pulled really hard at his shirt, stretching it until he heard a pop, but that didn’t make it any better. The cell was still too small. There still wasn’t enough air. He was still hot.
He looked around the cell in a frantic rush, trying to find something to pick the lock on the cell. There was nothing.
Reed went up to the door and shook it violently, then looked back over at Charlie, pleading.
Because Reed couldn’t scream for help. He tried, but no sound came out--nothing at all.
CHARLIE:
Charlie was not here right now.
He was rocking, head down, his breathing still too panicked. He couldn’t remember any of his exercises. He couldn’t remember-- anything. His whole brain had gone white static and all he could think about was what was going to happen in the next two hours-and-forty-minutes. He had already lived through it in all its various stages. He’d died on the third class decks and he’d died in the boiler room and he’d gotten trampled on the stairs and he’d gotten shot in the chest and he’d fallen overboard and he’d made it to the very end, once, just once, before the suction of the ship took him down and he drowned in the frozen water, unable to escape.
Charlie knew exactly what was going to happen for the next two hours and forty minutes and there was nothing he could do to unknow it.
He just wanted to go home. To wake up.
He gasped and sobbed and that’s what he cried to himself. “Wake up-- wake up-- wake up---”
Charlie did not wake up.
REED:
Charlie wasn’t paying attention and Reed couldn’t handle that. He wasn’t going to be stuck in here alone. He couldn’t be stuck in here alone.
He pulled himself away from the bars and went up to Charlie, shaking him by the shoulders. He wanted to scream at the boy, tell him to snap out of it and help them get out of this cage, but he couldn’t do that so he took his hand and pulled him to the front of the cell and pointed at the lock with a question in his eyes.
CHARLIE:
Reed literally shook him out of it.
Actually-- it was Reed’s wide, terrified eyes. They stared right into Charlie’s puffy ones and it was then Charlie remembered outside of two hours and forty minutes. He remembered this boy, only much much tinier, and how when Reed borrowed Charlie’s crayons, he always put the crayon back in the right spot and didn’t make fun of Charlie for being so meticulous about it.
He needed Charlie. Charlie might have died on this ship a hundred times, but Reed hadn’t.
“I--I--” he stuttered, blinked, tears still dribbling from his eyes. “I--r-r-right. Right. I--okay. We-- maybe we can-- get out of here. Right. Right.”
Slowly, Charlie stood up and he gripped the piping behind him. Now was a good time for him to come up with a plan.
REED:
Reed hadn’t dared hope until Charlie said there might be a way. Sure, he had been searching for some sort of escape, but his mind had been thinking the worst from the first moment. Now, that small spark of light inside of him flared bright and Reed hugged Charlie.
It was a stupid thing to do, really--they needed every second they could get--but Reed needed this hug. He needed it to tell Charlie how much he appreciated him just being there. He needed it to tell Charlie that he forgave him for everything. He needed it to let Charlie know that he was his friend and no matter what happened, at least they weren’t alone.
And, most of all, hugging Charlie felt like the right thing to do. It felt like he’d hugged Charlie a million times before now and that was a comfort. Because even if it was just his brain playing tricks on him, he could maybe start to hope that perhaps this was all a big mistake like Charlie had said. Perhaps he didn’t really belong here and he was from somewhere else and he could wake up any second into his real life.
It was funny really, the kinds of things a brain can cling to in a moment of crisis. But Reed clung to those things just like he was clinging to Charlie.
When Reed pulled back, his face was a little bit calmer. He was going to do everything he could to get out of this cell, and if he failed? Well, at least now he had something to hold on to.
CHARLIE:
“Oof--” Reed hugged him again, squeezing him so tight that for a moment Charlie was bewildered with the pressure. He lifted a hand on instinct to try to pat Reed on the back. He didn’t know why he did that. It felt a little silly, didn’ t it? Like it was the literal least that Charlie could do for Reed considering all that he’d fucked up.
But Charlie couldn’t focus on that. And so once the hug ended, he began to pace and rubbed at his temples. “C’mon-- c’mon…” he hissed at himself, trying to come up with some sort of plan. He went through all of his lists. He knew what to do in case of fire, or earthquake, or tornado. If there were a solar flare that knocked out all technology, Charlie had his bug-out bag ready and an evac plan to get to his bunker and avoid the social fallout.
But he’d never prepared a: escape from a locked room as the Titanic filled with water.
“There has to be something in here-- something!” Charlie stressed. He glanced around but the room had been more or less emptied. Charlie had his glasses, Reed had a pencil.
And that was when the water began to seep under the door.
“Oh-- oh shit,” Charlie hissed. “Oh SHIT!”
REED:
If it felt like a dream before, it didn’t anymore.
The water made it real.
Reed turned around and stared at the door in horror. The ocean was coming to swallow them whole. Even if they got out now, they were going to have to outrun the ocean. What if they opened the door and it came rushing in?
Charlie had really hit the nail on the head. Shit was right.
Or fuck. Fuck would’ve worked too.
Either way, Reed saw light. A frantic, glowing light circling his vision and making everything sharper and more defined. He needed out of here.
Reed rushed to the bars and started to shake them again.
Out out out! He couldn’t talk or yell or scream, so he started kicking at the bars as tears streamed down his face.
ALANA
Finding the crazy man had taken a little asking and a little being directed from one staff member to the next, but finally, finally, Alana had been told that after some concerning incident, the rambling madman had gotten himself locked up in the brig -- er, spare room -- with another staff member. Which, you know, was probably for the best if he had indeed been a rambling madman, and which, you know, was probably what she had wanted to happen when she told John --
It was just a bit annoying now.
She hiked down to the lower decks, walking with a sense of purpose, a trick she learned when she’d sneak into her father’s workshops and offices. Down she went, reaching the corridor where the one steward said she would find Charlie and his companion Reed. Alana looked through each door, finding empty rooms, darkened ones --
The hallway was wet. There was water. It lapped at the hem of her nightgown. Her heart beat a bit faster.
The Titanic is going to sink.
No -- John said it would not. John would help fix this and Alana would learn what she could from crazy Charlie and she would help.
She picked up her skirts so that they would not cling to her legs and she walked a bit faster. The lights flickered. The cold water made her itch for her tail. She ignored it, pushing through.
Finally, she peered into a window, and spotted the two men. She let out a relieved huff of air, then reached for the door. It did not budge. She wiggled the handle, pounding on the window with her other hand.
“Can you hear me?” she shouted.
CHARLIE:
There was someone at the door.
Charlie was about to give up-- or well, just start screaming actually because he didn’t think there was anything he could do besides that at this stage and who knows, maybe someone would come along and unlock that door for them. But he didn’t have to start screaming. Before he could scream for help, help arrived.
He whirled around and his eyes widened behind his cracked glasses. “Alana,” he said. He said it the way you said the name of a friend you hadn’t seen for a very long time. He said it and realized he wasn’t surprised. Of course it had to be Alana. Something about that made sense.
Then again: “Alana!” he exclaimed and raced to the window. “Alana, you came! You believe me! Unlock the door, please!”
ALANA
The door would not budge. She rattled the handle, pounding on the door as if that would help. For whatever reason, Alana felt struck with a wave of panic. She had to get this door open. Charlie’s frenzied face stared at her, eyes pleading. She had turned him away before, but the water was at her shins and the boat was sinking and --
She felt like she knew him --
That was silly, she knew that was silly, she had never seen this man before in her life --
“It’s not opening!” She pressed herself fully against the door, heaving her full body weight. “I don’t have the keys. I don’t -- you have to tell me what you know. We can fix this. I can find John and my daddy and tell them what to do.” Her voice grew faster, a little hoarse, and even as she said that she thought of her wet skirts sticking to her legs and the rising water and she thought of the engine rooms and she tried to calculate how much water --
She swallowed. She could leave these two here. She could go back to John.
But she met Charlie’s gaze.
“You – what happens, Charlie?” she said, voice suddenly small.
CHARLIE:
No keys. Well, that was okay, right? Maybe she could get the key. Alana had come for them-- for him. It must mean something. It must mean there was another path through the woods for the both of them: Alana, this time, steering the ship (bad pun, Charlie), in charge of both of their fates. She could find the key, and then she would be back, and then she’d save them. Just like Charlie saved her.
Only, of course, he didn’t.
What happens, Charlie? Alana said through the door and they were back in the woods again. He saw it all like a scene set in slow-motion. There was the light of the campfire, Alana’s drunken eyes, Charlie’s confession, headlights cutting through the dark. Three bodies, that night, three bodies, and Alana, Alana had not been saved, but she had lived.
What happens, Charlie?
Charlie’s stomach churned with all his answers. How he loved answers. How he hated them. Here’s what he wanted to say: We save each other, Alana.
But Charlie couldn’t lie.
“The ship sinks. It goes down by the head, and splits in two. It takes two hours and forty minutes and a ship’s going to come, and it’s going to save the people who get in the boats, but they’re not gonna load the boats enough, Alana, and a thousand people might die. There’s no changing any of that now.” Saying it seared something inside of Charlie-- so often he had thought it, and fought against it, but never said it.
Now he said it and it was true. And Charlie… he breathed in deep and his hands pressed against the door and felt at peace.
“I’m going to die, Alana. It’s okay-- I promise. It happens to me all the time. But you got to get the keys for Reed, you got to get-- you need to get upstairs, right now! You have to load as many people on the boats as you can. Make them listen to you. You’re not just someone’s daughter, alright, you’re Alana fucking Triton and where I come from, that means something! Promise me.”
REED:
Someone else was here! Someone who was going to save them! Reed’s heart leapt up into his throat and he wanted to jump, he was so happy. They were going to get out it was going to be okay. It didn’t matter that there was water rushing under the door.
The girl looked through the window and she shouted at Charlie. Yes. Yes go and get keys, Reed wanted to yell at her, tell her thank you for coming to save their lives, but he couldn’t so he let Charlie do the talking. Until he heard Charlie saying he was going to die.
No.
No, they were both going to be okay. Charlie wasn’t going to die here. Reed wasn’t going to die here. They were going to be fine.
Reed went back up to Charlie and took his hand as he asked the girl to promise him. He took his hand and squeezed it, trying to tell him it was going to be okay. Trying to help him not be so afraid. They had hope.
ALANA
She was going to fix things. She didn’t know anything about this madman -- was he mad? Perhaps he was the only sane one on this entire ship -- but he had a plan and she knew she had to listen to him. She could go to the engine room. She could tell her daddy and John -- hell, she could tell the officers on her own. She would do it.
“Okay,” said Alana and then for split second, she lingered.
Would it have changed, then, the fate of the doomed Titanic if Alana had not lingered that one second longer? If she had turned around right there and then and hiked her skirts up and marched right up the stairs? Fate, very often, is set in stone, so perhaps her words would’ve fallen on mute ears, perhaps her father, her John would not be able to do anything -- perhaps they would not listen. Perhaps, though, just a few more lifeboats would be filled.
But in that split second, the lights flickered once, twice, then a shattering sound as the overhead lights exploded and crashed to the ground.
An electric shock lashed out through the water. Fate, it seemed, did not like Alana cheating death twice.
Before she knew what happened, a wave of heat and pain hit Alana. Her body buckled, twitching and jerking, knocked to the floor --and in the split second before she lost consciousness, her lips parted, because she knew ---
Charlie Little. Charlie. She was Alana Cordelia Triton, PrideU chemical engineering, and she’d gotten hit by a car and --
CHARLIE:
Alana--! Reed--!
He saw everything happen a split second before it happened. His eyes dilated and through their tunnels, he saw the light spark, break, the wires slice like a knife through the air--
Charlie saw them die a second before they died, but it was too many seconds too late. It always was.
He tried to warn her anyway. His mouth opened.
Then the wires hit the water. The electricity blossomed through the water, the salt, down the hall and up again. Charlie’s body lashed with the sudden pain, jerking away from the door. He hit the ground with a thud and the water splashed into the air, each one a shining droplet.
Charlie watched them fly in slow motion. He saw Swynlake through them--
His body spasmed. His brain short-circuited. His heart stopped.
He died.
...
And then Charlie sat up in bed with a wild shout. “ALANA--”
“Mrrr,” grumbled Emily down at the end of his bed. His cat blinked her slitted green eyes and kneaded at the bed covers. “Mrr.”
“Emily,” gasped Charlie. “Oh my god, Emily. Oh my god--”
“Mrr,” said Emily again. Then she turned away from him, plopped back down, and went to sleep.
Charlie flopped back too, his breath still coming in pants. And that was when he realized that one of his hands had folded itself into a very tight fist. His brows furrowed. He lifted his hand in front of his face and slowly, finger by finger, opened it.
In his hand was a wrinkled, damp scrap of paper with Reed’s handwriting on it, and one word: Friends.
“Holy shit,” said Charlie.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Future (Part 3 of The Past) Chris x MC & Damien x MC
And here is the last part! Thank you for all your sweet comments, you probably have no idea but it makes me so happy seing how you like, reblog and comment on my fics! It was supposed to be only one fic that turned into a short series! Thank you everyone! It’s a weird, bittersweet feeling since my first mini series is ending. I really hope you’ll like the last part!
All rights go to Pixelberry, I do not own the characters.
Rating: As per usual, normal, nothing scandalous
Perfect Match & The Junior crossover
Chris furiously packed his suitcase and cursed himself for being the cowardliest coward in the world of cowardice. Basically, he wasn’t happy with the conversation he didn’t have. But the word “friends” meant for him the end, they were after all just friends and she was happy with her investigator. He will not meddle in her life. If she’s happy he will be too. That’s all that matters. He closed the suitcase and left his hotel room. After giving back his key and calling a cab, he took his phone and unlocked it. There was one unread message. From Amy.
“Chris, is everything ok?”
Of course it wasn’t. Nothing was ok. He just lost the love of his life again. He quickly typed “Yes, don’t worry about me:)” and sent the message. What an idiot he was. He kicked a nearby bench but he immediately regretted that as pain overwhelmed his body. “Shit” he hissed as people around him looked at him with concern. “I’m fine!” he said and walked away to look for his cab. He had only 3 hours left in New York until his flight to Maine but he intended to spend them at the airport.
Damien entered the apartment and found his girlfriend already dressed and looking at her phone. “Is everything alright?” he asked, “You look worried.” She turned back at him, noticing him for the first time, “Oh hi! I don’t know really, there’s something wrong with Chris I think but he says he’s fine.” “Oh? Did he say something?” Damien asked. “No, actually no. He came here but didn’t say anything. I just found it weird.” She replied. Damien poured some water into his glass and drank it. It’s very weird, he thought. Why would he come here again? Did he have some business for my girlfriend? Amy came closer to Damien. “Are we still going to that dinner thing? I’m starving,” she smiled. He smiled back, “Of course. Let me just grab my stuff.” After a moment Damien came out from their bedroom with a new jacket on and his bag. “Shall we?” he asked. Amy nodded and he took her hand. Together, they reached her favorite place. Damien looked stealthily at her to see her reaction but she clearly had something else going on in her mind as her face didn’t express any emotion. Damien tried to hide his disappointment but hoped that the other part would go better.
The plane finally took off after the longest three hours Chris ever had to wait. He tried to shift his thoughts towards something else but they stubbornly kept coming back to Amy. He promised not to be a coward, to own up to his feelings. And what? He didn’t. And now he was running away. Again. Was he scared of the answer she could have for him? Was he scared of being rejected? Or maybe he was scared to change anything between them, especially now, when he finally had her back in his life. Chris put on his headphones and turned up the volume of his music. It’s gonna be a looong flight.
“Amy?” Damien looked up at his girlfriend barely touching the food she was given. She glanced at him. “I’m sorry” she shortly said. “I don’t feel well. I actually feel terrible. I’m really sorry,” she added. Damien smiled encouragingly, “Hey, don’t be. Do you wanna tell me what’s been bothering you?” Amy looked at her boyfriend.
She loved him. There was no question about it. She also knew he loved her too. And he was ready for another step with her whereas she thought she wasn’t. She felt tired with her mind, constantly thinking “what if.” She didn’t want to pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. She was confused and had some feelings for both, Damien and Chris. And no matter what Damien deserved to know. She wanted to be fair and honest with him even if that’d break her.
Cautiously, she asked, “Damien, do you see your future with me?” He was shocked at first. His mind went crazy, he thought something was coming and he wasn’t sure he was ready. “Yes, of course I do” he answered honestly, “Do you?” Amy closed her eyes. She had to tell him. It was hard but it’s the right thing to do. “Not sure” she whispered, eyes still shut down. After a moment she slowly opened them and saw Damien, stunned, not knowing what to say. “Is this because I did that stupid research?” he asked. “No! No. It’s just, I-I’m confused.” she said, “I love you Damien. So much. But you deserve to know, my feelings towards Chris they, they kinda came back. And even though he doesn’t feel the same, it’s just unfair to you if I acted as if nothing happened.”
Damien was silent, not sure how to respond. Deep, deep down he felt she might have still be in love with Chris but hearing that in reality was much worse. He touched his sleeve where a pretty sapphire engagement ring waited for the perfect moment. Which probably would never happen. “I’m really sorry Damien. I couldn’t just pretend I’m fine and be with you while thinking about him. I’m not like that.” Still no word from him. “Hey, look at me,” she reached her hand for him but he pulled it away. Tears formed in her eyes. She’s lost him. “Damien... I love you. I just wanted to be honest. This...feeling may go away, or it may not. I just need time to figure it out. I don’t want you to spend the rest your your amazing life with a wrong person.” “So you’re a wrong person?” he finally asked. “I don’t know Damien. That’s what I need to figure out. But I don’t want give you only 50% of me, you deserve 100%.” He nodded sadly, “I understand.”
After the dinner Damien insisted on sleeping at his friend’s house but Amy explained that she wasn’t breaking up with him, only taking some time and that their apartment is big enough to fit both of them. Because she felt awful she decided to take the coach giving Damien their bed for himself. “You know, as a gentleman I problably should decline and take the coach but as me, I think I pretty much deserved the bed,” he laughed. She was relieved he didn’t hate her. She still had an important decision to make but at least she was honest about it. With relatively clear mind she went to sleep.
Damien lied on the bed unable to sleep. One of his nightmares turned into reality. At least she told me. Not like Alana. He sighed. He loved Amy and he wanted her to be happy. It hurt him it wasn’t him who could give her that happiness. He was nervous. He didn’t want to lose her but acknowledged the fact that her love to Chris must have been very strong. And that the love may actually win. If she’s so confused that can only mean she never stopped loving him. And if he does love her back she would be happy. He sat down in the bed. He looked at his laptop. Dare he do this? Is this the right thing? He just wants her to be happy. And he realized no matter with who it would be. A single tear rolled down his cheek when the realization hit him. He was ready to confront Chris just to make her happy. And even as my best friend I want her in my life. He quickly typed some words into his computer and after few minutes had all the crucial information. He was going to talk to coach Christopher Powell. He just can’t see her so broken. Damien turned off the laptop and put his earphones in. He chose a random playlist made by Amy and started falling asleep. The song played and he recognized the words:
“I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met”
He quickly changed the playlist into something more rock. He didn’t really want to cry into his beer by listening to some sad songs.
He woke up at five o’clock. Although the flight to Maine takes only hour and a half, or five hours of he wanted to drive, he wanted to be there as soon as possible. It’s not healthy, neither for him, nor for her to be kept in uncertainty. Quickly he wrote a note for her that he’d be out of town for a while. As quietly as he could possibly be, he left the apartment and drove to the airport.
Chris had a hard time. One, he met his love again. Two, she said she had a boyfriend. Three, he realized he still loved her. Four, he decided to tell her all about it. And five, he chickened out again and flew home without telling her anything. Congratulations Chris, you should’ve won some award for the biggest idiot on Earth. He was pacing back and forth in his house feeling antsy. He thought of calling her but realized it was stupid. No, she said we’re friends. It’s over. Oh boy, I’m so pathetic. He went to his bedroom and took his old photo album. Everyone always laughed at him when he was printing the photos and putting them into the album, like old people, but he actually enjoyed having them on paper. He found the first photos of him and Amy, their friends, photos from different parties, championships. Everything was easier then. He sighed and put the album back to the drawer. Next to the album, in the right corner, was the engagament ring he bought for Amy so many years ago and never had a chance to give it to her. He looked at it sadly and closed the drawer. It all belonged to the past. They’re in different places now. And maybe it was supposed to be that way.
“Powell! Open the door! I know you’re there! Open them or I’ll kick them down!” Damien yelled banging the door with his fist. He’s just arrived at Chris’s house and decided to announce himself by waking up the whole neighborhood. “What the hell? Damien? What on Earth are you doing here?” Chris opened the door, clearly shocked. “Oh, you opened. Good.” Damien smoothed his jacket. “Is Amy okay?” Chris asked concerned. “What? Yes, of course she is. But we need to talk.” And without any invitation he entered Chris’s house.
Amy tried to call Damien many times after she found the note. Did he leave me? I wouldn’t blame him if he did though. After Damien didn’t answer for the tenth time, Amy decided it’s time to finally work on her novel. Indescribable. Her first own novel. The only one she wrote all by herself. She was nearly finished with it, only two more chapters to go. She wanted to give the readers some sort of closure, what happened to the characters afterwards. They landed safely in New York and two best friends started dating. And then? And then, everything fucked up.
“I still don’t know what you’re doing here. Did Amy send you? What’s going on?” Chris stood in his living room while Damien found a comforable spot on Chris’s couch and sat down. “I came here to talk. Didn’t you hear when I said that?” Damien shook his head. “I did, I’m not sure I know if there’s anything we should talk about.” Chris crossed his arms and sat on a chair, keeping a distance from the intruder. “We need to talk Powell. About Amy. And you. About both of you actually.” Damien sighed. “I’ve checked. You’re not married, not divorced. No kids, stable job, good relations with family and friends--” What the hell? Did you investigate my life?! Does Amy know?” Chris was furious. Who was he and what did he want? “Calm down Powell, I did what I had to, she wouldn’t tell me anything.” “So? Why all this inquiry?” Chris asked.
Damien took a deep breath and started, “Look, I don’t know you and Amy never said a word about you until two days ago. But I know Amy and I know you guys have past. So my question is, do you still love her? Do you want to be with her? Is that why you came to New York?” “I-I--” Chris stuttered. What was he supposed to say? Yes, I’m love with your girlfriend? Yes, I wish you weren’t dating? What if he was a dangerous psychopath? How do you even talk to a psychopath? What if he burns my house like Beau burned that empty house? What if--
“No offence Powell, but I didn’t ask you for the date of the Civil War or the year of Hemingway’s Nobel Prize. I simply asked if you love her, is that hard to answer?” Damien looked at Chris, clearly annoyed. Yup, that guy is definitely a psychopath. “I’m not sure what do you want me to say?” Chris said quietly. “The truth, preferably. Listen, I love Amy, okay? And all I want for her is to be happy. Whether with me or not.” Damien felt something painful in his throat but went on, “She told me about your meeting, she told me you came to our apartment. I think I know what you wanted to say. And I know she feels something for you too. She told me that too. She’s confused and I want to make it clear. Do you love her?” Chris looked at Damien in disbelief but nodded. “I do. I never stopped actually. But I didn’t want to come between you two. I care about her happiness too.” Damien stood up and came closer to the book shelf. He needed a moment before speaking so that no one could see the water is his eyes. “I want you to tell her, you know, that you love her. She should know. She deserves to know.” “What about you? What if she wants to be with me, would you accept that?” Chris asked carefully. Damien wiped his eye, “As I said, her happiness is my greatest priority.”
After five hours of typing furiously the words she finally had both of her chapters finished. Finally! And it didn’t even take me that long. She read the ending to herself several times but she was happy with it. The writing helped to clear her mind. Amy decided to use the old-fashioned method her mom taught her when making decisions— list of pros and cons. Having everything on paper always gave her a sense of clarity. But the moment she wrote one of the two names she knew everything. She didn’t need any list. She knew what was right. What she wanted. And she decided to go for it. To fight for her fairytale. This time she needed to fight.
Damien left Chris’s house an hour later. Both men talked a lot about Amy and decided it would be the best if Chris came to New York with Damien. Damien thought a simple call would do the thing but Chris insisted on flying. “You can’t say all of that in a phone call! It needs to be a real conversation, eye to eye.” They were lucky as the flights were frequent and they didn’t have to wait too long. Damien was also relieved when he realized he didn’t have to sit next to Chris. He had nothing against him (except the part where Chris loves his girlfriend and goes to New York to tell her that and be with her) but he would rather sit with his thoughts only. In the meantime Chris was stressed as never. He didn’t know what to say, how to say it. He was scared of her reaction, and he still wasn’t fully aware of what just happened. But he did get it, Damien cared about Amy and he wanted her to be happy. He felt anxious and excited when he heard Amy felt something for him. It was like his wildest dreams came into reality. His precious Amy. He loved her so much. Even though he didn’t really like Damien, he was grateful for him to tell Chris everything. Now he saw a real chance. No more running away. Never.
Amy was just making a fifth cup of coffee when she heard Damien coming to their apartment. She left her mug on the counter and ran to the door standing face to face with her boyfriend. “Where were you? I was worried!” She exclaimed. “I wrote you a note, didn’t you get it?” “I did, and I also did call you many times. I understand why you’re avoiding me but a short message that you’re fine would be--” “I’m not avoiding you” Damien interrupted her. “But there’s someone you need to talk to first.” She took a step back. “But--” “Amy.” He looked at her. “I love you. Remember that. But you need to confront your past and your thoughts. You deserve to be happy.” Her phone buzzed. The text was from Chris. “Can we meet up in that cafe? It’s important.” She looked at Damien. He was already pouring some whiskey. She was torn. She wanted to talk to Damien but also needed to talk with Chris. Ugh why my life likes to be that complicated. “Listen, I’ll be back soon, so please wait for me okay?” Amy asked Damien while putting on her shoes. “Sure.” When she left the apartment, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
“Wait, wait, Damien came there, to Maine for you?!” “Well, yes, but Amy, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Please listen to me. It’s important.” He pleaded. Amy sat down, still shocked and turned her face towards him. “Amy...yesterday, when I came into your apartment I didn’t come to wish you happy birthday. I wanted to say how much I still love you. And how much I wish I told you that sooner.” She inhaled sharply. Is she dreaming? Is he saying that for real? She was lost in thought when Chris was talking about his graduation plans, when he mentioned the proposal she had tears in her eyes. She listened to him and the more she heard the more she knew. When he was finishing his speech she smiled through her tears. She wanted to laugh, to cry, everything at once. It was a weird feeling, but a good one. Relief washed over her face when he spoke, “So Amy, do I have a chance? Do you, maybe, feel something to me too?” Tears springing in her eyes. This is it, that moment. It’s now.
It was already after 11 when Damien heard someone coming into the apartment. He stood up and saw Amy taking off her shoes. Her make-up was all over her face but she had a big smile on it. She found his eyes already staring at hers and she smiled warmly at him. “You look like a panda.” He broke the silence. Amy frowned and bursted into laughter. “Oh my gosh Damien!” “I actually didn’t really expect you here. Do you need a hand in packing?” he asked. Amy came a little bit closer to him. “Damien...” she started, “you have every right to hate me but I need to--” “ I don’t hate you.” he broke in. “But I need to,” she continued, “tell you that--” “Amy. I get it. Really, I’m fine. You will be happy with Chris and I’m happy for you. I really am.” “Damien! Can I say something finally?” “I don’t think you have to say any--” “I WANT TO BE WITH YOU DAMIEN ANNOYING ASS NAZARIO. STOP INTERRUPTING ME AND PLEASE LET ME TALK OR I’LL GAG YOU” she yelled. Wait, what? He turned back to her, “What?” “Oh so now you listen. From now on I’ll just yell if I want something.” She chuckled. He grabbed her wrist and looked her in the eyes. “What did you say?” She rolled her eyes. “I said: I want to be with you. Of course, if you’ll still have me. I know that after everything I did and said I might not deserve you anymore but I do love you and I want to be with you. To give you my 100%. Cause I know you’re the one I want. It’s always been you.” Damien blinked a couple of times. “But what about--” She shook her head. “I realized it was you long before he came here. I think I actually knew it from the start. But this whole situation only proved my point.” She looked him in the eyes. “I told Chris that he will always have a special place in my heart but...you are the one I want to spend my life with. If you still want to” she added quietly.
“Chris I don’t know what to say. I was confused when I saw you again after all these years. And you’ll always have a place in my heart, you were my first true love. But I realized it’s Damien I want. It’s always been him. I’m sorry if I ever puzzled you. It was never my intention. I want you to be happy but I’m sorry to say it won’t be with me. You’re an amazing person, I’m sure you’ll find someone who will love you with all they have.” Chris thought for a moment. “I undestand. Damien’s a good guy, he deserves you.” “Chris...” “I’m good! Well, not really. Not yet. But I will be. You’re happy and that’s all that matters. Maybe it’s time for me to move on too.”
She closed her eyes waiting for him to reply. If he says no, she’ll understand. When after a minute he still didn’t answer she opened her eyes and looked at him. For the first time since they met she saw real tears in his eyes. “Are you sure?” he rasped. She let out a relieved breath. “Of course I am. I was never more sure about anything.” Before he could open his mouth she added “I’m so sorry. For the mess I’ve made. I thought I was confused, I thought I had only questions but I couldn’t see I had the answer right in front of me.” He didn’t say anything. Damien instantly swept her up in his arms and pulled her in the most passionate kiss they’ve ever shared. His tears mixed with hers, her black mascara staining his cheeks. When they pulled away breathless, he leaned his forehead on hers. “So, are you forgiving me?” she asked. He chuckled. “I thought it was obvious. I might prove it to you in another way” Damien said kissing her jawline and carrying her to their bedroom.
“Maybe we could talk from time to time? You know, so that we actually communicate instead of waiting another eight years to talk.” Chris asked. “You got it.” She smiled. They hugged each other and stayed there, in this very position, again a little too long than necessary. Even though they let each other go in friendly relations, the feeling was rather bittersweet. The smell of Chris’s cologne now belonged to past. And this time she was ready to move on.
And when she lay down, in Damien’s strong arms, trying to regain her breath, she was the happiest she’s even been. Her past belonged to Chris. Her present was uncertain until she came into the realization that she already felt deep down in her heart. And she also knew, her future belonged to Damien, to both of them, together. There was no more confusion, no more uncertainty. Just her, Damien, and the future ahead of them.
THE END.
Tagging: @flynnomalleys @mariamatsuo @choices-sideblog @syltti78 @ihearyoucallmyname @the-lovehacker @hellomynameisdeviblaire @hearteyes-em @vnessafer2016 @thatspicegirlssong @emerald-bijou @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid @kickbuttbookworm @damienazariostan ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
#perfect match#perfect match fanfiction#perfect match fanfic#damien nazario#damien x mc#the freshman#the sophomore#the junior#tf/ts/tj#chris powell#chris x mc#the junior fanfiction#the junior fanfic#playchoices#choices stories you play#choices fanfic#long post#i feel a little bit bittersweet#last part
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
retro ad principium
originally posted on ao3 but ya know why not
DESCRIPTION: Evan wasn’t sure how to feel. Everything was falling apart. Jared hated him. Alana hated him. The Murphy’s hated him. Even his mom hated him.
[or he has a second chance to make things right. maybe this time he won't mess up and he'll step straight into the sun]
TW: mentions of suicide, semi-vague descriptions of overdose
PAIRING: potential (very likely) eventual treebros
Evan wasn’t sure how to feel.
Everything was falling apart. Jared hated him. Alana hated him. The Murphy’s hated him. Even his mom hated him.
That last one hurt the most. He had always figured his mom would be on his side, no matter what. Granted he never factored in the possibility of him pretending to be friends with someone who killed himself.
God, she had every reason to hate him. They all did. He fucked up, big time. He should have never let Connor run off with that note. He shouldn’t have lied to the Murphy’s, he should have just told them the truth. He should have climbed higher.
He brought the sleeve of his sweater up to his face to wipe away the tears. He was crying, but not sobbing. He wasn’t sure how. He felt like he needed to, or at least wanted to. That was the appropriate response to this, but something was holding him back. Something was telling him it’s okay to not cry.
Something was telling him he just felt empty. Which, wasn’t a lie. He did feel empty. He had for a while, long before the whole Connor Project situation. Maybe this was his default setting, and anything else was just a side effect of the situation. That made sense. It explained why he couldn’t cry like he wanted to.
Evan glanced at his phone. He had turned it off early in the night after an attempt at apologizing to Jared went south. He didn’t know why he thought it’d go any differently.
You fucked up. You used him. You used everyone. And for what? A life that wasn’t yours. You don’t deserve friends. You should be alone. You should-.
Evan frowned. His thoughts often ran off like that, taking over his mind. Normally he wasn’t able to pull himself out of it so easily. He was usually forced to the backseat, watching as the world passed by around him.
He picked at his cast. His new cast. One he got after a not so friendly shove from someone ended with a tumble down the stairs at school. Connor’s name was no longer staring up at him but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t forget it. The phantom letters only he saw were nice reminder of how he ruined everyone around him. His relationship with his mom. His already barely-there friendship with Jared. His chances with having a normal relationship with Zoe and her family. Hell, wasn’t the whole situation his fault? If he hadn’t written that damn letter than Connor might not have…
You’re right you know. Connor’s dead because of you. It should have been you. He had so much to live for. You? You’re pathetic. You ruined a family. Gave them false hope about their son and then tore it all away.
Evan curled in on himself, clutching his head.
What did you think was going to happen? Did you think they’d forgive you? You’re a monster. No one is going to forgive you.
He couldn’t breathe. Tears were finally blurring his vision, but Evan didn’t want them anymore. He wanted them to stop. He wanted to breathe. He wanted everything to go away. He reached towards his bedside table, blindly feeling around for the bottle of Xanax. It was his emergency bottle in case something like this happened.
He swallowed the pill without any water. It wasn’t easy. He always had trouble taking his medication, the panic attack not helping.
Evan curled on the bed holding his arm to his chest. Sobs shook his body. He tried counting his breathing but it wasn’t helping. The Xanax wasn’t working. Everything was still too much. His chest hurt. He was still gasping for air. It was too much. Too much. Too much. Too much.
You know how to fix it, Evan.
Knowing how to fix it and wanting to fix it were two different things, but at this point he would give anything for the pressure to go away.
Evan looked at the bottle of pills still on open and spilling onto his bed. How much would it take to kill him? It couldn’t be too much.
He stood up. He had to lean against his wall for support, but he managed to make it to his desk. Lying, face up, was the letter that started this all. He turned it over. If he was going to do this, he might as well make it poetic. Evan picked up a pen and started to write.
Dear Connor Murphy,
Today’s going to be a good day and here’s why: because today it’s over. The Connor Project. The lies. Everything.
It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? A letter started this mess and a letter is going to end it.
I never meant for it to goes this far. I never meant for you to see that letter, I never meant for you to take your own life, I never meant to lie about it. But sometimes things happen. If I could, I’d take it all back. Not just the Connor Project, but the letters, and the broken arm. I think about that a lot. What if I climbed higher? What if I jumped forward rather than let go? The branches wouldn’t have slowed my fall. I would have hit the ground harder. It might have been enough.
Words fail. They cannot express how much I regret everything. I regret using you. I regret lying to your family. I regret thinking that I could have a normal life. Nothing about me is normal. Nothing about me will ever been normal. That’s why I have to do this. I’m giving my mom a better chance at life. I’m taking the eyes away from your family.
What’s the afterlife like? I’ll be joining you soon enough. Maybe we can be friends, actual friends. No pretending. No made up afternoons. Just, the two of us. That sounds nice.
Sincerely,
me
Evan dropped the pen. His hands were shaking but he felt oddly calm. It was like there was someone watching over him, telling him everything was going to be okay.
He wasn’t certain, but he had a feeling he knew who it was.
Evan hobbled back over to his bed. He grabbed the bottle and counted. There were fifteen pills. He frowned. He wasn’t sure how much would cause an overdose, he wanted to be certain this would work. What if the fifteen wasn’t enough? What if he just ended up in the hospital a bigger disappointment than he already was? He had more meds somewhere. Ones that didn’t work out. Sertraline. Evan couldn’t remember where he had put them. In his dresser?
He kept a tight hold on the Xanax bottle as he made his way across the room, like he was afraid it would disappear if he let go. There, in the top drawer of his dresser, was the half-empty bottle of Sertraline. He was only on it for a few months before they all agreed it wasn’t working. He was supposed to finish it off before switching to his new prescription but found himself unable to. It was as though he was worried something like this would happen and he’d need the medication again.
Evan’s eyes were drawn to pile of shirts he knew was hiding a bottle of whiskey. Jared had brought it over sometime junior year and never took it back. Evan looked at the Sertraline prescription. The label read “don’t take with alcohol”. Evan moved the shirts and grabbed the bottle.
He didn’t get back on his bed. He sat on the floor leaning against the foot of the mattress. In front of him were both bottles of pills and the whiskey. Evan didn’t know if it would be enough, but it’s all he had in his room. He wanted to stay in here. Just in case his mom came home early. Just in case she decided to check on him.
She wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his hopes up.
Sometime between leaving his dresser and sitting on the floor he had locked the door. It wasn’t anything new. He had been doing that a lot lately. Locking himself in. No one had to see the mess that he was that way. He stared at the blank cast as he picked up the first pills.
“Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be a good day and here’s why: because today you’re making amends.” He started with the Sertraline. “You’re letting them go. All of them.” He put two of the pills in his mouth and washed them down with the whiskey. “Your mom can focus on her classes, no longer having to worry about the disappointment you’ve become.” Two more. “Jared doesn’t have to lie for his car insurance anymore.” Three. “Alana can finally drop the Connor Project.” He finished the Sertraline. His throat burned and his vision was fuzzy. “The Murphys can tell the truth. They can let the whole world know about how badly you fucked up.” He felt oddly calm. He took two of the Xanax. “Connor can finally be remembered for who he was and not who you made him out to be.” He was out of Xanax. When did that happen? “When you’re falling in a forest and nobody’s around, you don’t need to make a sound. You don’t deserve to be found.”
Evan wished he had some water. His throat was burning. Everything was hurting. Maybe this was a mistake. He shouldn’t have done something so stupid. He was leaving his mom alone. Who would watch after her? Who would make sure she takes care of herself?
She’ll find someone. Without you dragging her down she might finally start dating again.
Ah. Something that made sense. She had always been so focused on Evan that she never got a chance to do things for herself. She deserved this opportunity.
“Damn Evan. You really did it.”
He blinked up at the voice. How long had he been lying on the ground?
“Wha-?”
Connor Murphy was staring down at him. He didn’t look like the Connor his mind had created back when the You Will Be Found speech went online, the best friend who climbed trees in abandoned fields and got ice cream at À La Mode. He looked like a broken Connor. Like the real Connor.
“You’re an idiot. I hope you know that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Connor crouched down and put his hands on Evan’s face. Evan felt himself moving as Connor turned his head side to side inspecting Evan. “No you’re not. You had everything you ever wanted and you threw it away. You’re not sorry for anyone but yourself.” Connor let go and stood up. Evan reached for him but Connor turned away. Evan would only watch as Connor picked the letter up from his desk. “Did you really write your note to me? I’m dead. Not gonna be around to read it.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice.
“I… I couldn’t, not to them. You were the only one,” Evan started coughing.
“I get it. You fucked up your relationship with everyone else. I was the next best thing. Relax. Take a chill pill or something.” Connor’s face twisted into something unrecognizable. Evan didn’t like it. “Oh wait. You already did that.”
Evan felt tired. Connor looked bored by his lack of reactions but what could he do?
“Hurts.”
Connor sighed and sat next to Evan. “Of course it does. Haven’t you ever read about overdosing? It’s the worst pain you can go through. Your body starts shutting down. Breathing becomes increasingly difficult, your body heats up in an effort to save itself. There’s paranoia, hallucinations... Though I think you know that. How else would I? I’m a figment of your dying brains imagination. Your hallucination.”
Evan’s stomach was lurching. He felt sick.
Connor laid his hand on Evan’s forehead. He felt cold. It was a nice feeling, Evan leaned into the touch.
“Just close your eyes, Evan.”
For once, Evan listened.
#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#dear evan hansen#dear evan hansen fanfic#retro ad principium#jkupchurch#jkwriter#evan hansen#connor murphy
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
No Longer A Secret (Part 5)
Multiple Part Fiction
Characters: Team x Reader
A/N: On the way to find the cure, they have a boat.
Previous Parts
Master List
“I thought vampires never sleep..” JJ says as she looks over at you.
“We don’t..” You say opening your eyes to look at her. “But we do like to rest with our eyes closed.”
“Are we almost there?” Spencer calls from the back of the boat.
“Just a few more miles!” Cara calls from inside. You sit up on the floor of the boat and run a hand through your hair.
“So how did you manage to get this much time off for the whole team?” You ask Emily.
“Heavily convinced Cruz that they worked hard over the last few weeks with files and cases that they deserved time off.” Emily says as she sips her coffee.
“Is that coffee even good?” You ask.
“Not really.. But I need something to keep me awake.” She says taking another drink. You smile and lean against the edge of the boat.
“Thank you for coming all the way out here to help me.” You say.
“I’d do anything to help you.” Emily says giving you a smile. “Anything to give you your life back.. And to have you back on the team.”
“I’ve missed you guys a lot. It’s been hard living so far away and not being able to talk all the time.”
“We’ve talked a lot.” Emily says as she stands next to you.
“Oh how could I forget those?” You say sarcastically.
“I’m sorry, but I was generally worried about you.”
“You sound like my mother.” You say rolling her eyes. “But then again, I hardly knew my mother considering she died when I was six...”
“LAND HO!” Cara calls from the steering. “I see the island!” You run to the front of the boat only to find that Cara was right. Not far off you could the lining of the island. Within twenty minutes you had reached the island. The boat coming to a stop by a dock.
You were the first off the boat and onto the island. “Please be careful!” JJ calls behind you. “We don’t need to lose a life. Yours in particular.” She says as she catches up with you.
“Alana, where exactly is this cure located?”
“It’s supposed to be hidden in a cave in the center of the island.” Alana says as she pulls out a map. It was worn and yellow from centuries of aging. “This is the original map that The Original made after he hid the cure on this island.”
“You better be right.” Rossi says. “This trip better have been worth it.”
Opening the map she lays in on the ground. Muttering a chant on her breath, the map begins to illuminate. It starts to get brighter until you couldn’t see anything. Suddenly the light disappeared and the island came to life off the map. A red arrow appeared pointing down.
“Alright, so. This red arrow is where we are at.” Alana explains.
“And the cave?” Spencer asks.
“Right smack dap in the middle right where that green dot is.”
“This is too cool.” You say getting a closer look at the map.
“So if this is us..” JJ says. “And this is where the cure is supposedly..” She looks towards the jungle. “We would have to go that way.” She says extending her arm out in front of her. “Right?”
“You would be right, Jennifer.” Alana says she starts heading for the jungle and everyone following behind her. “I will lead. I’ll be able to put a protection barrier around everyone to prevent any injuries.. Or death..”
“That makes me feel so much better..” Emily mutters as she follows after everyone.
Trudging through the thicket you glance up ahead of you. The map still in its hologram in Alana’s hand as she leads you and the team in the direction of the map. Looking behind you, you notice something crawling through the leaves. Seeing green glowing eyes peek out from behind a bush you could the hairs on your bodies begin to rise. Before you had time to react you see a black panther leap up from the ground and straight for you. It soon hit some invisible barrier just as you threw your arms up in front of you thinking that your arms would be able to protect you from its claws and sharp teeth. You fall to the ground on your bottom, Emily instantly rushing to your side.
“I said I was putting up a protection barrier, didn’t I?” Alana said as she turned around to look back at you.
“Are you okay?” Emily asks as she helps you stand up.
“Yeah.. I’m fine..” You say brushing off the dirt from your clothes and straightening out your shirt. Emily loops her arm around yours as you both meet up with the rest of the group.
“How much further?” Spencer asks.
“Just a couple more miles, it won’t take long.” Alana says as she keeps walking.
“It’s getting kind of chilly out here.” JJ said as she tightens her jacket around her body.
“I’m getting tired..” You say as you rest your head on Emily’s shoulder.
“Vampires don’t get tired..” Alana says.
“Well I’m getting tired..” You snap back.
“You shouldn’t be tired considering we haven’t cured you yet.” Your arm slips out from around Emily’s as your legs give out sending you to the ground.
“(Y/N)!” Emily exclaims as she falls down to her knees beside you. “She’s not breathing.” She says looking up at Alana. “What’s going on?”
“Her skin..” JJ says picking up one your hands.
“We have to get her to the cave now.” Rossi says.
“I got her.” Luke says as he picks you up from the ground.
Reaching the entrance of the cave, Luke stops to lay you down by the entrance. “I can take her in with me and find the cure.” Alana says. “We need to get in her as soon as we can. We’re running out of time.”
“What’s happening to her?” Emily asks.
“I managed to reach the others back in Chicago.” Alana says. “Catherine managed to free herself-”
“She didn’t escape, did she?” Spencer says.
“Worse than that..” Alana says. “She killed herself..”
“What?” Emily said standing up. “How?”
“She broke a door and used part of it to stab herself in her heart.”
“Which means?”
“Which means, that the vampire who turned you dies than you would in turn die as well.” Alana says as she closes the map and folds it back to fit in her pocket. “Which is why we need to get the cure into (Y/N)’s system before something worse happens.”
Luke jumps up from the ground and picks you back up. “Where this damn cure?” He says.
“Follow me..” She says stepping into the cave.
“We’ll just wait out here.” JJ calls after them.
Pacing back and forth, Emily bites on her nails as she lays on the floor. She punches the nearest tree ignoring the pain that shot through her hand. She turns around holding her hand finding everyone looking at her. “Are you okay?” JJ says as she rushes over. “Why would you do that?” Emily pulls her hand away.
“If I never would have gotten myself trapped under Catherine’s compulsion, I never would have put (Y/N) under such danger and this never would’ve happened... I’m the one that her into this.. And now she’s in there dying...”
“Emily, you can’t blame yourself for this.” JJ says. “Catherine choose to kill herself resulting in (Y/N) dying.”
“But she wouldn’t be dying if I take her to a trap...”
“This isn’t your fault...” You say. They turn around to see you walking, well, more like staggering out of the cave. Luke making sure to help hold you up. “I made you take me to Catherine and Catherine took the opportunity when I was at my weakest...” You walk over to Emily wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.” You whisper into her ear.
“But I-”
“I know, Emily.. But Catherine got me into this mess and you helped get me out.” You said pulling away from Emily.
“How about we get off this island and go back home?” Spencer says.
Arriving back on the east coast, you climb down to the dock and go to the very end. Taking off your socks and shoes and slipping off your jeans you jump off the dock diving into the water. You come up to the surface to see the team standing at the edge of the docks. Worried looks on their faces. “Hey, I can finally swim without getting irritated!” You say smiling.
“It’s freezing out here!” JJ says. “You’re gonna get sick.”
“At least then we’ll know that I’m human.” You say swimming back over to the dock. You grab onto the edge when you feel something grab your ankle pulling you back under.
“(Y/N)!” Emily shouts as she tries to jump. Luke holds her back.
“You’re the last person that should be jumping in.” He says before pulling off his socks and shoes and jumping in after you.
You struggled to free yourself from whoever or whatever had their hold on you. You were losing air, your lungs burning in your chest as the air escaped. Opening your eyes and looking below you, you see a man. Red eyes just like Catherine. He pulls you deeper down in the water. Suddenly you feel a second pair of hands grab you around your shoulders and kick the man off of you. Reaching the surface you gasp for air and looking around you see Luke still holding onto you.
“Are you okay?” He asks as he lifts you up onto the dock. You nod your head as Cara rushes over with a towel to wrap around you. “Who was that?” You look at Luke. Fear clouding your eyes.
“I’ve seen him before..” You say. “I know who he was..”
“I know exactly who that was..” Alana says. “I could see him through the water...” You turn around to look at her. She has her arms crossed over her chest. “He was The Original..”
“Oh great..” Spencer mutters as he rubs his temples.
“He knows we took the cure. He knows you’re human again.”
“So what does this mean?” Emily asks as she turns to look at Alana.
“It means he wants her dead or alive. Anything to get that cure back.”
“He can just take it?”
“Well if he isn’t pissed, he’ll go on easy her. Take a vial of her blood and hide it again.” She says. “Or if he’s beyond pissed than he’ll kidnap her and drain her of her blood. Can’t be too sure about what he’ll do.”
You turn back to face the water and hang your head. Cara wraps her arms around you and rests her head against your back. “We’ll do whatever we can to protect you, okay?” She says lifting her head to look at her. “You’re my best friend and practically my sister. We grew up together through the thick and the thin and there is no way in hell that I am going to nearly lose you again because of some pathetic loser.”
You stand up on the dock and push through the group and head back into the boat. Locking yourself in the lower level you toss the towel onto the bed and sit on the floor leaning against the bed. A knock comes on the door. “Go away..” You call out.
“Can we please talk?” Emily’s voice sounds through the door.
“Just leave me alone..” You hear the lock turn and Emily peers her head in. You roll your eyes knowing that Cara told her where to find the key. Emily sits down on the floor next to you.
“If we can defeat Catherine, we can defeat the Original.” Emily says. “None of us are going to leave you behind.”
“I never should’ve gotten involved with this shit..” You standing up. “If I never went to the cemetery, then Catherine never would have come back to life, I wouldn’t have been turned, or nearly died because Catherine killed herself, now I’m a human again and The Original is after me to get the cure dead or alive.”
“You didn’t know that any of this was going to happen.” Emily says as she stands up. “You did what anyone would have done. You wanted to know your family and instead you got what you wanted, just a little more than what you wanted.”
“What do I do, Emily? I don’t want to run again. I just got my life back.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll be right there with you.”
“And leave the BAU? Again?”
“Well... Not necessarily...” Emily says. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”
“Emily, my life is in danger again, and if I die this time, I’m never coming back.”
“We won’t let that happen!” Emily exclaims.
“And could you possibly know?” You say leaning against the wall. “You have no idea what can happen.”
“Well it can’t hurt to try.” Emily says. “Why are pushing us away?”
“Because I don’t want anyone to get hurt!”
“Have you met us?” Emily says hitting her thighs. “We’ve through countless trouble. Hello, I almost died myself because of Doyle.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “And JJ was kidnapped and tortured by Askari.” Sighing you turn your back to her. “And Hotch? He lost his wife because of Foyette and nearly lost his son because of Scratch.” You look down at the floor. You knew all that. “And Derek? You remember when he was kidnapped? It was hard him and it was hard on all of us.. And Spencer? Going to jail because he was accused of murdering Nadia Ramos?” You clenched your jaw. That was the hardest on everyone including Spencer. “And what about-”
“I get it.” You say turning around.
“So if you get it, then quit pushing us away.. Quit pushing me away.”
A knock comes on the door and JJ peers her head in. “Flight leaves in a couple of hours to Chicago. We should probably get you there.” She says looking at you.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” You say.
“I’ll tell the others.” She says before leaving. Emily tosses you a pair of cleans pants before she leaves the room herself.
Took me long enough. I was supposed to have it up earlier today but my parents had other plans today.
If you liked this than please be sure to leave some love!
Thank you! :)
#criminal minds#criminal minds au#team x reader#reader insert#vampires#myths#legends#emily prentiss#paget brewster#jennifer jareau#aj cook#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#david rossi#joe mantegna#penelope garcia#kirsten vangsness#tara lewis#aisha tyler#luke alvez#Adam Rodriguez
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Cannot Play Pretend
A/N: An anon request for a Spencer x Reader song fic based off Speeding Cars by Walking on Cars. Reid and the Reader are having a romantic, but not sexual affair. Both are currently in other relationships. When the reader gets hurt, he comes to terms with his feelings. I’ve included most of the lyrics. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8
-----
So if I stand in front of a speeding car
Would you tell me who you are, what you like?
What's on your mind, if I'd get it right?
How I love that no one knows
And these secrets all that we've got so far
The demons in the dark, lie again
Play pretends like it never ends
This way no one has to know
It was wrong. He knew it was wrong. But he couldn’t stop himself. Y/N had been his childhood best friend. They’d lost touch and now she was here again. How was he supposed to let her go? He couldn’t; he knew it couldn’t, despite how wrong it was for him to have lingering feelings for his childhood friend when he was in a relationship.
S: How are you this morning?
Y/N: Good, love. How are you?
S: I’m good, just...this is wrong.
Y/N: I know. But I don’t know how to stop. I’ve missed you all these years.
S: I’ve missed you too. So much. But we’re both with someone else. Shouldn’t we choose what we want and either remain friends or not? I just feel so awful. Alana isn’t a bad person. I just don’t love her.
Y/N: It’s the same with Brian. He’s sweet, but he’s not you.
His heart jumped happily in his chest at her words. But he was immediately brought down by that exact happiness.
This had been how their conversations had been going for weeks, playing around the idea of lost love and a mutual future, but their desires to not hurt the ones they were dating kept them from making the decisions they knew they needed to make.
Neither Brian nor Alana knew that there was something going on, and there was definitely something, but Spencer couldn’t figure out which was worse, physically cheating or emotionally cheating, because he was definitely doing the latter, and there were no brakes to stop him.
Even the half smile would have slowed down the time
If I could call you half mine
Maybe this is the safest way to go
We're singing
Heya heya heya heya
This is the safest way to go nobody gets hurt
We're singing
Heya heya heya heya
You go back to him and then I'll go back to her
Over and over again, Spencer and Y/N contemplated whether or not to keep their affair quiet and exactly how it was, a fantasy to escape into rather than a reality, whether to end their affair completely, and despite history cut off ties, but none of it seemed right. Every possible outcome had someone getting hurt, and it was the last thing they both wanted.
S: Remember that time on the playground when we were kids? When Stella Beecher was getting made fun of for her glasses and you stepped in between her and the bullies? That was it. You’d stuck up for me before, but I’d always assumed it was because we were friends, but that day I saw you for the person you were - the kindest person I’d ever known, and still have ever known honestly.
The night before, while Alana and Brian were both asleep, Y/N had asked when he’d fallen for her, because she was pretty sure loving him, in one degree or another, was all she’d ever known. Besides her family, Spencer was the only person in the world she’d ever had that deep of a connection with.
Y/N woke up to the message, which she read with a slight blush and smile, immediately wiping it away when she stared at the empty space beside her in bed. She really did care for Brian; he was a good guy, but there was something inside her telling her that if she didn’t take a chance on happiness with Spencer, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
So if I stand in front of a speeding car
Would you give your little heart?
Say the word?
Due to just me and you
This way everyone will know
Y/N: Spence, it’s been six months of this. I can’t do this to Brian anymore. I don’t love him anymore, but he doesn’t deserve this.
S: I know. I know. I just don’t know what to do.
Since a month or so after they’d reconnected this is how the conversation had gone, but she truly couldn’t keep going like this. On top of it hurting her own heart, it would eventually blow up in Brian’s face and that wasn’t fair to him.
Y/N: I do. I broke up with Brian last night. I told him that I was in love with someone else. He was hurt, obviously, but he gave me a hug and wished me the best. You need to decide now - whether you want to come clean with Alana or not. Either way, I will no longer be with Brian. But if you can’t break things off with Alana...I can’t do this anymore...I love you, Spence.
When he stared down at the message, his heart nearly stopped. She had made a decision; she wanted him, but he didn’t know what to do. The idea of hurting Alana made his heart ache.
S: I need a little time. Will you give me time?
Y/N: Yes. But I won’t wait forever Spence.
S: I wouldn’t expect you to.
After that conversation, nearly two weeks went by with very little interaction between them. Every time he looked at the phone, it was with longing, everything in him screaming to run out of his apartment and toward hers. And when he glanced across the table or to his side in bed, the guilt rose and threatened to swallow him home. What he really wanted? What he really wanted was for he and Y/N to have reconnected at a time when they were both single. But as he combed through the thoughts in his mind, he realized that what he never wished was for them not to have reconnected. He’d missed her so much. When Alana came home today, he would. He had to. He had to try. Or he’d hate himself forever.
“Alana,” he said softly as she walked through the door. “Can I talk to you?”
She nodded, completely unaware of what he was about to say. “Sure.”
“I can’t be with you anymore,” he said. His lip quivered as he spoke, the look in her eyes almost enough to drop him to the floor on the spot.
“Why not?”
Spencer took a deep breath and formed the words he’d been fearing to speak for the last six and a half months. “I’m in love with someone else.”
“You’ve been cheating on me?” She asked angrily, her eyes welling over with tears at the sudden realization.
“Emotionally yes,” he admitted. “I’ve never slept with her. But I am in love with her.”
“I don’t know which one is worse,” she said after a few minutes.
Spencer looked down at the ground and started to cry. He’d been thinking the same for so long. Neither one was better than the other; it was just different. “I’m so sorry, Alana,” he said. “You are a wonderful woman, but I can’t deny how I feel anymore.”
“I understand.” She turned into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before looking around the apartment, her eyes resting on item after item that belonged to Spencer and not her. “I’ll start packing up your things. Do you mind staying in a hotel for a few days? I can’t have you here. It’s too hard.”
“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll leave now. Alana...I’m sorry.”
Picking up his messenger bag and a few necessities he’d need for the next few days, he walked out, closing the door behind him and feeling a peace come over him. Right now, he hated himself for the look in Alana’s eyes - knowing he’d put in there. But Y/N was waiting and he had to give it a chance.
Advertise my secret
I don't really need it
I know you can feel this
So advertise my secret
I don't really need it
I know you can feel this
So advertise my
Advertise my secret
For the next few days, Spencer tried calling Y/N to no avail. Each time her phone rang, it went to voicemail, and every time it did, he wondered whether or not he’d waited too long. It was only after another few days, about a week after he’d broken it off with Alana, that he passed an intersection Y/N frequented and noted a piece of debris in the middle of the street. It belonged to a car that looked very much like hers, so he asked around the local shops if they knew what had happened. That’s when he heard. “There was a head-on collision here the other night,” the barista said. “The drunk driver walked away, but the other driver went to the hospital.”
“Do you know who they were? Was it a woman?” he asked.
When the barista nodded, Spencer pulled out his own phone and showed her a picture. “That’s her.”
“Where did they take her?”
The barista had barely gotten the words out of her mouth when Spencer sprinted in her direction, hoping that he wasn’t too late.
-----
“My name is Spencer Reid. I’m here for Y/N Y/L/N. Is she here? Is she okay?” The panic inside him shook his voice. The nurse could barely understand him, but once she had, she led him to her room.
“She was very lucky. She’s got a lot of broken bones. She had some internal bleeding, but she’ll eventually walk out of here fully recovered. I’ll leave you two for a moment.”
As the nurse departed, the tears fell from his eyes and onto his hands as he stretched them out to her. She was asleep, so he sat at her side and hoped she’d wake up soon.
-----
“Spencer, is that you?” she asked. The clock said it was nearly 3 AM.
His head popped up and he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “You’re alive. I was petrified. I...I broke it off with Alana.”
Without another word, he curled himself into her and they both fell asleep once more. Neither could know what the future would bring, but at least now they knew a mutual future was possible.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#dontshootmespence#i cannot play pretend
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Suffocating Love, Cullen x Inquisitor OneShot Part 1!
I am considering making this an actual fanfic buuuuut I might need a little motivation. I’ve had this idea for a little while now but I’m not too sure how it’ll go over here. Let me know!
Thank you for reading <3
****I will put a little warning here for those who get triggered easily by violence and such, I don’t want y’all to be upset or angry with me. Nor do I want you in any type of pain, either.****
••••
Cramped, hot, hungry, exhausted.
“Maker, what did we do to deserve this!?” A woman cries, her arms locked between two templars tight grip. Sweat dripping from her forehead, her neck, and her chest. Her body barely clothed, clothing ripped and tattered from being torn at.
“Shut it or your punishment will be worse than this!” One of them, John was his name.
“We haven’t done a thing! Why are you doing this?!” She screams in horror.
A swift slap to her face by the other one, Eric. “We told you to shut your fucking mouth! We’re in charge here in this lil’ circle and we’ll do what we please!”
And as slow as it happened, the breath was drawn from every mage there. Tears forming in their eyes, watching as the woman who took care of them all was now a vessel of nothingness. She was gone, not physically but in every other aspect.
Tranquil.
Just like that.
———————
The rest of the night was filled with silence. The air was still, the night colder than the one before, the sky filled with stars and a few clouds that lingered.
“What’re we gonna do now that Leanna is tranquil?” Jinnie, another mage in this circle, asks.
“We do what we always do when we watch one of our own gets taken away to serve the purpose of others, Jinnie, we move on and try to sleep.” Alana replies, coldly laying down in her bedroll.
“It’s not right! We have to do something’ Alana!” Jinnie cries, her hands and body visibly shaking.
“Enough! You’ll be next if ya keep talking like that!” Alana scolds. “Kinleigh, you haven’t said a word since then. You right?”
“She’s not going to speak to anyone, you know Leanna was like her mother. You know what happens when she’s like this, better t’jus sleep.” Jinnie replies, covering herself in her blanket.
Kinleigh sat on the window in the girls “room.” They started out with 10 women in this room and now they’re down to 3. She stared up at the sky, watching the stars fall and watching the clouds move. How she was so jealous of the clouds, they roamed wherever they pleased and whenever they pleased. The sounds of nature played on and on throughout the minutes and hours that passed by. She watched as the only two women left with her slept, while her thoughts kept her awake. This wasn’t new, though. Kinleigh often spent her nights sitting in this very window, her blanket tucked under her, just watching the nights.
What her friends didn’t know, was that a Templar, was visiting her. He had been visiting her once her group starting becoming tranquil. He knew it wasn’t right, the way they were ordered to treat them. He often brought her pieces of leftovers from dinner since the other templars would take more than half of the food. The mages were starving, if that’s what you’d call it. Enough energy to work but not enough energy to use their powers. Kinleigh had never felt so out of touch with herself before this Maker forsaken place. He was sweet, kind, and had a beautiful smile. He had told her things that nobody else knew and they were the best of friends.
Tonight?
He didn’t come.
He hasn’t come in weeks.
The empty feeling in Kinleighs chest deepened, creating an even bigger sinkhole in her heart. It felt like Andraste had left her. It felt like the whole world had left her now that the closest thing to a mother she had was now gone. Sure, she was physically here but she would never feel again. Ever again. Forever a slave to whomever takes her in.
She remembered what it was like the first time he came to her window. The first time his fingertips touched her skin. Kinleigh reminisced about her time with the young man. She remembered his warm eyes, his gentle touch, and his strong arms. He was so brave, bringing her food in the night. He’d always bring a little extra for her roommates, too because he didn’t want them to starve. She used to tell them she’d sneak out to get it but stopped because she “almost got caught.”
She remembered Leanna’s laugh, her smile. She was bright like the sun, she was warm like a new fire in the fireplace, and her heart was the size of a caravan. Leanna had nursed Kinleigh to health after being thrown into the circle, nearly skin and bones when she was found. She remembered what it was like having a mother’s embrace, the everlasting peace it came with. How Leanna would play with her hair at night, styling it for her special meetings, how every worry of the day would fade away. It feels like someone has ripped her in half, now.
A tear slid down Kinleighs cheek, she sighed, hoping her brave Templar would save her. Alas, he never showed. She stayed awake all night this time, thinking she missed him the last times. It was wishful thinking but it still hurt, nonetheless.
———————
The next morning was uneventful.
Kinleigh and her fellow mages were being worked to death for yesterdays dealings with Leanna. Some were being used as stools for ale mugs, some used for cooking the food they’d never get to eat, and as for Kinleigh, sewing and washing clothing along with her mates.
Her Templar was constantly on her mind since the day he stopped seeing her. Did he get caught? Did he get sent away? Why wouldn’t he say goodbye?
“You there, come now.” A dark, deep voice bellowed through the room. A man, goes by the name Samson calls to Kinleigh with a sick smile on her face.
Kinleigh slowly makes her way to him and the men he’s with. She stands still with her hands in front of her, tightly clasped, shaking with cold sweat.
“Mhm, she’d make a nice one wouldn’t she?” He laughs, evily.
“Hey sweetheart, maybe you should sew in some extra clothing around your arse! Men like us won’t be so kind to ya if they saw that.” One of the other men speaks, grinning from ear to ear.
“I will do exactly that, ser. Would you happen to have any extra cloth to spare so I shall do so?” She asks, slowly looking up at them.
“Awww, how cute, she wants some cloth! Give’r some cloth Sammy!” A third one laughs.
Samson pulled her into his chest and grips her wrist tightly while the other drags up her tattered skirt. His hand slowly moves up her legs, Kinleigh desperately trying to fight it. “Stop! Stop!” She begs, tears stinging her already swollen eyes from crying the night before. “Please!”
Samson smacks her across the face, the pain from her eyes now radiating across her reddening cheek. “Shut up! No one would ever want to touch an ungrateful girl, you should be happy I want to make you scream, hahaha!”
“Maker! What in the world is going on here?!” A familiar voice echoes throughout the camp.
Kinleigh felt her heart stop and her stomach come right up through her chest and out of her mouth into the pale next to her. She wiped her mouth with her extremely shaky hands, terrified to look up at who just came.
“Samson, latrine duty, now!” He yells, deep from his chest. The deep voice was full of anger towards his recruits. “To hell with the rest of you!”
Kinleigh was stunned to see the man standing in front of her now. He looked different. His muscles tore through his tight shirt, the ties hanging ever so slightly onto his bare, sweat-glistened chest. His skin was darker, like nectar. His hair, curlier, disheveled. His face, full of stubble around his chin, his cheeks, above his rose colored lips, and to his ears.
“Can you stand?” He asks, his honey eyes plead with her to stand as he holds his hand out to her.
“What are you doing? You’ll get killed helping me...” She sobs.
“Did you want me to let him have his way with you?” His voice colder than normal. Something is wrong with him. What did he do? What did they do to him while he was gone?
“I, I’m sorry.” Kinleigh sighs.
Her Templar has returned a different Man. He was no longer hers. His eyes, tired and angry. His beautiful, soft face now replaced with exhaustion and deformed with stress. She tries to look for the man she remembered in his eyes but he turns away. He takes her by the arm and takes her to her room, quickly, before anyone sees him.
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” She cries, reaching out to touch his unshaven face only to be turned away.
“Kinleigh, it’s complicated but I do not have to explain myself to you...” he begins, his words stinging her heart. “I will not be here much longer, I’ve been promoted and will not be seeing you anymore from this day on.”
The last sentence completely tearing the heart right out of Kinleighs chest. It was like her heart had been made of glass the last few weeks and he just threw it onto the ground, shattering every piece.
“Why! Why are you leaving me behind?” She sobs, grabbing his shirt and tugging him. “Please! They took Leanna away last night and I have no one! Please don’t leave!” She begs.
“I know they did, I signed off on the order yesterday afternoon.” He sighs, stress ripping across his brows again.
“You... you what?” She trembles with her grip trying to stay strong on his collar. “YOU ORDERED THIS?!” Her anger slowly prickling into her hands and face.
“I had no choice!” He yells, clearly distressed. “I was under orders!”
He was never this way with her. He was never so angry. He was never such an arse to her. It was like the man she knew was completely gone.
“Please don’t go... if you do I’ll hate you forever.” Kinleigh hisses through her sobs.
“Kinleigh...” her Templar begs.
“No, no! You have a choice! I don’t want to hear it this time! No! If you fucking leave me here to die, I will hate you for the rest of time!” She yells, her anger forcing her magic to radiate through her. Static crackling around her and the man. She was powerful and everyone knew it. So did he.
Her once brave man took her by the face and grasped her roughly, quickly placing a kiss on her lips. His warm, chapped lips, took Kinleigh prisoner. Her static stopping, the cracking silencing, her body completely limp. She found herself lost as his lips took hers over and over and over again. His hands in her hair, her hands taking her nails down his back, their bodies pressed tightly together against the cold stone behind them. Their heavy breathing and raspy voices echoed through the corridors.
He slowly pulled away from her, kissing her lips once more, then her nose, both her cheeks, and then her forehead to end. Tears threatening to fall from his eyes as they were from hers, he whispers “then you’ll have to hate me forever.”
And with that, he was gone.
—————
“Welcome to Haven, m’lady Kinleigh.” A sweet, soft voice wakes her from her slumber.
Kinleigh awoke to a beautiful woman, an elf, with long white hair that resembled snow. She had piercing blue eyes, they reminded her of the river when frozen over. Her ears just only reached outside of her hair, the little points poking through her gorgeous locks.
“Who are you?” Kinleigh asks, sitting up in the bed.
“I am Merana Lavellan, from clan Lavellan.” She smiles sweetly.
“Why am I here? What happened?” She asks, growing more concerned as she notices her surroundings are not the same as they were before.
“We saved you. The cottage you were staying in was being raided and looted. By the time we reached you the little house was consumed with flames. You were the only one we found in there, how do you feel? Better?” She asks.
“Dammit. No one was supposed to find me, but those fucking looters set my house on fire. I’m sorry, Miss Lavellan, I need to get out of here. I’m-“
“We know who you are, love. We’re going to keep you safe and sound. I’ve learned that you are a healer but from your documents that we’ve recovered from the fire, it seems you are quite the mage! I’m so excited! We need you here.” Merana giggles.
“Why do you need me?” She asks, confused.
“Our troops are getting ready to take on the huge rift in the sky with me. Crazy story actually...”
“You’re her! You’re the one everyone has been talking about around town!” Kinleigh interrupts.
“Yeeeeep, that’s me.” She rolls her eyes. “Anywayyyyy, we need you here. Everyone needs some good spirits around here. Our soldiers need tending to and a lot of our residents need tending as well. Although, from mage to fellow mage, I’d love to learn whatever you can show me.”
“I, I’d be honored.” Kinleigh stammers.
“Yay! Let’s get you dressed, our ambassador got some new clothing for you to wear.” Merana claps.
“I’ll meet you in the war room inside the chantry, okay? It’s all the way down the hall way, the big ol’ door in the center at the end, can’t miss it!” She smiles, leaving and closing the door behind her.
What the hell just happened?
Kinleigh runs her fingers over the soft clothing in front of her. Everything felt so much different than what she’s used to wearing. Her old tattered clothing was on the ground as quick as her new ones were on.
Dark, leather pants, as dark as coal with a hint of chestnut in them. They were held together by strong leather lacing in the sides of the legs. A soft, loose, long sleeve shirt was cream colored. There were laces in the front just above her breasts, she quickly tied those together. Dark, hardy, boots stuck to her calves, although they seemed a tad bit tight having them on. Lastly, a dark purple cloak, with a beautiful golden button. The little button had a lion on it, it made her heart skip a beat. It made her think of the man she once knew.
Her golden curls cascades down the left side of her face as she pulled up her hood, making her way out the door.
It was like a new world out there. Snow, everywhere. People, everywhere. Tents, everywhere. There were only a number of cottages here and she was sleeping in one, she was upset at the thought of someone else needing the room more than her. She mentally noted that she’d ask Merana to give her a tent instead.
People obviously stared at Kinleigh, she was an outsider brought in by Merana and her possey. She kept her head up, pulling the sides of her hood to cover more of her face, as she made her way up the stone steps and towards the chantry doors.
She reached the doors and just took everything in. A banner hung proudly from the top of the stone and the wood tresses. The snow covered any greenery or any visible stone on the ground around her. Kinleigh pushed the doors open to be greeted by a long, empty hallway decorated with banners and wooden beams to support the building.
“Door all the way at the end in the center...” she said to herself.
She made her way down the hallway to be met with chantry sisters, spreading the chant of light. It was a nice feeling, hearing the familiar sounds of her once innocent childhood before being captured and thrown into the stupid circle that ruined her.
She knocked on the door to this war room and waited, she was greeted by Merana who’s smile could light up an entire room. Her smile reminded her of her late mother, Leanna. Kinleigh had never seen Leanna after the incident at the circle, seeing Merana helped her heavy heart.
Merana ushered her in, in good spirits. Excitedly introducing her to everyone in the room.
Kinleigh pulled her hood down, as it’d be rude while making introductions. When fixing her hair to move down her back instead of where it was before, she looked up and met eyes with a familiar man but a stranger in her heart. All the hair on her neck and arms stood up, as her emerald eyes met the soft, honey colored eyes from her youth. She was speechless for the first time in her life.
“Annnnd this is Commander Cullen, do you two know each other?” Merana finishes introductions on Cullen after noticing the two, jaws agape at each other.
#cullen x female inquisitor#cullen ruthferford romance#cullen x mage inquisitor#Cullen#Rutherford#cullen rutherford#inqusitor#inquisition#dragonage#dragon#age#dragon age inquisition#romance#love#magic#mage#Lavellan#trevelyan#female trevelyan#female lavellan#circle#tranquil#anger#dragon age fanfic#romance fanfic#Cullen romance
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could I get a Flower shop next to Tattoo shop kleinsen? I don't know why but that sounds really cute.
(Hey there! I’m highkey sorry this took so long and also went in a really weird, long direction. Hope you like it anyway lol. I’m also linking the post on archive. Thanks for the prompt it’s adorable!)
Alone (read on ao3.)
Sometimes in the morning when the light was just right, the bouquets in front of the flower shop across the street seemed to glow: deep golds and oranges mixed with the reds and purples and whites of the flower petals. It was better than a normal sunrise with all the added colors. Jared got to work too early often: he always left his apartment with time to get coffee and the occasional pastry at the shop on the way and he liked being able to walk slowly and let rushed looking people with briefcases or sleep clouded eyes cut ahead of him in line.
He liked unlocking the shop in the morning and going through all of the appointments before Connor or Zoe or any of the other artists got there to bother him. He also liked seeing the flower guy open up across the street at the same time. He had messy hair and freckles and looked stupidly excited arranging flowers in big bins and dusting pollen off of his apron. He was kind of cute (of course Jared would never admit this to Connor or Zoe, both of whom pestered him relentlessly whenever they thought he had a crush) but Jared was too cowardly to make a move besides the no doubt awkward smiles he directed his way when they happened to leave work at the same time.
He needed a reason to buy flowers.
“Hell Kleinman, what time did you get in?” A very tired looking Connor Murphy, complete with his signature ‘I didn’t have time to wash my hair, sue me’ bun, extra large coffee (likely his second of the day), and black and paint stained wardrobe, entered.
“8:15. Are you okay man? You look a little worse for wear, more so than usual I mean,” he smirked.
“Fuck off. I had a late night but I should be good after this coffee. My guy’s not coming in until 2:30 right?”
Jared glanced at the day’s schedule and nodded. “I gave him all the paperwork when he was here last time so he should be good to go, provided he likes whatever it is you came up with.”
“Oh he’ll like it,” Connor said with a wry smile. He pulled a sketchbook out of his messenger bag and presented him with an intricate design of waves and an anchor, several names curled in the deep blues like sea creatures. It was the design he’d been commissioned to make. “He gave me kind of a free reign.” Connor Murphy had a flair for design that complimented his steady hand when tattooing people. His portfolio included many pieces that were complicatedly simple.
“Impressive,” he replied sincerely.
Connor leaned his elbows on the counter, directly over Jared’s color coded calendar. “When are you going to let me give you some more ink Kleinman?
"We’ve discussed this.”
“Sure we have,” he said with an eye roll. “Alright, it’s my turn to clean the bathroom so that’s what I’ll be doing if anyone needs me.” He sauntered into the back.
The flower shop guy was out in front of the store again. He was talking to a customer and Jared leaned his head on his palm, and stared at him. He wished he knew his name.
“Are you staring at him again?”
Jared jumped. “I’m not staring. Staring at who? I don’t stare at people. I don’t know what you’re talking about Zoe.” She had come in the front door when he was distracted and was now raising her eyebrows at him critically.
“You should just talk to him you know? He seems nice.”
“It’s not a big deal Zo,” he said, face going red despite himself. “I don’t even know him.”
Zoe sighed. “That’s my point. You always do this dude. You get crushes on strangers or friends of friends and you stare and blush and get awkward about it but you never do anything.”
Because you’re a coward. Because you don’t deserve it. His brain filled in the mean, insecure things it always did. She was right. Zoe was usually right about him.
“Maybe I just don’t want a relationship. Have you ever thought about that?” he said defensively.
“Yeah I have and I know it’s not true.”
He frowned and looked away, back down at the schedule. She had three appointments for today and usually took care of the walk ins. Though not as design minded as her brother, Zoe Murphy was a skilled an efficient tattoo artist. Jared tended to schedule first timers with her because she was good at easing fears and communicating what she was doing as she did it. (He made a point to give nervous clients to anyone but Connor.)
“Hey.” Zoe reached out. She turned his hand over and traced the lined tattooed on his wrist. “We’ve all got each other remember?” She turned her wrist to display the tattoo that matched his: NOT ALONE in black print. Zoe, Connor, and Jared all had the same words. They got them a year ago, shortly after Connor was hired. He’d been up and down in the years before then, dropping out of college his sophomore year and working solitary odd jobs to get by. When Connor’s mental health got bad his physical health quickly followed. He smoked instead of slept and forgot to eat. He isolated himself, dodging Jared’s calls and disappearing whenever Zoe tried to visit him. After a particularly low point (he lost his job at a gas station, started self-harming again, and was MIA for two terrifying days) He showed up at Jared’s apartment looking like a ghost and begged him for help.
“I can’t go to Zoe,” he’d said. “Zoe dealt with me all through high school I can’t do this in front of her again. I’m just spiraling and I know it and I can’t stop.” Jared remembered that day too vividly. His best friend (their relationship had always been a little bumpy but Connor was his best friend) sobbing on his doorstep, looking starved and like he was missing a week’s worth of sleep, at his lowest since high school wasn’t something he could ever forget.
But with time and rest and proper medication and the wonderful, loving, brave Zoe Murphy to set her brother straight on a few things: “You can’t disappear like that. You just can’t. And you can’t hide from me either. I love you and I’m always going to be here whether you like it or not” things got better again. And in an odd turn of events the Murphy siblings fulfilled a bizarre childhood dream of becoming certified tattoo artists (they were fucking weird kids) and Connor started full time at the parlor when Zoe was hired part time to make money while she finished grad school. They got the tattoos to remind each other. Late at night, when the moonlight came in through the window he’d lift his wrist toward the ceiling and squint at the letters in the dark. He couldn’t really see much but the blur of his pale arm without his glasses but he knew the words were there.
The day passed quickly. The morning appointments went on without issue and by lunch Jared was nearly out of work to do.
“Hey can you do me a favor when you go on your lunch break?” Zoe had since tied her hair up into a messy bun, indicating that she had a lot of work to do. He’d noticed her studying in between appointments.
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Alana’s parents are coming over for dinner tonight. It’s kind of a big deal y'know?”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He exclaimed. Zoe and Alana had been dating for nearly a year and she hadn’t met her parents. Alana had met the rest of the Murphys, an extremely awkward affair by Zoe’s reports, but this was new.
“I don’t know,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I didn’t want to drag it out. But can you grab me a bouquet from across the street? My 1 o'clock is coming in early so I’ll be able to leave faster.”
“I can do that…uh, yeah. I can do that but why didn’t you ask Connor?” He felt his face getting red again.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes I think you should talk to flower guy but that’s not why I’m asking you. I don’t trust my brother to buy me things anymore.”
“Hey!” Connor called from the next room.
“Con I asked you to get eggs and milk and you came home with 4 bags of Cheetos and nail polish remover.”
“The Cheetos were on sale. I got distracted!”
“Please Jared?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll get you your flowers but I’m not going to talk to him unless I have a perfect opportunity.”
“It’s not a fairy tale Kleinman!” Connor called.
“It’s not polite to eavesdrop Murphy!”
“Deal,” Zoe said. “I don’t have a preference on flowers. It might be advantageous to ask an employee for help.”
“Don’t push it.”
He fixed his collar and cleaned his glasses in the bathroom before he left. He could hear the buzz of a needle as he stared at himself in the mirror and debated switching his watch to his other wrist to cover up his tattoo. He wasn’t ashamed of it or anything. In fact, it made him feel stronger. It made him feel like he belonged. But he got nervous. People figured out he worked at a tattoo parlor and got judge-y. They looked at the ink at his wrist and the tilt of their eyebrows asked when he’d get a real job. He fought back the urge and left the bathroom. He could do this. All he had to do was buy flowers. It was just a crush. It wasn’t a big deal.
The bell on the door dinged when he walked in and the guy looked up. Fuck. He felt his face go red as the guy smiled. “Welcome, I’m Evan. L-let me know if you have any questions.”
Evan…he had a slight stutter but the flowers he was arranging looked unified and his hands didn’t shake.
“Thanks,” he replied, looking away quickly. He scanned the rows of flowers and tried not to look completely awkward. “Do you uh…” he came closer to the counter where Evan was. "I’m looking for a bouquet to impress a girlfriend’s parents.“
"Your girlfriend?”
“Oh, no…not my girlfriend I’m sorry that phrasing was weird. I’m getting flowers for my friend. She’s meeting her girlfriend’s parents tonight and she’s too busy to pick a bouquet so I’m uh…I’m doing it. I don’t have a girlfriend though. I’m gay. And I’m single and I need to stop talking oh my god.”
Evan laughed. “You’re fine. You work at the tattoo place across the street right? I think I’ve seen you over there.” It might have been his imagination but he thought Evan sounded kind of eager.
“Yeah, I do. So does my friend.”
“Are you a tattoo artist?”
“Oh god no.” Jared crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously. “I make the schedules and balance the books and shit. I wish I was talented like that.”
Evan’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Still, it must be a cool place to work.”
“It is,” he said. “I uh…” He debated for approximately 5 seconds. “I have a tattoo though,” he said, turning his wrist to Evan. The other man leaned over the counter to get a look, small smile forming on his lips. Zoe was right, he was as nice as he was cute.
“I love that! I’ve always w-wanted to get a tattoo but I’m s-scared about it hurting or I don’t know, freaking out when they do it and moving too much so the whole thing gets messed up. Is that the only one you have?”
“Yeah, it was a friend thing. We all got them together. It was pretty special.”
“I’m going to do it one d-day.” Evan blushed furiously, determinedly.
“You should. My friend Zoe could do one for you. She’s great.”
There was a beat before Evan startled. “I’m sorry. You need help and I work here I should b-be t-talking your ear off.”
“You’re good dude. I just need a nice bouquet.” He eyed the arrangement he was working on. “Like that one. Can I have that one?”
“Of course you can.” Evan smiled again and Jared couldn’t feel his face.
“I’ll wrap it up for you in just a second.” He placed and replaced a few more flowers in the arrangement. It was bright, with peonies and hyacinth and hydrangeas.
“Thanks.” God he should say something. It was dumb to just stay silent. It was dumb to let the opportunity slip away. It was dumb…
“Hey, um. C-can I ask your n-name?” He looked up at Evan.
“Jared. I’m Jared.”
“Jared,” Evan repeated. “Would it be totally uncomfortable if I asked for y-your number?”
“Like the number to the shop?”
“N-no like your cell number. So I could ask y-you out.”
“Oh. No that wouldn’t be uncomfortable. I mean…I’m making things uncomfortable now but I can definitely give you my number.”
“Okay. C-cool. I’ll wrap this up and you can um…” he grabbed a post it and pen and handed them to Jared. “Do that.”
“Okay, I will.” He tried not to smile too much. He’d been around so many hard and edgy people working where he did. It made him feel out of place sometimes. But Evan wasn’t edgy. Evan was soft and gentle with flowers and speech. Maybe he wouldn’t feel out of place with him.
“Here you go,” Evan chirped, handing him the bouquet and turning to the register to ring it up. “I hope I see you around Jared.” He added after Jared had handed him the money and post it.
“Yeah. I hope so too.”
He didn’t feel alone.
#kleinsen#dear evan hansen#deh fic#evan hansen#jared kleinman#jared kleinman/evan hansen#connor murphy#zoe murphy#alana beck#galaxy gals#conman brotp lol#awi's fic#ask awi#yosaflameslover#thank!!
41 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
unconventionalgoodgirl
My Virtual Home
toxicsoul77
⛧ToxicSoul77⛧
galaxyjamwich
GalaxyJamWich
cynderellir
CynderEllir aka Tarilja
techworkshop
Tech Workshop