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gffa · 5 months

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It is still absolutely a marvel to me how much BATFAMILY fic I have been reading and enjoying, it's been awhile since I've gone at such a sustained fever pitch so consistently, which is because this fandom keeps putting out fic that makes me fall in love all over again, along with all the comics I've been reading and enjoying. I am so delighted by how I can bounce around various eras or characters (well, let's be fair, I still have a Dick Grayson Problem That I Am Making Your Problem Too) and there's so much to read that I'm having trouble keeping up!

Join me in having the best problem: Too much good fic to read, because I swear that even when I'm crying because fic has punched me in the feelings, I'm still having a great time and it's definitely not a trap to lure you all into crying with me. Well, unless you're into that. And, in that case, READ AND CRY AND/OR MELT INTO GOO WITH ME, BECAUSE FANDOM IS PROVIDING.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Step One: Learning to Catch by TheBlueMoo, dick & bruce, 2k “Okay, now extend your arms.” It was jarring, Bruce reflected, to be taking instructions from his nine-year-old ward. He was trying to think of it as receiving lessons from an expert gymnast instead, but it wasn’t really helping. or Dick freaks out during training one night, and Bruce isn't entirely sure why ✦ the quiet noise by orphan_account, dick & clark & jim (& bruce), 3.4k When Batman is in surgery after a stab wound to the lung, Commissioner Gordon sits with Robin at the hospital as they wait for someone from the league to arrive. ✦ The art of falling in the rain by Bob_the_bastard, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.4k Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been an issue, ordinarily Bruce would have taken a few steps back, caught his breath and continued on. But that night wasn’t normal. ✦ Our roots will not whither away by KrazySuperGirl, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 6.4k Bruce and Dick return to Gotham. There are plenty of problems and plenty of good days. ✦ Will Protect You From All Around You by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 3k Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? ✦ Fly South by SonoSvegliato, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k Birds fly south in winter. Robin leaves in the summer. ✦ Vertigo by tinycrown, dick & bruce & ollie & cast, 1.8k After being ambushed by Count Vertigo's men, Batman's partner isn't doing so well. Green Arrow observes. ✦ Friends by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k The manor loomed large, surrounded by acres of manicured grass and trees bursting with autumnal colors that made Dick feel like he was gazing at a forest on fire. He was distantly aware that the scene in front of him was incredible, something out of a storybook. He should have been amazed and even grateful, but all he could think was, 'Mom would have loved this.' ✦ There For You by Val_Creative, dick & bruce & cast, 2.4k Snapshots of how Robin came to be Batman's trusted partner and how Dick became Bruce's beloved son. /Standalone. No pairings. ✦ tummy troubles by brandywine421, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.5k Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed and warily pulled back the covers. Dick blinked at him with wide, sad blue eyes. "What's wrong?" "Don't feel good," he murmured, scowling when Bruce curled his hand against his cheek. "My stomach hurts." ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Whole, but not hale by Fae_Winter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 1.5k Bruce was never listening to Clark again, damnit ✦ Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes by catboysam, dick & bruce, 1k Bruce wishes, as he has wished every minute of every day for nearly 20 years, that things were different for himself. But now he also wishes that for Dick. No child should have to experience what they have. But he really is selfish, it seems, because at the same time, how could he possibly want to give up a single second with this little miracle in his arms? ✦ yet to be friends by rxsecret, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 2.3k It's the annual Wayne Gala, and one of the few reporters allowed at the event just so happened to be from Metropolis. ✦ And I’ll look into your eyes to find out if I’m real by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick, 1.6k Bruce wants a lot of things. A bath. Seeing his family. Not having been missing for a whole year. He wants Dick to wake up and realize he’s not a hallucination.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ medicine by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, ~1k “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.” “Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.” Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.” ✦ Someday All Of This Will Go Away by WanderIntoFics, dick & bruce, alternate version character death, 2.3k Bruce never stopped telling Dick he loved him. It takes a heart-wrenching and terrifying experience with an alternate future Bruce for Dick to realize that maybe he stopped being able to hear it. ✦ vacation town by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.6k Normally, Dick wouldn't enjoy recovering from a stab wound from a poisoned knife, but he has to admit, it's nice to be home. ✦ all i can by emavee, dick & bruce, 1.7k Whatever they injected Dick with is taking away his senses. Bruce tries to hold on for both of them. ✦ my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm by emavee, dick & bruce, 5.6k wip Five times Dick held Bruce's hand, and one time Bruce held his. ✦ Moving on by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & bruce & cast, 2.7k When he’d been called to Gotham, Dick had expected to do the job and then get moving to the next thing, and then the next, and then the next. An abrupt meeting with the side of a building interrupts his plans.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Chatterbox by Ptelea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & donna & roy & cast, 24.7k "Yeah, I'm fine," Dick said. Then he frowned, because he had not just meant to say that. Or: Eight times that spells or serums affected Dick's ability to speak and / or their aftermath. ✦ Misremembered and Misnumbered by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & jason & clark & diana, 1.9k Dick may not actually be quite as old as he told everyone he was. In his defense, it wasn't so much lying as that he sort of just forgot. ✦ WE'LL LIVE IN SPACES BETWEEN WALLS. by orpheusaki, bruce & dick & jason, time travel, 4.6k (Something is different about Dick. Bruce notices.) ✦ Tonight Will Be a Memory Too by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & cass & bruce, 1.2k They don’t happen often—once a month or so, with varying degrees of spottiness. Sometimes Dick will walk into a room and forget what he’s there for. He’ll forget the locations of things, like where he left his keys or where the refrigerator is. Once he forgot his own name. Even if the episodes don’t occur often, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. ✦ Can I Sleep With You? by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & damian & titans & cast, 2k “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. “‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?” ✦ Broken Silence by Geeves, bruce & dick & cast, 1.3k Bruce reflects on how quiet the manor used to be. It could be painful at times, but it's not like that anymore. ✦ the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & duke & alfred, reverse robins, talon!dick, 6k In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Anonymous, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 11.3k wip Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Iron Bound by coyote_nebula, bruce & dick & jason, 3.1k Batman never ran out of solutions. He just ran out of ideal solutions. Nightwing finds himself in a tight spot involving a compact car-sized paper roll. ✦ The Mantle by ValleyOfKings, dick & clark & diana & justice league (& bruce) & cast, 2.9k Batman ‘dies’ and Dick must takes his place. He doesn't want the job but he knows that it is what he must do. He must accept the mantle and protect Gotham. The Justice League must also accept their new Batman. It might have helped if they knew that Batman didn't work as alone as they had once thought. ✦ Bravery, and everything that looks like it by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & steph, 3.4k Bruce had promised Dick a fun and chill weekend. Instead, they find themselves in the middle of a burning chemical facility. When he thinks everyone should have been evacuated, Nightwing finds a scientist trying to secure some sort of container. She’s either very brave, or she has a death wish.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Superhero: Dick Grayson by batmoniker, dick & jason & cast, 5.3k In which Dick shows up at the school to pick Jason up after he gets into a fight. ✦ Homecoming by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & bruce, 1.2k Jason's doped up on pain-meds. Dick's holding his hand while he's bedside monitor. Bruce probably wishes he had a camera. ✦ I do not have wings love (I never will) by dizarys, dick & jason & bruce, 2.5k Jason Todd was alive. He was also bleeding out on Dick Grayson’s apartment floor. How 'Under the Red Hood' might have ended if Dick was at Bruce and Jason's final warehouse confrontation.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ cashmere-soft and irresistible by victoria_p (musesfool), cass/steph, ~1k Cass and Steph and dumplings and lipstick. ✦ Picking Up Pieces by Cephalogod, bruce & steph & dick, 4k “Bruce!” Steph called as she approached, weaving between people. His head snapped towards her, and the stark relief in his expression almost stopped her in her tracks. That was just...wrong. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be relieved to see her. He was supposed to be annoyed or resignedly amused, not looking at her like a life raft in the ocean. ✦ Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79, Sevidri, bruce/clark & dick, 11.2k Bruce neglects to explain exactly who the attractive young man that seems to know him so well is, and what their relationship entails. Naturally, there are some misunderstandings. ✦ Presque Vu by PechoraFlow, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 17.4k wip Bruce gets amnesia and the Batfamily conspires to keep their vigilante side secret from him. They were just trying to keep him home, safe until he recovered. They expected that Bruce would pick up on clues and put together The Batman secret on his own. They didn't expect him to form a different picture entirely. They didn't expect Bruce Wayne would come to hate the Batman.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim, 2.1k “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” ✦ Time Loop vs Ethiopia by AJElementus, dick & tim (& bruce & jason), 9.1k In one universe, Jason died while Dick was on a space mission with the Titans. In another? There’s a time loop. In which Jason doesn’t die, Tim joins the family early, and Dick... well... Dick's just trying to figure out what's going on! ✦ so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?) by dizarys, dick & tim, 1.3k Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? ✦ under the wing by acrobats, dick & tim & cast, 1.4k “Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown

BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 71k wip He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Can't Shake the Feeling by Hayleythewriter, tim/kon & tim/bernard & cassie & bart & dick & damian & cast, 17k Tim introduces his boyfriend to his friends. Almost everyone likes him. ✦ The Electric Pull of Spring by Merelymine, tim/kon, nsfw, 4.3k "I feel fine," Kon says, breathing deeply. He leans towards Tim and takes an even deeper, longer breath. "I feel really, really good, actually. And you smell—you smell really good." ✦ A No Good Very Bad Day by mademoisellePlume, tim/kon & jason & lois, read the tags, 3.7k You’d think drugging a half-Kryptonian into sleep would be half as easy as taking a full Kryptonian out of commission. But no, life couldn’t be that simple for Jason, could it? He watched Superboy stumble down the hallway in his pyjama pants, eyes half-lidded and sweating like Two-Face when a flipped coin balanced on its edge. ✦ Pandora's Other Box by FridaysChild, tim/kon & dick & bart & kate & ma kent, 2.5k Prompt: "Kon and Tim identify as straight. After realising their mutual attraction, they both freak out in different ways."

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Adoptions by Kannika, clark & conner & cast, 2.7k Clark prepared for a lot of things, getting closer to Conner. This is not one of them. ✦ Aftershock by sElkieNight60, clark/lois & conner & jon, 13k wip He knows this is awkward for Clark. It’s awkward for them both. They were gonna start slow. Warm up to each other. Maybe go apple-picking in the summer. A movie, a restaurant, bowling, or something. But a sleepover, really? That wasn’t going slow. ✦ IS IT JUST YOU AND ME IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE WORLD? by orpheusaki, clark & conner & bruce & diana & jason & cast, 2.2k "You look happy, Kal." She's right, Clark is overjoyed. In between shopping for children's clothes with Lois (after she'd gotten over the shock of it all, which was surprisingly quick. Clark thinks Lois might prefer Conner to him now, not that he blames her for it) and wandering around the Fortress of Solitude with a small palm tucked into his own, Clark hasn't stopped grinning, "Superman is no longer the only Kryptonian alive." (Clark saves Conner from CADMUS as a child AU.)

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ oh but if I could choose, I would choose not to feel by dizarys, bruce & dick & donna & cast, 1.4k His eyes flicked over the long room, evaluating and searching. When he finally spotted him, Bruce’s heart plummeted. Dick Grayson was slouched at the crumb flecked bar counter, staring blankly into a barely touched pint with a hand twisted in his hair. Misery personified. ✦ batman by hellsreluctantheir, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 57.3k Dick came back from a trip to space to a dead father figure, a grieving, guilty little brother, and a legacy waiting for him. Suddenly he's moving back to Gotham, playing Bat, trying to keep Jason from spiraling, trying to keep himself from spiraling, with the added bonus of a kid stalking him at the grocery store. It takes two years before things start to feel like they're getting better. Which is right about when the Red Hood comes to town. ✦ Day 3 - Nightmares (2.2) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & tim, 3.3k Bruce is resigned to the nightmares after their most recent kidnapping. But that doesn't mean they don't have an impact on him. ✦ My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes, dick & damian & tim & cast, 6.2k Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece. ✦ Pale Reflections by BearlyWriting, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cast, 2.6k ‘Bruce blinks again. A chill breeze brushes against him, searching for a way through his uniform. Concrete, Bruce tells himself, it’s concrete, not sand. It’s water, not blood. It’s Dick. And yet, he’s as still as Jason was then, as lifeless. Bruce moves without thinking. He isn’t thinking. His mind is utterly blank, a void in his head.’ ✦ love brought weight to this heart by dizarys, bruce & dick & john & mary & damian & duke, 1.9k Of course Dick came by every time Haly’s was in town. But he loved when his family was able to join him. And now, with lights illuminating the big top, performers streaming into the ring with flashy costumes, and his family enthralled, Dick felt at peace. Both sides of his life were together. It should’ve been perfect. And looking back, he still wasn’t sure what pushed it off course. But it might have been the fire. ✦ what's in a name by envysparkler, bruce & dick & jason, 4.5k Kidnappers strike at a gala and abduct two of Bruce Wayne’s sons. Or at least that’s what they think. ✦ I’m gambling with the sun (on which one of us dies young) by dizarys, dick & jason & donna & roy & tim & damian & cassandra & cast, 6.9k The Justice League have been wiped from existence by Pariah, leaving Nightwing to once again navigate the death of Batman. But this time, even with his siblings and friends rallying around him, the cracks start to show ✦ (someone told me) love would all save us by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas), bruce & dick & tim, 1k Dick is floating in an abyss of black. It is not peaceful, yet not malicious. It simply is. ✦ Slipping 998° by CKBookish, bruce & dick & tim & cast, 2.5k When a house fire turns deadly Bruce wonders if he will be too late... again.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #clark kent #conner kent #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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an artist’s eye // Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict Bridgerton was an artist, even if his inspiration had no idea of what he feels.

A/N: I promise to slow down with the fics! I go back to work in a couple of days anyway so I’ll definitely slow down. I hope you all like! It’s shorter than my last few fics so I’m sorry for that!! My taglist is open so if you’d like to be on it, let me know and I am considering opening my requests for Bridgerton fics... considering.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of food and drink, pining, mutual pining, sketching, art, drawing (I am not an artist, I cannot draw a stick man so I apologise in advance), kissing.

Word count: 1.8k

The graphite point sits heavy in his hand as Benedict struggles to remember the lines he needs. With only his memory to aid him, Benedict struggled more with the portraits he preferred to draw than the landscapes that were growing increasingly popular among the highest of London society.

Sighing, Benedict presses his fingers to his eyes as if it will help jumpstart his memory to bring forward the correct image he needs. He regrets the action as quick as he had done it when he thinks of the mixture of graphite and charcoal coating his fingers.

Rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt, he feels a moment of pity for the servants who would no doubt grumble and complain at the state of it. However, as he glances down at the sketch – the arch of his subject’s smile, the depths of their eyes – he cannot bring himself to care too much.

It wouldn’t see the light of day. Once complete, the sketchbook would be tucked away in the drawer in his desk. If it was to fall into the wrong hands, then as much as he is confident of his artistic talent, he would not recover from the fallout. Benedict worries for the day that the look in your eyes changes; once you realise the extent of his feelings for you.

He hadn’t meant to fall in love with you, but he had. There were a lot of things in Benedict’s life that he hadn’t meant to do and has regretted completing such an action once done. However, he cannot find it in himself to feel bad about falling in love with you even when he had not meant to.

As much as he puts on airs and graces, he would not approach you with his feelings. He wasn’t ready though you made his heart sing like no other.

One day, he tells himself as he finally remembers the swoop of your neckline. One day he will tell you as he picks up his graphite point and charcoal once more.

Not yet, however.

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The drawing room remains quiet as Benedict silently adds to his sketch collection. His mother sits across the room, content with a stitching pattern for the arrival of Daphne’s new baby. Eloise lounges on the couch, a book in her hand and a box of chocolates on her stomach, eyes pouring over the pages hungrily.

The only sound in the room is the roughness of his pencil on the paper. It didn’t matter what angle he approached this drawing at, he could not get it to look right. It was going to vex him until he had bested it.

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has arrived,” The Butler announces to which Benedict suddenly sits up straighter, closing his sketchbook, leaving it on the table.

“Wonderful,” Violet Bridgerton smiles, “Show them up, please.”

“I didn’t know (Y/N) was calling today,” Benedict comments lightly as the Butler disappears from the room, trying to sound as if his heart isn’t currently pounding in his chest.

“(Y/N) always calls on a Thursday,” Eloise states, voice puzzled. She shares a look of confusion with her mother when Benedict suddenly stands, announcing to them both, “I shall clean myself up a bit, make myself look presentable for our guest.”

The look of confusion soon turns into one of understanding as both women watch their son and brother dash from the room. As if at the same time, a smile crosses both their faces when they realise that their beloved son and brother has fallen in love and with a dear friend of the family too.

They do not get to discuss the topic, however, for you are shown to the drawing room, greeting both women with a large smile and buoyant conversation.

“Help yourself to tea and biscuits, dear,” Violet invites, gesturing to the tea service now being laid on the table. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the biscuits, unable to turn down the buttery goodness.

“Thank you,” You reply, taking a seat at the table, reaching for a biscuit and the teapot.

It’s then that you see it. A leatherbound book left on the other side of the table, barely hidden by the cake stand of treats.

Curiosity being your besetting sin, you reach for the leatherbound book on the table and begin to flick through the pages. A sketch of a pair of hands at the beginning; they hold a single flower – a rose, though what colour is impossible to tell since the sketch remains firmly in shades of greys and blacks. Enraptured, you turn the page to find a detailed image of a parasol, still sketched in the same greys and blacks as the previous picture. The artist has captured the lace trimming perfectly. The longer you stare at it, you come to realise that the parasol is being held by someone, but it isn’t clear who.

It isn’t until you reach a sketch of your side portrait that you come to realise that the previous sketches – the hands, the parasol with just a hint of a shadow under it – they’re of you.

They’re all of you. Each stunning sketch is of you.

Your breath quickens in your chest when you see who the sketchbook belongs to; when you spy the initials written on the inside sleeve of the front cover. ‘B.B.’ written in his elegant script – an artist in every aspect of his life. Whilst you had observed that Benedict sometimes appeared with smudges to his fingers and paint stains on the cuffs of his tailored white shirt, you had never seen a sketch or a painting until now. He truly had a gift; a talent worthy of being displayed in Somerset House.

You hadn’t been aware of his feelings for you though, but you would not be the first to admit that you found yourself attracted to the Bridgerton. Taught at a young age, you knew it was not wise to share such feelings with others. Instead, you dampened them down, hiding them away where they grew unattended – they rooted in your heart, making it very difficult to find another love worthy.

Bringing a hand to your mouth, you hide your smile, not wanting to give too much away to ever observant Bridgerton matriarch. You turn page after page, letting yourself fall deeper into your feelings for Benedict now that you find there is hope of them being requited.

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Benedict’s breath leaves his body in one fell swoop when he returns to the drawing room and he realises exactly what you hold in your hand. He hadn’t moved it upon your announcement; he thought he had, but instead, like a fool, he left it sitting there on the table.

A fool. He was a fool. How quick, Benedict thinks to himself, how quick a life can change – mere minutes he had been gone and now he was to have his love for you outed.

You haven’t noticed his presence yet, and for that Benedict is thankful. It gives him time to come up with something – anything – to explain the numerous sketches of you. His mind is running too fast; he cannot come up with a thought good enough to excuse the sketches in his book. His heart continues to pound in his chest; it had not slowed down since your announcement though at this point it reminds him that is, indeed, alive and not suffering from a night terror.

As if finally sensing the extra person in the room, you glance up. Your eyes meeting the deep blue of Benedict’s, and you freeze in your spot. Violet and Eloise glance between the two of you. Violet, not one to usually ignore tradition, hurries her daughter from the room – knowing the conversation that was about to take place.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper at the click of the door shutting. You close the sketchbook, placing it on the table as far away from you as possible to keep your temptation at bay.

“I think I should be the one apologising,” Benedict confesses, taking one more step into the room. He tucks his hands behind his back, ever the picture of grace and elegance as he thinks of how long he has left without before your opinion of him changes forever – artistic talent or not.

“I knew you were an artist; I had seen the smudges on your hands, but I didn’t think…”

“What?”

“I didn’t think you were drawing me.”

“Surely you know?” He asks, voice loud in the quiet room. When you remain silent, he continues, “Surely you know of my feelings for you?”

You shake your head, eyes glancing between the taller Bridgerton and the leatherbound sketchbook lying on the table. “I didn’t know,” You whisper, voice breaking as you take in the distraught look on his face.

“Well,” Benedict murmurs, clearing his throat, “You know of them now.”

“I do,” You murmur,

“I hope I haven’t offended you,” Benedict remarks, “Those sketches were not meant to be seen by anyone else.”

“Only if I haven’t offended you by looking through them.”

Benedict shakes his head, “You could never offend me.”

“Then I am not offended either. I’m quite flattered, you’re very talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict says graciously, nodding his head slightly.

“You need to know that your feelings are returned, Benedict,” You declare suddenly and plainly, displaying your feelings for all to see.

“They are?” Benedict asks, voice awed as if he didn’t take into account this reaction.

“They are,” You state firmly, meeting his gaze proudly as if you could ever be ashamed of your feelings for the brunette.

Benedict stalks across the room; tradition and etiquette be damned as he reaches for your hand to pull you from your chair. His hands settle on your waist as you tilt your head back to look at him. A silent question reflects in his eyes to which you answer with a nod of your head.

His hands move from your waist to cradle your face as he dips down, pressing his lips to yours. It isn’t hurried; it’s perfect as Benedict takes control of the kiss, groaning softly at the feel of your mouth and your body pressed against him. You smile into the kiss as your arms wrap around Benedict’s neck, pulling him ever closer to you.

Benedict’s mouth brushes against yours as he asks, “Would you like to accompany me to Lady Danbury’s ball next week?”

“As in you would court me?”

Benedict chuckles softly, “Yes. I would like to court you, is that okay?”

“More than okay,” You smile before pressing a kiss to the corner of Benedict’s mouth and stepping away.

Turning back to the sketchbook, you open it to image that had kickstarted your heart into an irregular rhythm. Benedict stands by your side as your eyes pour over his sketch; each line and angle, each section of shading. “You truly have an artist’s eye,” You say quietly, tangling your hands together.

“Thank you,” Benedict whispers, bringing your entwined hands up to his mouth whereupon he lays a gentle kiss to the back of your gloved hand.

“Will you show me more?” You ask, turning to face the man that had turned you into a work of art.

“Darling, I’ll show you them all.”

***********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagines #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagines

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lambourngb · 3 years

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day 6: lesser known creators and creations- the hidden gems of fandom

Belated for @roswellnewmexicocreate [last few days have been challenging!]

New creators are the lifeblood of fandom, because not everyone stays in fandom or stays inspired to write for it. While there are times I just want to re-read a classic, there really is something fun about clicking on a new name to see what they think of our beloved alien show.

We have very long hiatuses, and sometimes people pull away until the show comes back, so I thought I would also highlight some lessor known creations as well from our last hiatus. As we are blessed in the malex side of fandom, there’s a small but mighty group of fans and creators, churning out new works every day, so maybe you might have missed these works.

***

calamitous by @bubblesyoh (3,962) - Two times they apologize to each other and three times they are so in love they can't even fool one another.

why i like it: most of us know bubblesyoh as being a supportive friend, reblogging and commenting so prolifically- but they are also an author! Malex have without a doubt hurt one another in canon, and there is an art to writing a good apology fic and this story does it well.

***

kill me tonight, darling by u1ltsa (4.867)-Alex and Michael have a memorable first meeting at a party. They keep running into each other and can't seem to get enough of one another.

why i like it: It’s a human AU where over the course of months, these two keep running into each other. Michael is so smitten in this story and can’t help chasing Alex and how Alex makes him feel. It’s sexy and kinky and ends happily ever after. My favorite meeting is still the bar scene that ends up at a hotel- wow.

***

next time will be the last time by kit alridge (1,715) "It's not how it's going to happen, next time. Because next time will be the last time we do the falling-back-together thing." After a close shave, Alex and Michael come close to falling back into old patterns, but have a much-needed conversation instead.

why i like it: I’m so weak for the “we survived let’s fuck to celebrate” trope, and this story explores what it means for Malex to fall into it, and how closely it mirrors some of their past, unhealthy behaviors. Anyway this hits all the notes that I pray we get in the second half of season 3, where these two finally talk and admit what they want.

***

tell me what you’ll do, please by @entropychanges (3,054) So, Michael, dripping like a wet mop on the restaurant’s tile floor, stood silently as he looked between the sister of the girl whose murder he covered up only two months ago, and his lover who would rather be sent off to war than be with him. Great. He swallowed, figuring he may as well break the silence.“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if-”“The kitchen is closed,” Liz interrupted, looking him up and down before saying, “but you can stay until the storm lets up.” Or, in which Michael gets caught out in the rain while sleeping in his truck, and ends up taking shelter in the last place he wants to be.

why i like it: Sometimes I like to cry about Michael, especially Michael at 17-18, after the shed. This story serves up all the angst of what his life looked like then, along with the grief that Liz was living in and the grim determination that Alex had about his own fate. They were all such babies and they were in such pain, and ugh that breaks my heart.

***

I’ll take care of you by @cosmiceverafter (2,055) When Alex stops by Michael's airstream to confess how he's feeling, he ends up taking care of the alien he loves so much instead.

why i like it: classic hurt-comfort here, which I always eat up with a spoon. Highlights for me in this story was Michael was hurt working on a project from a natural disaster, and not anything self-inflicted, and then Alex finding that iconic picture of the two of them in the desert with guitars. Ooof so many feels!

***

look after you by @ravens-words Everyone checks in on Kyle. 3x04 Coda

why i like it: well before we had it in 3x06, EJ delivered the whole found-family feels of everyone coming together to make sure Kyle is okay. As they should. Kyle holds the only brain cell. EJ has been a coda-writing machine since returning to RNM with the show, so definitely check out the whole collection for season 3, and not just the chapter I linked to because they are all so good.

***

honey, i’m going to love you all my life by wwwjudedotcom (3,729) Alex leaves Michael a voicemail after he loses his leg because he doesn't want to die without telling Michael that he loves him.

why i like it: this part of a great little series of fics surrounding prompts about ‘ways to say i love you’ - I’ve probably imagined Alex’s life post-injury in Iraq a million times, I so badly want to know if he dared to call Michael, did he call out for him in his morphine daze, is that how Greg knew about Michael? And I’m unsure if the show will ever answer this question, so it’s up to fanfic writers. Anyway, I love this little AU that lets Maria know just how important Michael is to Alex right from the start and where Isobel sends them to be with Alex in Germany. Ugh what a sweet thought (probably too sweet for the angst machine that is RNM).

#rnmcreate21 #day 6 lesser known creators #malex #malex fic rec #roswell new mexico

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eggrestes · 3 years

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ladrien fic recs!

there are SO MANY amazing ladrien fics i cant possibly cover them all but here are a few!

(all the ratings used are ao3 ratings)

((this is a very long post!))

FLUFF

Of Ivy and Sunlight by cyanise [ T, 1509 words, 1/1 ]

When Adrien takes to wandering the streets of Paris in ungodly hours, Ladybug has no choice but to keep an eye on him. Still, things are bound to get a little out of hand between two overloaded teenagers with a lot of love and not enough self-control.

a lovely post-chat blanc fic :’) it has a great flow and is just soft and so sweet and it’s just perfect. gosh i cannot really say more other than read it!!! also almost all of their other stuff is also ladrien so do check it out!

This can't be happening by PlaPla [ T, 6,467 words, 1/2 ]

Ladybug is unsure whether accompanying Adrien to a gala as his not-date is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to her. But when their table mates turn out to be none other than her long time friends Alya and Nino and with Adrien acting weirder and weirder she finds herself with bigger worries than an unrequited crush.

a djwifi/ladrien double date? hit me up! i love identity shenanigans, ball dancing, ladrien, and djwifi and this is a perfect mix for me. i know it’s incomplete but it doesn’t end in a cliff-hanger really, the part 2 is just a promise of more so it doesn’t feel incomplete! PlaPla also has a short oneshot of ladrien going for a motorcycle ride.

Falling again by emsylcatac [ M, 4,506 words, 2 Works ]

They had been dancing around each other for a while now, and while fifteen year old Adrien would have been ecstatic at the idea of dating Ladybug in secret, twenty-two year old Adrien knew better. But Ladybug wasn’t making it easy. It was like… she, too, was falling for him. And that surprisingly enough, she didn’t mind.

* * *

Or Adrien trying (and failing) to keep things professional between him and Ladybug when the two of them partner up for a mission. Older AU

things are a little steamy~ here (don’t worry, it’s only implied it’s very mild and closer to a T rating than the M) but it’s a great mature take on their dynamics! emsy has more ladrien one-shots in her collection of one-shots!

i'd love to go on a date with you by sae_what [ G, 6,480 words, 1/1 ]

Once it had been falsely announced throughout Paris that Adrien and Ladybug are in a relationship, Ladybug pays him a visit to turn him down gently.

Only, she doesn’t. And instead, she has a formal dinner date. With Adrien. At 8 pm. Tonight.

LADYBUG IN A SUIT!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. okay but for real it’s so sweet and also??? they are on a date!!! a rooftop date!! (too man exclamation marks oops)

Always Welcome by chatonne-rousse [ T, 1,683 words, 1/1 ]

Ladybug knows that Adrien's window is always open for her to swing by and stop in, whether for video games or a chat or, like tonight, for soft kisses and sweet nothings.

He loves these visits. His girlfriend is always welcome. Always. (Especially for kisses.)

Written for Ladrien June, day 8: bluebell eyes.

established relationship, pre-reveal ladrien. there is something very home-y about this fic and it’s all about the comfort and quiet that i adore about it!

Five Times Gabriel Agreste Caught Ladybug in His Son’s Bedroom (and the One Time He Caught Chat Noir) by agrestenoir [ T, 1,923 words, 1/1]

Gabriel Agreste keeps finding Ladybug in his son's bedroom. As a super villain and father, this will not stand.

this crack fic is... honestly so hilarious. it’s all through gabrie-i-am-trying-to-parent-and-failing-a-lot-agreste’s POV so it is so much ridiculous!

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles [ T, 4,684 words, 1/1 ]

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Adrien is being a cat and gets tangled in the curtains on his window and it’s utterly ridiculous. all the bug and the cat tendencies make it funnier and adrien’s inner monologue is just a cherry on top!

secret valentine by a_miiraculer [ T, 12,245 words, 1/1 ]

this is the moment that we will come alive brace yourself for love sweet love, secret love

If Adrien had known that getting himself stuck in a tree would end like this, he would've gotten himself stuck sooner.

A drabble series.

i just,,,, don’t have words for how much i love it! it’s ridiculous, it’s cute, it’s funny, it’s whole-some and just ladrien. the writer also has a M rated multi-chapter ladrien kissing (no the M is very much real here) and a heroic adrien and ladybug one-shot too!

Those Benevolent Stars by peachcitt [ G, 23,696 words, 3/3 ]

“Will you come back?”

She looked up at the deep blue sky, as if she could somehow find the answer there. “I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head and looking back at him. But the stars were still there, caught in her eyes, and Adrien persisted.

“But will you?”

adrien meets his soulmate, a thief who calls herself ladybug. he falls for her, but she seems determined to maintain a space between them.

oh my god this au.... just no words!! it’s poetry and it’s tender and it’s about the yearning and just!!! perfect :’). Her current ongoing ladrien june fic is also akin to this (and the fic i linked before it) so do check it out too! (literally check out all of their works it’s so beautiful)

Flowers on the Window Sill by LNC [ G, 2,144 words, 1/1 ]

The first time Ladybug saw him, really saw him, the universe stopped.

this fic feels like poetry and it’s so lovely. LNC is always short and direct but it always hits right in the feels while also being hilarious. Her other ladrien works are just as good and i highly recommend going through them because it fulfills all of the ladrien needs (along with Reiaji)

whatever a sun will always sing is you by komorebirei [ T, 32,980 words, 37/37 ]

“I didn't think you'd actually... do anything," Adrien admitted, cheeks prickling with warmth. "I-I mean, I never expected... I didn't know you watched my interviews.” That definitely wasn’t how he'd imagined confessing to Ladybug.

“Of course I do!” Ladybug squeaked. “Uhh, that is…” She looked down at her hands, nervously turning her yo-yo over, over and over. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a crush.”

(After an unexpected confession, Ladybug and Adrien start dating in secret. A progressive character- and relationship-study quilted from drabbles, with the intention of digging treasure out of the cove that is Ladrien. Written using kashimalin-fanfiction's kiss writing prompts from Tumblr.)

it does such an excellent job at exploring this dynamic along with the characters. it’s such a sweet fic, each chapter short and fun!

ANGST

whose woods these are (I think I know.) by Reiaji [ T, 105,000 words, 25/25 ]

Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.

As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.

Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.

[Ladrien Cinderella AU]

Warnings: Child abuse, Graphic depiction of violence

this is absolutely gorgeous. it has so many troupes and so many amazing character arc and great build up and everything just flows so well. it left me in awe for weeks and i just. want to experience reading it for the first time again. look at this gorgeous art inspired by this! {and you have to read leonard bernstein too because LETTERS and LADRIEN and YEARNING}

i would do it again (oh, a thousand times) by bugabisous [ T, 2,266 words, 1/1 ]

Knowing you can bring someone back doesn’t mean you’re free of the pain of seeing them disappear before your eyes. He can’t imagine he’ll be able to look at her directly without replaying every horrifying moment when he felt her slip away in a puff of smoke.

When it happens once again, he already knows he’ll be trying again. He just can’t give up.

it expands on adrien’s feelings in the episode desperada (my beloved <3) and it is just ouch. such great angst, such great potential. the kind of tragedy that it offers is unusual for ml (it gets only rivaled by chat blanc tbh). to rival this angst bugabisous also has a fluffy one-shot :)

when the world gets too heavy (put it on my back) by Taliax [ T, 4,720 words, 1/1 ]

Chat Noir isn't allowed to cry over his father. But even when he's just Adrien, Ladybug won't abandon him.

Hawkmoth reveal hurt/comfort + Ladrien

the plagg and adrien bond written is just perfect, and oh this hits right in the feels :’) it hurts all in the right way. tali also has so many other ladrien works in all genres too

By Your Side by omniousunflower [ T, 4,361 words, 1/1 ]

(Angry and alone, Adrien waits on top of the Eiffel Tower for his lady.)

“So, how did my kitty get stranded up here?” Ladybug asks.

Groaning, Adrien pulls his knees toward his chest and presses his face against them. “Because he’s stupid and impulsive.”

“Chasing pigeons, then?”

“No.” Shame burns in Adrien’s veins, white-hot now that Ladybug is here to witness his stupidity. “I threw my Miraculous, and Plagg wouldn’t get it for me.”

post-hawkmoth defeat, and adrien is not doing well at all. i am cheating because it is post reveal, pre relationship but it’s still ladrien. this fic is a roller coater of emotions, starting from a slightly crack scenario to a cute, awkward, hopeful ending. More Than You Know is another of sunny’s angsty ladrien work!

Breaking The Rules (AKA The Ladrien Fistfight) by ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap [ T, 8,714 words, 1/1 ]

Marinette may or may not be dying, but she’s still going to do her best to fix every single problem in the world. She’s not expecting Adrien to be the one who tries to stop her. (Takes place immediately after Kwami Buster)

Warnings: panic attack, broken bones, PTSD. please read the tags!

*slaps this fic* this fic can fit in so much angst. it just?? left me in PAIN oof. it says ‘ladrien fistfight’ on the lid but nooo there is marinette is just having a freak out and it’s all so much??!! and it’s not just marinette there is adrien too and chloe and alya and- wow it’s amazing. love it so much it fills up my angst needs :’)

so that’s it for now! my personal commentary isn’t impressive nor does it do justice to the fic but i still hope you read a few of these!! happy reading!!

#ladren #fic rec #ml fic rec #miraculous ladybug #i know i dont do the fics justice but. oh well #lovesquare #ladrien #obviously check out the writers other workd too but this is ladrien so i am trying to give it a bit more emphasis #also i am so sorry i couldnt include more lesser known writers but unfortunatley they dont have ladrien uRGH anyway maybe sometime later!#i spend a lot of time on thi n got lazy so plz be considerate #also add recs if u want even self-promo is cool duh

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shezzaspeare · 3 years

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Pilot/Episode 1: Patching Things Up With Pastiche & Fanfiction

Hi, hello, and the wait is finally over! My name is Blessie, and welcome to the first episode webisode log installation I've decided to call these things an episode for now because why not also let me know what do you actually call these things episode of The Science of Fanfiction, where we take a closer look into our beloved works of fanon because we've all got plenty of time to spare till Season 5. Before I continue, I would like to thank everyone who's liked and reblogged the last few posts before this one. It means a lot for a small and growing Tumblr user like me, and your support is something I cherish more than my modules. You guys rock!

Anyways, like with most things, we have to talk about the boring and bland stuff before we proceed with the fun stuff. For today, we are going to settle the difference between a couple of things: first being the confusion between pastiche and fanfiction; then the distinctions between tropes, clichés, and stereotypes, which we'll tackle the next time. It's important for us to establish their true meanings in order for us to really understand what fanfiction truly is, even if it's merely just a work done for the fandom. I know – it's boring, it's something that shouldn't be expounded that much, but I believe that all forms of writing (unless it's plagiarised) is a work of art — and fanfiction is not something we always talk about. I hope that by the end of this, you'll learn about what they really are as much as I did. Let's begin to talk about the—

[Image ID: A flashback of John (left) and Sherlock (right) finding an elephant (not in the screen) in a room in The Sign of Three. End ID]

. . . I did say that this GIF will always have to make an appearance here, didn't I?

So, just as with Sherlock Holmes, all other works of fiction have their own pastiches and fanfiction, and many more original works out there have taken inspiration from them to create their own books. Although they've gained popular attention, this will not be possible if they did not have taken inspiration from the materials their writers had at the time.

[Image ID: Various actors as Dracula. Jeremy Brett in 'Dracula' (1978) (upper left), Adam Sandler in a voice role for 'Hotel Transylvania' (2012) (upper right), Gary Oldman in 'Dracula' (1992) (lower left), and Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula' (1933) (lower right). End ID]

For instance, Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' (the second most adapted literary character, next to the consulting detective himself) has been portrayed on the screen over 200 times — from Gary Oldman to Adam Sandler — and has spawned off numerous books and pastiches of its own such as Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot'. Its cultural impact served as a basis of how we see vampires today, since some characteristics of the Count were made by Stoker himself. Stoker's creation is the brainchild of his predecessors and inspirations.

[Image ID: Vlad the Impaler (left) and a book cover of 'Carmilla' by J. Sheridan Le Fanu (right). End ID]

Other than the ongoing hysteria over dead back then and the existing vampire folklore, Stoker also took his inspirations from the published books on vampires he had at hand. He is said to have taken inspiration from Vlad the Impaler, a Romanian national hero known allegedly for having impalement as his favourite method of torture. He is also said to have been inspired by the J. Sheridan Le Fanu's 'Carmilla', a Gothic lesbian vampire novella that predates Dracula by 26 years. I could go on, but hey, we're going back to Sherlock Holmes now before I deviate any further. However, if you want to know about Dracula's literary origins, I suggest you watch Ted-ED's videos about the subject matter such as this one or this one.

Very much like Stoker, ACD didn't just conceive Holmes on his own. He took his own inspirations from what he had available at the time.

[Image ID: Dr Joseph Bell (left) and Edgar Allan Poe (right). End ID]

As we all know, ACD's biggest inspiration for Sherlock Holmes was one of his teachers at the Edinburgh University, Joseph Bell. He was famous for his powers of deduction, and he was also interested in forensic science — both characteristics which Holmes is greatly known for. He also drew inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe's sleuth, C. Auguste Dupin ('The Purloined Letter' & 'Murders in Rue Morgue'). As ACD himself has said at the 1909 Poe Centennial Dinner: "Where was the detective story until Poe breathed life into it?" Some other writers he took after are Wilkie Collins, Émile Gaboriau, and Oscar Wilde.

Now, what does this say about us Sherlockians/Holmesians (depending if you're the coloniser or the one that was colonised)? Basically, ACD laid the groundwork for us with Sherlock Holmes: his humble abode 221B that he shares with his flatmate Dr. John Watson, his adventures, memoirs, return, casebook, last vow, and all that. Now that we have this material at hand, we can now make our own versions, takes, or even original stories featuring the characters of the Canon. Our inspiration comes from ACD's Sherlock Holmes, and we now get the chance to make our very own stories/conspiracy theories about them.

As I have mentioned earlier, Sherlock Holmes is the most adapted literary character in history. He has been adapted in over 200 films, more than 750 radio adaptations, a ballet, 2 musicals; and he's become a mouse, a woman, a dog, even a bloody cucumber. On top of all that are numerous pastiches and fanfics, and finally, we have arrived at the main topic of our post!

Fanfiction and pastiche are often confused together since they have three common elements: they take after the original work, they usually use the characters in that original work, and more often than not do are they set in that same time frame/period or not long after that. The common misconception is that pastiche are printed fanfiction, which is only partly true. While pastiche is definitely fanfiction in some ways and vice versa, there are fanfictions out there that aren't necessarily classified as pastiche that have been published.

Let's get on with our definition of terms to clear up the confusion a little more. Pastiche, according to Literary Terms, is:

. . . a creative work that imitates another author or genre. It’s a way of paying respect, or honor, to great works of the past. Pastiche differs from parody in that pastiche isn’t making fun of the works it imitates – however, the tone of pastiche is often humorous.

A good example of a pastiche is Sophie Hannah's 'The Monogram Murders', which is her take from Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot.

[Image ID: A book cover of 'The Monogram Murders' by Sophie Hannah. End ID.]

Although this was a commission from Christie's estate, it's still considered as a pastiche as:

It's takes after Christie's writing style;

It is set in the early years of Poirot's career (1929), which is still within the time frame that the author wrote him in;

It features Poirot and;

It pays respect to Christie in a sense that it stays true to her (Christie) characters and way of storytelling.

Meanwhile, our good and slightly unreliable friend Wikipedia defines fanfiction as:

. . . is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual property from the original creator(s) as a basis for their writing. [It] ranges from a couple of sentences to an entire novel, and fans can both keep the creator's characters and settings and/or add their own. [ . . . ] [It] can be based on any fictional (and sometimes non-fictional) subject. Common bases for fanfiction include novels, movies, bands, and video games.

To avoid any copyright infringement issues if I ever use a popular fanfic in the fandom, we'll use my (unfinished and unpopular) Sherlock Wattpad fic, 'Play Pretend'. You can read it here.

[Image ID: The second self-made book cover of Blessie/shezzaspeare's 'Play Pretend'. End ID]

Why is it considered a fanfiction and not a pastiche?

It takes after an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes (BBC Sherlock) which is a TV show, not the ACD canon itself;

The author (in this case myself) uses her own writing style and does not take after the original story's style;

Although it is set well in modern-day London and after Season 4, it also features scenes decades before the actual fanfic is set and outside of London;

I added a considerable number of characters, i.e. siblings to canon characters;

I had my own take some of the canon characters' personality especially after the events of Sherrinford;

It is written by a fan – myself. It is a work of fan labour and;

It is only a work of fanon, and isn't likely going to be considered by the show as its writing style is different from the actual show.

To put it simply, you can have more freedom in a fanfiction as it does not necessarily restrict you to follow or take after the original stories. Alternate universes (AUs) such as Unilock and Teenlock are perfect examples of this thing.

So can a pastiche be classified as fanfiction? Yes.

Can a fanfiction be classified as pastiche? Not all the time.

What's the difference? While yes, they share the basics, pastiche is technically leans more onto the original work's fundamental elements whereas fanfiction is a broader range of works inspired by the original work but doesn't necessarily follow all or any of its fundamental elements.

In order for us to understand it more, I'll give another example.

[Image ID: The 'Enola Holmes' title card (upper left) and Henry Cavill as its Sherlock holmes (upper right). Underneath it is a a scene from the opening titles of BBC Sherlock (lower left) and Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes in A Scandal In Belgravia. (lower right) End ID]

Most of you are familiar with these 21st-century adaptations of Holmes: the 2020 adaptation of Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books and BBC Sherlock, which needs no further explanation – but for those who don't know, it's basically Holmes and the gang if they were alive today. I specifically chose these two as they are the ones that I believe would get my points across best. Though both are considered as wonderful pastiches with a well-rounded cast and awesome visuals, if we break them down bit by bit, we'll see which one is more of a pastiche and which one is more of a fanfic. (Yes, I know they're both screen adaptations. However, as Enola Holmes was based on the books and BBC Sherlock's fanfiction has the show's scenes written out in most fanfics, hear me out.)

They share these characteristics of a pastiche:

They feature characters from the Canon (Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, and Lestrade);

They have additional characters added by the writers (Including but not limited to Molly Hooper, Eurus Holmes, and Philip Anderson for BBC Sherlock while Enola Holmes has Lord Tewkesbury, Eudoria Holmes, and Enola herself) and;

They pay respect to the original Canon as their stories are based on the cases (BBC Sherlock) or simply what was going on around them (Enola Holmes).

They also share these characteristics of a fanfic:

They are made by enthusiasts of Sherlock Holmes (Moffat has called himself and Mark Gatiss 'Sherlock Holmes geeks', while Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books are not just one or two but six);

They follow a common trope (we'll discuss these tropes in the following episodes) that goes on in the fandom (Sherlock's Sister & Modern AU)

They are based on a fictional subject (Sherlock Holmes);

They used characters and story elements that are copyrighted by the author/author's estate (fun fact: prior to the production of Enola Holmes, the Conan Doyle Estate filed a lawsuit against Springer & Netflix over Sherlock's emotions since he was more 'sympathetic' than he was portrayed in the Canon – this was later dismissed by both parties) and;

Their writing styles don't necessarily follow ACD's.

Despite these similarities, there are very obvious differences between the two that separates them from being a pastiche and a fanfiction.

Enola Holmes embodies pastiche more as it doesn't stray far away from the original elements of the Canon. It's still set in Victorian England. While Springer added characters of her own and definitely twisted the Canon to suit her series, she didn't necessarily place them out of the social construct that was going on around the characters. It follows ACD's writing style more as Enola Holmes' setting still remains within the Canon's original setting.

Meanwhile, we can safely say that BBC Sherlock is a work of fanfiction. While it did give us The Abominable Bride, the main series focused on Holmes and Watson in 21st-century England, which is drastically different from Victorian England. There are phones, black cabs, and cellphones — things which ACD Sherlock Holmes doesn't have. It also diverted from the Canon in the characters themselves, which is mostly seen in the names: Henry Baskerville became Henry Knight, Charles Augustus Milverton became Charles Augustus Magnussen, the H in Dr Watson's name stood for Hamish and Sherlock's full name is actually William Sherlock Scott Holmes. They also changed the personalities of some Canon characters: Mary was actually an ex-assassin, Mrs Hudson was an exotic dancer who drove a kick-ass sports car, Irene Adler is a dominatrix, to name a few. Moffat and Gatiss created a world of their own featuring the characters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, which is really what most of us fanfic writers do with Mofftiss' rendition of Holmes.

In conclusion: while pastiche and fanfiction could have been the same thing, they're actually not. There's more to them that just printed fanfiction or pastiche e-books, and we all should take some time to see and observe them in a closer perspective.

And that's it for our first episode! I hope you enjoyed it. It was a lot fun for me to write this, especially now that I'm only starting. I would also like to note that while intensive research has been done on this series, some parts of this comes from my own observation and opinion, which may vary from yours. I am very much open to criticism, as long as it is said in a polite and civil manner. I'm still young, and to be educated as I go is something that could really help me with this series.

Like and reblog this you like it. It helps out a lot. Be sure to follow me as well and the tags underneath if you want to see more of TSoF.

See you soon!

Blessie presents – The Science of Fanfiction: A Study In Sherlock (2021) • Next

Follow me! • My Carrd | My YouTube Channel

SOURCES • Pinterest, Google Images, Wikipedia, Literary Terms, Conan Doyle Estate, Definitions, The Sherlock Holmes Book, and Google

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lunatic-fandom-space · 3 years

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Alright, Period Cramps just set in and Im looking for songs anyway so Im gonna be listening to every RWBY Song (V1-V7) in chronological order and rank them, starting with the worst. Lets go!

Caffeine: Thank god the team with the Nazi-based leader has the shittiest song so far.

Celebrate: Why tf is this here

Shine: Ehhhh. I dont really know why but the vibes were all off, somehow. The fact that really dislike Jaune (and as an extension, Arkos) doesn't help either.

Forever Fall: This song was 5 minutes long and it felt like 20

Brand New Day: I barely even registered that

Fear: not the worst

Lets Get Real: Either Im too tired or the songs are getting worse

War: Im ranking this one higher because it wasnt over 4 minutes

Bmblb: All the love songs are so generic

Dream Come True: Im listening to all these songs in the form of Lyric Videos and the art used in this one made me think 'Oh, a Jaune Song... Great. Well, maybe we'll get Jaune pining after Phyrrah now! Yknow, to balance it out. A cute lil song of him pining for a nice girl might me like him a bit more!' and guess what. It wasnt that. It was another Arkos Song from Phyrrahs perspective. AND this one had unnecessary Girl-Hate towards Weiss! For no reason! The only reason its above Shine is because they atleast got the vibes right this time.

Not Fall In Love With You: I think Im just not a big fan of the love songs.

Boop: It was pretty cute but nothing to write home about

Until The End: slow piano

Touch The Sky: Its not that bad, its just that Im tired and this song is too goddamn long

This Time (From Shadows II): A just fine song for a shitty arc

I Burn: I liked fine, until they started rapping.

Like Morning Follows Night: I thought this was gonna be one of the better love songs, then he started rapping.

Smile: All this does is make me question how Ilia was in the wrong even more. Sounded alright though.

The Triumph: Eh, pretty unremarkable opening for an unremarkable volume

This Will Be The Day: A very promising start! There's honestly not much to say here

From Shadows: It was fine. I liked the overall sound but the lyrics and the singing are just a bit too edgy for me.

Bad Luck Charm: Someone in the comments under the lyrics video said "looks like someone found his middleschool poetry" and honestly, yeah.

I May Fall: Hey, yknow how the FoB was apparently meant to happen in Volume 1? Yeah. Overall, I thought it was pretty alright. (You can probably already tell that Im not too big of a fan of the louder, more energetic songs so far.....

Trust Love: This is by no means a problem I have with only this song, but I hate how theyre all like "oh this isnt some FaIrYtAlE kid, this is real n dark n shit" as if RWBY isnt the least dark and least subversive story Ive seen in recent time

Rising: Alright but unremarkable

Miracle: Another alright but unremarkable one. At this point I feel like listening to these songs is frying my brain

Ignite: I was just gonna say its an alright Yang Song but that rap...

Big Metal Shoe: I can appreciate some fairy tale references

Gold: The chorus got a bit repetitive but I thought it was pretty cute

Home: Another cute lil family song! This one was kinda long though

Lionized: I really appreciate the vibe of this song

All Our Days: Adorable! I didnt really expect a Taiyang Song but this was pretty nice

Sacrifice: Not really much go say about this one, I thought it was fine

Neon: I feel like I just got aggressively flexed on in the nicest, yet most condescending way possible

Lusus Naturae: Very edgy, but in a way that I can appreciate more

Red Like Roses I: I really like the sound of this one! I kinda wish we had more lyrics, but this was the song used in the Red Trailer so Im assuming it was made to compliment the action more than anything. At the start and end there was this series of notes, that Im assuming is gonna be the Leitmotiv? Either way, Im curious how theyll use it

All Things Must Die: I feel like this song is definitely at its best during the slower bits

Lets Just Live: First of all, I cant believe they live-laugh-loved us. They kept mentioning like, stories and how 'this isnt your TYPICAL fairytale', I could practically feel the writers being like "Huh, huuuuuuuh? Arent we CLEVER? Yes we are, yes we are!" But other than it was mostly fine. A bit long, maybe.

Armed And Ready: Pretty alright Yang Song, I felt like it was just a bit too long

It's My Turn: Not much to say, I thought it was a fine Weiss Song

Nevermore: I think its good

Wings: I really enjoyed this song! Caseys voice is lovely and I think its a very good Blake Song

Indomitable: I liked this one, but I feel like its mainly because the line "the spirit is indomitable" reminds of Flame from VRAINS

When It Falls: This song is trying very hard to convince you that RWBY is Dark Now. And given that Im pretty sure this is V3s opening, I guess it fits. Oh well, it still sounded pretty nice.

One Thing: A real slappin song thats going straight to my YGO-playlist as well

All That Matters: Very neat song about Yang's conflicting feelings on Blake's return. Shame theyre literally not conveyed at all in the show.

Die: Very agressive title, but okay. I also enjoyed this one, who wouldve guessed. I love this whole vibe of Desperate Heroism In A World In Ruin, yknow? Its there in Time To Say Goodbye and Red Like Roses II (two of my favourite songs so far) too. Though it is quite dissapointing that the show never really matched it.

Hero: I dont get how people can look at this and go "yeah, Ironwood was clearly always a tyrant who never even remotely cared for others". Also Caleb Hyles my beloved

Time To Say Goodbye: Another very nice song! I also think the foreshadowing in the third verse (yknow the slow one) was quite well done. The only real issue is, that the plot point its foreshadowing is stupid as hell

The Path To Isolation: Why is Weiss a better character in her songs?

Divide: This song is trying very hard to convince you that RWBY is Dark Now pt 2. It is a banger though, so its fine.

Mirror Mirror: Funfact: This was technically the first RWBY-Thing Ive ever consumed! A Youtuber named Strawbelly made a german cover of this song (and the songs from the other trailers, I believe) and it was one of my favourites for a while. Ive also already listened to some of Weiss' other songs and I remember enjoying them too. I can definitely already tell that I prefer Caseys voice in the slower songs, so I really hope this keeps up

This Life Is Mine: Yoooooooooo, Caseys voice was amazing in this one(especially at the very start)! This is one of the Weiss Songs I listened to before I even watched RWBY and what can I say, I loved it back then and I love it now

I'm The One: Oh, this was absolutely lovely. For the first few seconds I thought I wouldnt like this one, but its a banger! I love the lyrics too, theyre very clever I think

Red Like Roses II: DUDE, I adored this! I did not expect there to be lyrics for Summer at all and I was so pleasently surprised! Sandra's voice was lovely, and I really hope I'll get to hear her again. But on a slightly more negative note, I feel like this is really where the whole 'RWBYs Songs Characterize The Protagonists In A More Compelling Way Than The Show Does'-Problem starts.

I originally wanted to write some kind of conclusion but Im tired and wanna read angst fics. Have a good night!

#rwby #rwby review

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godlydolans · 4 years

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Something Borrowed {e.d.}

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N was the woman Ethan Dolan cheated on his wife with and between the wife and the mistress, the wife always wins. Well, three years later, the wife is no longer alive and Ethan has recently found out he has a son with the woman he had left.

Warning: Angst and a confusing plot.

A/N: Guys, I am so sorry for this mess of a fic. I've been building this universe in my head for almost a year but I seriously can't write so please enjoy whatever abomination I've written down and do feel free to ask me any questions you may have about the plot, characters, etc. I know I haven't done a good job explaining everything in this fic.

At 9 o’clock on Christmas night, Y/N found herself in Elijah’s room, somehow squeezing her form into his bed with him tucked into her left side while Irina was laying her head on Y/N’s right side. Y/N couldn’t quite fit into the bed which was meant for her three year old little boy, but she still managed. Her legs dangled over the edge and she basically had to lay Irina on top of her in order to fit all three of them together but she really didn’t mind.

“And finally, they got Cinderella to try on the shoe.” Her son didn’t like to go to bed without hearing a story from her. Elijah was very much like her in that aspect, he loved hearing stories just as much as he loved telling them. When Y/N was young, her grandma was the person who’d tell her all these exotic tales before she’d go to sleep. Since her son didn’t have a grandma until recently, Y/N took on the role of the storyteller, reading baby books to him ever since he was in her womb. Usually, Elijah didn’t ask to hear princessy tales because he had already heard lol of them so Y/N always did her research on new stories so she could deliver her son with stories he’d never heard before. But since his beloved sister was spending the night for the first time and it was her wish to hear Cinderella’s story, Y/N launched right into it. “And guess what?”

Irina’s little head popped up from Y/N’s arm and she gasped, her blue eyes wide in wonder. “The shoe fit her?!”

“Yes!” She answered with equal enthusiasm. “The shoe fit her perfectly because it was made especially for her by her fairy godmother, you know?”

“And so the Prince married her?” Asked Elijah, making Y/N turn her head to look at her son. He had heard the tale many times but the smile he wore on his face at this part of the story always made her heart happy. Her precious boy always beamed with joy when poor Cinderella finally got her happy ending. Elijah was a sucker for happy endings.

Much like she used to be when she was his age.

“Yeah babe, the Prince was informed by his soldiers that they found his Cinderella and he came to her house in his white horse, took her to his Palace and made her his Queen.” Y/N smiled, pulling Elijah closer to her. The temperature outside had dropped below freezing. Snow could be seen falling from the sky, through the glass window the curtains of which were not drawn completely.

“And she lives happily ever after?” Irina grinned, hope laced into every word.

“And she lived happily ever after.” Y/N confirmed with a smile on her own face.

“The Prince was handsome, Y/N?” Was Irina’s next question.

“He was very handsome, babe. And he was very kind-hearted. He loved Cinderella and he never let anyone hurt her ever again.”

“He was handsomer than my daddy?” Irina stared up at y/n with wide, inquisitive eyes and Y/N’s heart sank.

Was he 'handsomer' than her daddy? Y/N looked at the curly hair on top of Irina’s head and immediately got reminded of the times she spent with Irina’s daddy’s head on her bosom while she lazily ran her fingers through his curls. She looked at Elijah and the hazel eyes he fixed on her made her remember all those nights she spent talking to his daddy about anything and everything, wrapped up in her white sheets and his strong arms. Her son looked heartbreakingly similar to his father. Irina had bits and pieces of her mother’s features in her, but Elijah almost didn’t possess any physical features from Y/N.

It was something that had made her cry overwhelmed tears when she’d first held him in her arms after bringing him into the world. Ethan was etched into every feature of her son. That fact just made pushing his memories out of her head that much more difficult. She still managed to do it though and she is proud of that fact.

“He was handsome like your daddy, sweetheart.” Y/N settled for the simple answer. She didn’t want to tell Irina that the Prince was more handsome than her father. That might have started an argument if she’d have gotten offended. Also, Y/N didn’t want to say yes to a question like that because if she was being honest with herself, there really could be no one more handsome than Ethan. Yes, there could be people just as handsome as him, but not more handsome than him.

Elijah was slowly dozing off beside Y/N and Irina had yawned twice since the story ended. They had had a long day today. It was Christmas, after all. Elijah had been the happiest little munchkin the whole day, spending his first Christmas with his father and his family. A happy Elijah meant a hyper Elijah. He had been so hyper the whole day, the poor boy had exhausted himself by the time dinner rolled around.

“Y/N?” Irina whispered, her hand came up to Y/N’s cheek and she turned the older woman’s face to look down at her. Y/N raised an eyebrow and smiled at Irina’s cute gesture. Y/N hadn’t known the little girl that long, but she noticed how Irina liked to hold people’s faces while talking to them. It was like she didn’t want the eye contact to break. She didn’t like it when people looked elsewhere while talking to her. “You are very pretty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at those words.

“Like a princess. And I like your voice.” The little girl was smiling with her eyes and she looked exactly like her mother when she smiled. Y/N’s heart squeezed painfully at the resemblance. This little girl was adorable and she liked Y/N. If only she knew how much her mother had hated Y/N, she wouldn’t be smiling up at her with twinkling eyes.

Irina would hate her too.

Y/N was no princess.

Blinking back the tears that were slowly gathering into her eyes, Y/N cleared her throat and managed to push out a small smile. Hers wasn’t as genuine as Irina’s. Then again, she wasn’t an innocent little girl like Irina.

“Thank you, Irina. You are really pretty too.” Y/N brushed her curly hair back and kissed her forehead. “And it’s time to sleep now, okay?” Irina nodded. “If you need anything, come to my room.”

Giving a sleeping Elijah a kiss good night, Y/N slipped out of bed and covered the little kids with Elijah’s blanket. Turning the lights off, she turned for the door but halted when she found Ethan leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed at his chest and a small smile on his lips. Y/N blushed to the root of her hair. “Ethan?”

He pushed himself off the doorframe and began walking toward her. “Just wanted to say good night to the kiddos.”

Y/N nodded, stepping aside so he could get to Irina. She watched silently as he leaned down and kissed the side of Irina’s head, causing her to smile and kiss his cheek in return.

“Good night, princess.”

“Good night, Daddy!”

Ethan then walked over to Elijah’s side and gave his forehead a kiss. Y/N curled her arms around herself, the tears coming back up. She had never thought her baby boy would ever get to experience a father’s love. She didn’t think he would even get to meet Ethan. Watching Ethan with Elijah never failed to make her eyes water. Ethan was smiling down at his children, watching Irina turn to her side and throw her arm around Elijah as she closed her eyes. He thought he would break down in tears right then and there.

“I love you two.”

Feeling like an outsider watching Ethan interact with his children, Y/N quietly exited the room and decided to distract herself with cleaning up the table and doing the dishes. It worked for some time before Ethan decoded to join her there too. She didn’t even have to turn and look to know he was in the kitchen. She could sense his presence, feel his molten honey gaze on her back. Closing her eyes, she sighed.

She had spent three long years mastering the art of blocking off each and every thought of Ethan’s from her mind. When he had left her, it had felt like her whole world had stopped. She hadn’t been the woman she used to be before Ethan and she certainly was not the woman she was with Ethan. He had left and he had forever changed a part of her. It felt like he’d almost flipped the switch of emotions in her when he’d left her. The only person she loved from that day till today, was her son.

Yet, she still managed to sense his presence whenever he entered a room. She didn’t like that one bit.

Without lifting her gaze from the bowl she was cleaning, Y/N said, “Thank you.”

“For?” Ethan inquired. She had put her hair up in a bun which made her slender neck look longer from the back. Y/N had always been stunning but she somehow got even more beautiful in all these years she spent away from Ethan.

“You know what for.” Y/N turned just enough to flash him a barely there smile. It took him by surprise because although it was barely a smile, her lips had still tipped up and that was the most he had gotten from her recently. Y/N Y/L/N didn’t smile. Not at Ethan, she didn’t. Ethan dared to walk closer to her until he was standing beside her. “You didn’t have to bring Elijah back but you did.”

Y/N wasn’t close with her parents and she had no siblings so she and Elijah only had each other to celebrate Christmas with. Her baby boy never had any family besides herself in all the three years of his life because his father had left her before she even knew she was pregnant with his child. She had tried to tell Ethan about her pregnancy after she had found out but he had never picked up her calls. After giving birth to Elijah all alone, no one there to sit with her and hold her hand as she went through the worst pain of her life, Y/N had given Ethan one last call.

That one had been picked up but not by Ethan. It had been his wife on the line. The same wife he had cheated on, with her. Y/N had never called his phone ever again.

Three years later, life so cruelly brought Ethan back to her doorstep and he found out he had another child besides his precious daughter. Y/N let Ethan into her sons life because he was his father, he had the right to know his son. She didn’t want to take away Elijah’s chance of knowing his father either, so with Ethan came his extended family and Elijah finally had a big family.

He adored his uncle and aunt and, oh lord, did he love his grammy Lisa with all his heart. Today was the first Christmas Elijah was to spend with Ethan and his family and Y/N had allowed Ethan to keep him for the day.

There was no chance of Y/N tagging along for the celebrations because none of Ethan’s family liked her. Why would they? She had been the other woman in Ethan’s marriage.

The thought made her wince.

Y/N had been totally prepared to spend Christmas alone but late in the afternoon, the doorbell had rung and she had opened the door to a very hyper Elijah, a smiling Irina and Ethan wishing you a merry Christmas.

He had brought Elijah back for her but when he and Irina began to leave, Elijah started crying. He had been so happy all day, Y/N didn’t want to be the reason for his tears so she asked Ethan to stay.

And now here they were.

“I couldn’t take away your son from you on Christmas day.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.

Her eyes came up to his for a split second before she looked back down. Ethan wanted to take both her hands in his and place a kiss on each hand. He wanted to take her face in his hands and make her look into his eyes. He wanted to lean in and kiss her rosy lips until she smiled.

She always used to smile when he used to kiss her. Ever since she came back into his life, Ethan had barely seen her smile if she wasn’t directing it at her son. It pained him to see how hollow her eyes always looked when she wasn’t looking at her son.

He had broken something in her when he’d told her he couldn’t continue to see her because he’d gotten his wife pregnant, three years ago. He had seen the colour drain from her face that day when he’d told her he was going to mend his marriage and the first step in that direction was breaking things off with her. She hadn’t said anything then, just like she doesn’t say anything now.

Ethan wished she would let him mend her. He wanted to fix what he had broken all those years ago. He desperately wanted back the Y/N who had mended him when his strained relationship with his wife had broken him.

It’s ironic how Y/N came into his life when he was at his lowest and she helped him feel again. She offered him a shoulder to lean on when he desperately needed one, she offered him her beautiful kind smiles, her welcoming arms, her encouraging words, her heart.

It’s funny how Iris never did.

And it’s sad how he threw it all in her face and left.

“Y/N,” Ethan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a blue velvet box. She frowned at him when he extended it to her. “Merry Christmas.”

Y/N was looking at him with confusion swimming in her eyes. It was like she couldn’t fathom why he’d get her something for Christmas. God, what had he done to her? She questioned every little thing people did for her, like she could simply not stomach the fact that people could still offer her things without asking her for something in return.

“You didn’t have to do this.” She spoke barely above a whisper and her hands remained at her sides. She didn’t once try to take the present from Ethan.

“I wanted to.” He admitted, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed in nervousness. His cheeks were feeling hot.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“You have given me Elijah. What gift can be more precious than that?” Ethan genuinely didn’t deserve to slide into her and Elijah’s life as easily as she let him. He had honestly thought Y/N would be difficult about him spending time with her son. She had single handedly raised him thus far, Ethan had never even known he had a child apart from Irina and it wasn’t Y/N’s fault he hadn’t known. It had been him who had ignored all her calls when she’d tried to tell him. He had thought she would just ask him to see her again, that if he got back in contact with her, she would somehow convince him to fall back into her and he couldn’t let that happen. He had promised Iris that Y/N had been a mistake and that he would never do anything to jeopardise the relationship he had with her again.

Well, Iris was now buried in St. Jude’s Cemetery and Y/N ?

It seemed like he had killed a part of the woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Right now, she was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t comprehend. She looked pretty indifferent still, but those eyes held a spark in them. And then she spoke what was on her mind and Ethan’s heart shattered. “Are you giving me this as a payment for having Elijah and and raising hi-“

Ethan’s eyes widened and he instantly dropped his hand back to his side. “What?! Y/N, is this how low you think of me? I would never-I just wanted to give you a Christmas present, that was it.”

“Why though? I’m not your family? I’m not your friend? I’m basically a stranger to yo-“ There it was. That flicker of emotion in her eyes. She didn’t look indifferent anymore. She looked angry.

“A stranger?” Ethan whispered in disbelief, every word that came out of her mouth slicing a gaping wound into his heart. “After everything we’ve had-“

Ethan noticed how Y/N locked her jaw at his words and crossed her arms across her chest. A defensive stance, a brace to protect her heart.

“What have we had, Ethan? Huh?”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll tell you. We were nothing but fuck buddies.”

Ethan winced, bile rising to his throat. His fist tightened around the velvet box exactly how Y/N’s words tightened an invisible fist around his heart.

“We fucked and you used me to numb the pain your alcoholic wife caused you and when you didn’t need me anymore after her recovery, you left. Simple as that.” Y/N’s throat felt chocked up, revisiting the darkness that had started in her heart and slowly spread everywhere, both inside and out. She gave him everything she had, went against everything she had taught herself about self preservation, brought all her walls down so he could enter and ruin her. He did exactly that. “I was the other woman and women like us get exactly what I got. I got you for a few months and I dared to forget that you would always belong to your wife. You did the right thing, going back to her. You did the right thing by not leaving the woman you married for the whore you cheated on her with.”

“Stop!” Ethan saw red when she called herself a whore. She didn’t even flinch, didn’t even blink. She just stared at him with the same indifferent look in her eyes that haunted him in his dreams. Those eyes held the entire universe once. Now, there wasn’t even a flicker of light in them.

What had he done? Had he really made her feel like she deserved what she got? Did she really think herself to be a whore? Ethan couldn’t even bare to think of the word and there she was, saying it like it meant nothing.

“Ethan. You don’t have to do all this for me.” Y/N pointed to the present he’d bought her. She didn’t even see what the box held inside it, she didn’t want to. “When you said you wanted to be in Elijah’s life, I understood we’d have to see each other sometimes. I’m his mother, you’re his father, that’s the only relationship we have. You don’t have to build another one.”

Ethan just stood there, stunned into silence while Y/N just turned right back to the sync and began loading up the dishes into the dishwasher. He couldn’t believe this was the same woman who was telling bedtime stories to his kids just a few minutes ago. She was a different person around Elijah, even Irina. It was like she only turned on her emotions for the kids and the rest of the world got her ice cold glare.

He didn’t realise he had been standing beside her, looking at her like he was trying to look for traces of the old her, but he got snapped out of his train of thoughts when she cut him a cold look and announced, “I’ve prepared the guest room for you. There are blankets and pillows and two water bottles. Ask me if you need anything else, I’ll be in my room.”

In direct words, she meant to say, “Leave me the fuck alone.” So he did just that. With a heavy heart, Ethan pocketed the necklace he had bought her, feeling hurt beyond measure that she didn’t even open the box and see it. Then again, what did he expect from a woman he screwed over so bad? He stole one last glance at her, hoping to find her looking at him but she was still very much engrossed in the dishes. Ethan pressed his lips together and made his way into the guest bed room.

That’s what he was in her house. A guest.

What had he done?

#ethan dolan imagines #grayson dolan imagines #something borrowed #forgive me for this abomination #🙉

225 notes · View notes

jjpmoans · 4 years

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Fairy Lights | Jaebeom

Merry late Christmas and Happy New Year @twinmoles. Hi, I’m Nik and yes I’m your secret Santa. I’m so sorry for scaring you about our first interaction and again, sorry for all the awkwardness. I’m a writer so I figured it is good if I can gift you a fic. I hope you like this fic and I’m sorry that we don’t interact as much. It was good to talk to you, I hope we can still be friends in the future. May 2020 be kind to you! Also special thanks to @ahgaseloveletters for arranging the project. May god bless you guys! And to my fellow mutuals and followers, Happy New Year!

Word count : 3.1k

The sound of keys jingling outside your room makes you flicker your eyes away, just in time as Jaebeom walks in. Giving him a brief smile, you turn your attention back to the movie played, relieved now you know who's home. To be honest you don't have to wonder who because the only person who share the room with you is Jaebeom but who knows in case of any intruders.

"What are you watching?" dropping a kiss on top of your head, Jaebeom proceed to undress his coat and hang it on the coat hanger.

"Hmmm, Searching." you reply halfheartedly, eyes fixed on the screen. The amount of concentration you have been giving makes Jaebeom chuckles in adoration, the spot beside you dip and you feel his head on your lap.

"May I know why you are on my bed instead of yours?" you heard him but you ignore, like he doesn't know how you love his bed better than yours. Granted, your beds are just the same, perhaps the difference is presence of the bed owner instead.

"Is it good?" he asks, face appearing from below you. Absentmindedly, you hold his cheek and another hand on his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. "Hey, give me some attention too."

"Well, I can't say it's good or not if you keep distracting me like this." you proceed to ruffle his hair, Jaebeom hisses in return but keep his position on your lap. "But all I see now is her father is a mistake. He doesn't even know his daughter but act like he knows her."

"He's unbelievable."

"Her father looks stressed."

"Well if your beloved one goes missing, aren't you stressed?" you reply, still running your fingers along his locks.

"I won't even you out of my sight, let alone go missing."

Your attention of the screen diverts, straight to the man below you. He's staring at you, unreadable gaze with a hint of fondness. Your lips curls into a smile. "Is that a way to say you love me Jaebeom?"

"Well, if you put it that way-- probably I'm just very fond of you." joking, of course he loves you. But you won't think that love as a love, instead you'll take it as friendly love.

You know he is too limited to love you.

You hit his shoulder lightly, scolding him for taking your eyes off the movie and now you need to rewind the scene so you let him snuggles against you while you try your best to focus on the movie.

Except you can't.

With Jaebeom sleeping on your lap, you're forced to think again the complicated relationship of you two. Instead of being normal roommates, you guys have gotten the title so mixed that now it involves your feeling too. You went from sleeping separated to inseparable, in bed or outside the room. Each day you wake up tangled between Jaebeom's hold and his legs all over you, back pressed against his chest.

On other days where he is extra affectionate, he'll shower you with kisses to wake you up instead of shaking your shoulder. On sunny days, he'll bring you on walks and ice creams while on rainy days you'll be huddled under your blanket, head on his arm while you both fixed your attention on some movies.

It has become complicated ever since Jaebeom saw you broke down over some heartless fuckboys who was one of those he knows. Jaebeom himself has a big reputation in the college, listed as one of the big shot if anyone can ever score him. However, Jaebeom is well known as someone who will never bring back girls to his room, neither do he go to the girls' room. In short, he doesn't do one night stands. That makes him even more interesting, countless of girls have been trying to the only one in his bed.

But they just don't know.

You're the only girl he ever let on his bed.

On the day you broke down, Jaebeom was there to pick up every pieces of you, mending it back by hugging you tight, consoling you with promises that aren't empty. He promised to protect you, to hold you and to always be with you, nonetheless how busy he is.

So there he is, fixing your breakfast every morning, though it's just cutting some apples and making sandwiches, he does it for you every day.

The first time he did that, you almost die of laughter because who knows, the big shot Jaebeom has a heart of gold?

Please, don't mention when you almost have a heart attack when you heard a faint meow and wake up to grey kitten kneading your blanket, which almost went flying if it wasn't for Jaebeom's fast reflex catching the poor tiny paws in the air.

Everything about Jaebeom is fascinating. How he lives absolutely opposite to what he painted his mask outside the room. How people picture him as someone who enjoys party and only go private parties where actually, he rarely attends parties except from the other six close friends of his. How people always picture him sexually and disgustingly trying to get inside his pants while all he cares are strawberry milk and his kittens and you.

Never have you thought you'll be important to Jaebeom.

But never have you thought you want to be more important than just friends.

Feelings are complicated, they grew out of fondness. What used to be normal now seems really personal, the way Jaebeom will drop a kiss on either your cheeks or your forehead or on top of your head when he's heading out, or the way he looks at your lovingly whenever you rant about your day. How his eyes twinkles whenever you jump in excitement when his kittens roll over on the carpet.

Everything in him makes your dizzy. You feel over-loved. You feel overfed.

So you don't dare to ask for more because you don't know, how well can this tiny heart stands. One wrong move and Jaebeom will be out of your life, forever.

_____________

"Where are we going, Jaebeom?" your breath hitch when you heard the sound of owls and countless of cricking of crickets. You are about to turn around but Jaebeom stops you from doing so, knowing you will freak out if you see something you shouldn't see.

"Just a little more walking, princess. Now stop grumbling and start walking." walking is definitely okay but now the slope becomes higher and to the point of it’s wearing you out.

"This better be good or I'll pushing you off the hill when we arrive, Jaebeom." you curse under your breath, running out of oxygen though the night seems breezy with lots of wind. "That is if we ever reach the place. Is this place non-existent Jaebeom? Because I can't see anything- oh my god."

Jaebeom knows you've reach his surprise for you because you are frozen on the spot, amazed by the brightness of the fairy lights.

"Jaebeom! This is so pretty!!" you scream, turning to him and running into his arms in return of his thoughtfulness. You pretty much crashing on his chest, knocking the breath out of his lung with your beaming smile and excited laugh.

"Careful- ooofff. You're so excited huh?" he laughs as you nod, skipping even to match his pace, getting closer to the well decorated hut. Now that you are standing right in front of it, you are more amazed by the decoration.

Fairy lights are already out of question because the hut is literally built up from lights all over the place. Between the wooden pillars are strings, clipped on it are pictures of both of you, together in every picture. From the first year of you being official roommates to the year you become unofficial bed mates and to the year where everything becomes more complicated.

One thing that you can spot in each pictures is you, smiling wider than usual. You know you were happy. And you know that Jaebeom makes you happy.

"Come on sweetheart. Go sit near the box." then you realise that there is a black box situated in the middle of the hut, sitting alone, probably waiting for you to open it.

You look at Jaebeom, waiting for his signal to let you be the clumsy girl who just climb the hut not-so -girly. Luckily you're wearing a pair of jeans and hoodie, not a dress. Jaebeom nods, burst out laughing after seeing you hurriedly discarding your shoes and crawling towards the box.

"This is for me?" you beam in excitement, eyes inspecting the black box. Jaebeom, always being the cheesy one, giving you a stretched smile.

"Of course, sweetheart. For you." he takes a seat at the edge, watching you inspecting the box curiously. "Are you ready to open your present?"

You nod eagerly, having so much adrenaline in your blood. Just as you pull the cover open, the whole hut goes black and your scream echoes on the hill.

Not because of the black out.

But because the black box is an explosion box with more pictures of you and Jaebeom and fairy lights. The only light illuminating your face is coming from the box, you gape in awe you watch the perfectness of the gift laying in front of you.

"You did this for me?"

Jaebeom is now sitting opposite of you, watching you with interest.

"Oh my god- Jaebeom!" you want to cry. Attached in the box are the pictures where you are chilling on your bed, one of it is best described as just woke up to utter disappointment. You remember that was when Jaebeom pranked you by saying you were late to class when it was in the middle of the night. However, it was a fail prank because he didn't know that you're the type to check the watch before waking up.

You can't express how touched you are. So this is where Jaebeom has disappeared to. You thought he was busy going on parties at Jackson's but instead, he's busy making the explosion box.

"It was hard but luckily Bambam has the hand of an Art God. He forced me to mention him since he said you won't believe I did this all alone." you chuckle at his attempt to hide his embarrassment. "But I still did most of it."

Your hand reaches to cup his cheeks, caressing it softly. "I know."

He grins, ushering you to open the second layer of the explosion box.

You give him a look; he is more excited than you are to un-box the gift. "How many layers does this explosion box have?"

"I think around uh-- five?"

"That many? Bambam's right. There is no way you can do this alone."

"Heyy!" you snort, however your eyes find a square shaped paper, pasted on one of the four walls of the box.

"First year of us?"

He nods, gesturing you to open the second layer.

Falling just nice on the first layer, your second layer is filled with even more pictures, one of it with a pocketed note to which you quickly open to read.

‘This year is the worse. I saw you broken apart in my arms, because of someone whom I've known a potential danger. But I never warned you, but I never thought it would be this bad. You were trembling and I were never that close to kill a person. I'll protect you, sweetheart. I promise. I protect you with all my life.’ - Jaebeom

You put down the note, eyes glimmering with tears. "Jaebeom."

"Don't give me that look- oh! Come on. I don't want you to cry! Please?" he rushes to your side, wiping away one drop that has fallen. "Oh god"

"Thank you, Jae." you press a quick kiss on his cheek while composing yourself. "The year where you break apart. Very original, Jaebeom."

"Excuse me will you stop trying to condemn me in each layer?" to that you burst out laughing, proceeding to open the next one.

"Let me guess, the year where we become bed mates? My goodness, Jaebeom. Be original!" just as you open it, a set of pictures of you and Jaebeom having selfies on bed and a picture of you hugging his kitten and a bottle of strawberry milk on your hand.

"When did you took this picture!?" you can't believe he took picture of that because he was sulking all the time. Nora didn't want to be in his lap and you stole his last strawberry milk. So he scooted further from both of you, sulking on his own. You on the other hand, were too engrossed into the movie that you don't even persuade him to cool off. "My goodness you were so childish at that time!"

"If I stole your fried chicken, you would burn the whole room." he points that out. True, you would burn him if he tried that. "Talk about being childish."

"Whatever. Can I move to the next layer?"

"Uh-"

Him hesitating is already a signal for you to stop but you go on, not realising he hesitated for a second. The fourth layer unveil, making your heart stop altogether.

'The year where everything gets complicated.'

Under it is a pocketed section, meaning there is a note meant for you. Ignoring the weirdly silent Jaebeom beside you, you reach to read the said note.

'It was messy. I wake up every morning to see you by my side sleeping soundly and so beautiful. I know what you're going to say, you're pretty even you're asleep. I can't help but wonder if you feel the same way I feel. I did everything without feeling forced. Waking up to you is the most natural thing out of everything. There were days where I wait for you to be in my arm because I feel so calm when I have you close. I know I am the one to blame, but I can't help to treat you more than just a friend. I know I shouldn't be crossing lines, but I can't stop thinking about what will happen to us when we finish college in one more month?' - Jaebeom

True, that has been on your mind since the start of the semester. Both of you are graduating soon. You only have this semester, then you're going on internship before graduating. Like him, you just don't know what will happen to you both if you keep this mess going.

"What are we going to do Jaebeom?" you slowly lift your eyes from the note, meeting his own gaze. You almost snort when you can actually see mixed feelings conveyed in his eyes. Fear of uncertainties. "What are we?"

He holds your hand, bracing himself to speak.

"I know I'm a coward who writes it down instead of saying it out loud. But I can't risk a confession because I don't want to be rejected. Deep down I want you to feel the same way and I don't have to do all the talking." You know where this is going. Your chest burns with tension and you have countless of things trying to simultaneously think inside your head.

"I love you, y/n." Breathing has never been lighter than now. It feels like all of your burden has been lifted, all your insecurities and fear has naturally dissipated into thin air. "I love you so much that I feel like I've becoming stupid for you."

"But you are stupid."

"Shush! Don't say that."

You reach to hug him tight, burying your face in his chest. "I can't believe this actually happens."

"Me neither." Jaebeom palms your hair, dropping kisses on your forehead.

"Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?"

You almost wanted to cry out of giddy and cheesiness. You swear, Jaebeom makes you curl your fingers all the time but this time, you don't seem to care. You're over the moon and you will definitely be sleeping tonight with wide grin.

"What if I say no?" you want to see to what extend he loves you. Trust you to be that clingy girl but you want to know.

He looks down, knowing you too well to fall for your trap.

"Then you have to be single for the rest of your life. I don't think there will be any guy who loves the girl who stole his last strawberry milk that his mom made specifically for him."

His laugh echoes when you quickly punch his chest and wiggle out of his grip. Pulling you onto his lap while you try to escape him, he successfully stops you by trapping your hands with his arm.

"I'm kidding, princess. You love me too much to reject me." you made a face at that but you can't deny, you have been too whipped for him to reject him. "Also, if you don't accept me, you can't open the last box."

You gasp, forgetting that there is one more box left to open. Jaebeom chortles, letting your hand to reach the last box and open it.

Nothing.

"What- Jaebeom!" irritating snorts coming from him and you want nothing other than to bite his cheeks for laughing at you.

"Here," he taps your left shoulder, making you turn to the said direction, holding his hand up in the air.

In a split second, a chain of necklace falls vertically from his fist, the pendant stops right in front of your eyes. It is silver, the pendant the shape of stars, a big star in the middle surrounded by smaller stars circling it. Your eyes dilate, shocked from the sudden reveal.

"Do you like it?" Jaebeom whispers beside your ears, creating goose bumps all over your body.

"It's beautiful, Jaebeom." you reply breathless, too many things to absorb from tonight's occasion. "Can you put it on me?"

After twists and turns, Jaebeom manages to clip the beautiful necklace without damaging it, both of you dying of laughter after he succeeds.

Now that everything is over, you scoot to the edge of the hut, leaning against Jaebeom to see the sky.

"I never thought I'll end 2019 like this."

"Neither do I."

With you in his arm, he closes the distance between you, leaning slowly to take your breath away with lips skimming just above yours before molding it to his own. It feels like two seconds but your lung is on fire that he needs to pull away before you lost consciousness.

"Happy New Year, princess."

Just as the clock strikes 12, you are snuggling in Jaebeom's arms, fireworks shooting in the sky indicating that you are now, entangled from the messiness.

Never have you thought the year will be this surprising. Never have you thought that you are Jaebeom's.

Happy new year, indeed.

——————————————————

[ Writings ]

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curekibouka · 4 years

Text

Take My Hand (Pandora Hearts one-shot)

Summary: This is the story of a child extending her hand to an irredeemable sinner, opening his eyes to a world filled with hope; and the story of a lady extending her hand to a knight who had always watched over her, making him ’see’ she had grown up. (Spoilers for Retrace 49 I guess)

A/N: This is the fic I promised a few days ago when I posted the cover art. Also this is for Day 7 (free day) of phweek2020 ^^

*This fic is also on FF.net and Quotev.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Xerxes!”

Uttering a “shhh” to a giggling voice in the tree behind him, he spun around to greet the one calling for him, “Good day, Shelly-sama~~”

Her voice was a mixture of worry, anger and frustration, “Enough with this farce! Where did you hide Sharon?”

He drawled playfully, “Whate~ver are you ta~lking about?”

“You’re not frantically searching for her, then you must know where she is.”

“Maaaaaaaybe?”

“Stop it, Xerxes, she has a sewing lesson to get to. And she just recovered from her cold, she’ll get sick again if she plays in the snow. Help me find her!”

Break cocked his head to one side as if reconsidering their actions, but he reached a conclusion almost instantly and grinned, “No.”

Shelly was genuinely taken aback for a moment, “Are you defying my command? That’s rather unusual coming from you, Xerxes.”

“Forgive me,” he bowed dramatically, “But I am Lady Sharon’s valet, and she has explicitly declared that I am not to reveal her whereabouts to anyone. I am afraid not even Shelly-sama can overrule my lady’s orders.”

“Does this warrant punishment?” he asked when she didn’t respond, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t wearing a really annoying smirk right then.

She heaved a sigh and gave him a flick on the forehead, “Don’t spoil her.”

He bursted into a fit of giggles, “Oh my, did I? But I was merely following your example, Shelly-sama.”

“You...!” she stuttered when she realised she couldn’t refute that. “Never mind! I’ll go find Sharon by myself!”

She sent him a glower before continuing to scour for her daughter.

“My lady,” Break turned to the tree after Shelly was gone, “You can come down now.”

The child leapt out of the tree with a gleeful “Woohoo!” and fell right into Break’s arms.

“My lady!” it was not nearly as much of a fun moment for the now frantic valet, “Please be careful! What would you have done had I failed to catch you?!”

“I knew you’d catch me,” she beamed innocently.

“How so?”

“Because mother would have you beheaded if you didn’t.”

He grimaced at the truth in that statement before putting her down on the ground.

“So... what do you want to do with this free time, my lady? It is not enough for us to venture out to town.”

“Ehhhhh? But why not?!” she pouted and yanked on his hand, “Let’s head out and return by dinner time! I want to have some fun after being sick for four whole days!”

“It’s exactly because you had been sick for four whole days,” he knelt down to look her in the eyes, “Shelly-sama will have me beheaded if I allowed you to fall sick yet again so carelessly.”

“She probably wouldn’t if it’s something so trivial. She doesn’t have time for this,” Sharon pouted bitterly.

He recounted how the busy Shelly hadn’t had many opportunities to check in on her sick daughter in the past few days, just when she wanted to see her the most.

In a way, Sharon playing ‘hide-and-seek’ with her mother right now was a kind of self-satisfaction. She longed to feel like her mother was devoting a great deal of attention to her.

“Where are you, my adorable girl? I’m going to tickle you once I find you!”

“No! Kevin, help me! Papa’s going to catch up to me!”

He briefly reminisced about a similar child he had once watched over, and cherished, as one would a dainty flower.

He balled his fists, “You ought to refrain from having Mistress Shelly worry so much, my lady. You and I both know good health is one luxury she never had.”

“It’ll be fine. Mother isn’t so weak. That’s just an excuse to ignore me when she’s busy.”

He kept his “If only that’s true” unsaid, because it wouldn’t make any difference.

And because they were found.

Sharon squealed in fright when her mother wrapped her in a bear hug from behind out of the blue.

“How did you realise we were back here?!” Sharon crossed her arms, “Did Xerx-niisan gave you secret signals without me hearing or something?”

“I’m your mother, I can see right through your little tricks,” Shelly gloated, stroking the child’s hair gently, “Come along, let’s go back inside.”

“I don’t want to! I don’t want my sewing lesson!” Sharon shouted and hid behind Break.

As the mother-daughter bickering continued, Break found his mind wandering off to somewhere else.

That child.

That small child.

The child he tried desperately to erase from his memory, and yet couldn’t bear to let go.

The child he had failed to protect.

But now it was as if a second chance was bestowed upon him, or a cruel repeat of events. Nevertheless, he must once again unsheathe his sword and cut down those who harm his lady.

Another small child. A child with a loving smile and a kind heart, inherited from her mother no less. A child who loved him as a brother and whom he cherished as a sister in return.

It was such a bliss to be with her...

...and it was such torture.

For every second that came to pass, he was plagued with immense dread. Such a pure, adorable, angelic child...

...what if he plunges her into a ruthless sea of crimson again?

What if these hands, soaked in the blood of one hundred and sixteen, besmirch her innocence?

Such a small, delicate flower, what if her stem goes ‘snap’ when he approached her?

The Red-eyed Specter feared few things. But this notion was sufficient to torment him with countless nightmares that seemed far more authentic than his reality. A reality he never dared so much as to even think he deserved.

He was pulled back to said reality by said child letting out a tiny scream, “Mother!”

He failed to catch Shelly when she toppled over him.

“Are you alright, Shelly-sama?” they sat in an awkward position, but he managed to bolt to his feet and offered her his hand immediately.

“I’m sorry, mother, I shouldn’t have pushed you,” Sharon apologised sheepishly.

“I’m fine,” Shelly took Break’s hand and stood up, “It really is a pain to move around in this gown. Now, Sharon, you’re all drenched with snow too. Let’s go back inside, or you really will catch a cold again.” They probably had a brief snowball fight when Break wasn’t paying attention.

The child reluctantly conceded (perhaps out of guilt after pushing her frail mother) and took her mother’s hand.

“Come on, Xerx-niisan, you too,” she then extended her other hand to him, smiling from ear to ear.

He mustn’t.

He must never allow all the filth and sins and blood on his hands to defile that small, pure, unmarred hand of hers.

He must never...!

He did.

Gingerly taking her tiny hand into his own, he gave it a light squeeze, just to make sure it was actually there and it wasn’t all just in his head.

He should’ve fled. He should’ve rejected the invitation. But he couldn’t resist this small hand as warm as a hearth in this numbing winter.

The child pranced in joy.

She twirled around to offer him a carefree grin.

With a voice as sweet as a canary, she called to him blithely.

“Kevin!”

“Xerx-niisan!”

His selfish desire, a filthy thing, led him to deny his own vileness and connect with this innocent angel.

But for the first time since he was hurled into this despair-inducing future, he felt almost as if he was... forgiven.

So he swore to never let go. He swore to never allow something like last time to happen again. This time around, he would make sure to never do anything that would make this child shed tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Years later

He might not be able to see. But he could still feel.

He could feel the tension in the air, the heaviness in the silence that he dared not interrupt, the ever so tiny sound she made when she clenched her fists and trembled.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Sharon was not going to be fine and he knew it.

How the hell could he have let Reim talk him into this?

He mentally steeled himself, for in all likelihood, she would fall to her knees and bawl, begging him to tell her that it was not true.

She stepped towards him. So he prepared himself to embrace her gently and whisper that there was no need to cry over the withering of a vile creature such as himself. Although he was fully aware that she would continue.

But something was amiss.

From the blurry silhouette of her he could barely make out, he assessed her posture. She was not hunching down, not covering her face, not clutching the sides of her dress anymore.

She was... facing him.

“Then... I suppose we have no choice,” she shattered the silence with confidence, “Prepare yourself, Break. Because I shall lead you myself, and teach you to dance step by step.”

“Come now,” she demanded with all the authority of a noble Rainsworth heiress, “Take my hand.”

The image of her extending her delicate hand in the same way all those years ago flashed before his eyes.

My lady...

Since when have you grown so tall?

Since when do you sound so mature?

Since when have you... shared such an undeniable resemblance with Shelly-sama?

He genuinely had to remind himself that it was not Shelly who stood before him with such pride and elegance.

He might not be able to see. But it did not make a difference.

Her radiance had reached his heart either way.

How could I have not noticed what a beautiful woman you have grown up to become, my beloved little lady?

Gingerly taking her hand into his own, he gave it a light squeeze, still deep in his amazement.

He smiled with a hint of sadness. He mourned how he had failed to see her as she grew, and now it was too late. But he was relieved that the warmth of her hand had never once changed over the years.

She smiled with him, guiding his hand to her waist, lacing her own on his shoulder. Gazing at his face all the while, she took a step backward, leading him forward.

Leading him forward on this beautiful and cruel and captivating and melancholic dance called life, until the day his body rot away like his eye, they would keep on dancing...

...hand in hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

#phweek2020 #pandora hearts #xerxes break #shelly rainsworth #sharon rainsworth #paindora hurts #pandora hearts fanfiction #jun mochizuki #pandora hearts fanfic #pandorahearts #pandora hearts fic #ph

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birdwonder · 4 years

Note

Hello lovely! Your writing sure leaves me all fuzzy and warm, it is just so wholesome! Note aside may I please request a scenario with Rohan (seeing as he is your pfp) and an artist s/o, but they are body painting eachother? I feel like he will enjoy painting on skin for it is very different from cloth or paper, thank you and have a good day!

|| wow, an artist s/o sure seems popular! this is my third request for one and i’m living for it. thank you so much for the praise, i can only hope that this fic and any future ones will make you feel the same ! also, Rohan is one of my favourites and i assumed the most creative jjba character would be a good ‘mascot’ for this account.

tw: body painting is typically nude, so underwear will be worn and the reader’s gender will be ambiguous, but they have a bare chest. so like ... small, nonsexual nudity ?

Rohan Kishibe | Body Painting

Rohan was not a man of intimate affection. At least, not to the degree of a tooth rotting man who waits on hand a knee for whatever their beloved may desire.

His gentle kisses on your lips and temple were short and quick in public, contrasting to how drawn out and occasionally desperate they could be in the comfort of his home. It warmed your heart like a fire place soothed someone coming in from the snow and you returned each display of affection in kind to respect his boundaries.

Reminding you that you were both his muse and the love of his life was always a top priority when he wasn’t working himself to the bone in his home studio, something you worried about but you knew pestering him about how he cared for himself would only further his stress more. You were like a deity to him, his source of inspiration for when he had nothing.

From the strands of your head to your lips’ unique shape and feel against his own, Rohan appreciated and doted on every detail your face had to offer.

Your body was no different to him as well. The form, the feel, each individual spot, scar or mark was so mesmerising. He couldn’t get enough every time he looked at you, whether you were doing a mediocre house hold chore, or trying to allure him with a sway of your hips, captivating him like a moth drawn to a flame.

With all his high praise for you, it was no surprise that the suggestion for body painting came up.

One thing that brought the two of you together was your mutual interest in art, including painting. Therefore, when he approached you with skin friendly paint and new brushes, suggesting it as your next date, you happily complied.

You could be the most modest, self-conscious person there was in the wonder but with Rohan, showing skin was never an issue because each time he saw you, a string of compliments wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. So, when it came to stripping yourself of every piece of clothing you had aside from your underwear, you had no qualms and felt no pressure.

After a short session of setting up a large sheet across the floor, both you and Rohan stood in the middle of the room in almost nothing. “Would you like to go first?” You prompted, a hand brushing up and down your goosebump covered arm from the chilled air.

“Gladly,” the man replied, unabashedly stepping forwards, his pale and surprisingly nicely toned chest in your line of sight until you looked into his eyes. Despite his terse words, you knew that he felt nothing but excitement.

He laid you down across the sheet, dead in the centre, and placed a leg on either side of your stomach, straddling your hips almost if not for his slight hovering over you. A smile ghosted onto his face as he took hold of a clean paint brush beside your head, bending down to kiss your cheek. With the silk like hairs of the brush, he swiped it gently over the other side of your face making you stifle a small laugh.

The temptation to chortle only worsened however when his chaste, gentle kisses tracked down your neck to your chest, the brush still following in his affections’ shadow which sent a track of shivers down your back. “Stay still and silent, cher, I am only getting you ready for when I start painting so you don’t move about and ruin it,” Rohan calmly instructed, not moving his head from the valley of your chest before moving down to your stomach, above your abdomen.

From there, you had managed to bite your lip and maintain half of a poker face, your loving and enamoured eyes that were following your lover ruining half of the façade.

If this was any other day, Rohan would have disregarded the paints surrounding the both of you and kiss you with such chasmic fervour that your night would seem endless and pure bliss, but for today there was one thing meant to be on his mind and it was to turn your temple of a body into a filled canvas.

His hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, thumbs pressing softly under your arm, and traced down to prompt you to extend and expose your arms outwards. “I’ll start now, so just lay back and relax. I’ll only work on your torso and arms, if anything feels wrong just tell me.”

The air you blew from your nose was a sign that you wanted to laugh a little. As cold and distant as Rohan seemed to others, he was nothing but kind and gentle with you. If you could awe at him, you would if it didn’t mean he would then whack you with some paint.

Closing your eyes and laying your head back, you listened to the sound of a brush clinking against the rim of a glass cup, presumably to wet it, and then moving against a palette. Next, you felt the thankfully not so cold tip of a brush spread paint across your chest, the movements of it seemingly side to side and clockwise circles.

Once more, you nibbled on your lower lip to prevent any jolting and laughter, fingers scrapping the sheet beneath you to contain yourself. A small hum from Rohan gave the idea that he appreciated your efforts, the familiar, mellifluous sound of a brush being cleaned resonating suddenly.

You sighed softly as he did his thing. What could you paint on him when it was your turn? A portrait of a person would seem a little peculiar, although it would work well in an abstract sort of way. A landscape would do well too, something like a sunset perhaps? The purple of the gradient would compliment his hair well, and you could incorporate some other colours and shapes possibly to bring out the emerald hues he looked at you so tenderly with.

For a while, the routine of paint being suffused across your upper arms and torso continued with the occasional pause for Rohan to take a look at you or to pick up more paint. It was strangely therapeutic for both you and Rohan, who was taking great care in what he was doing, making sure that his didn’t accidentally pressing against wet paint or have it too watery to run down.

“Hm, just a bit more,” he told you, “you will have to lay down for a while so it can dry.”

Understandable, really. It’d be a shame to ruin something so bold and adventurous due to premature standing up.

Once the feeling of paint had stopped, you both stayed in pleasant silence for the wet feeling on your skin to subside and harden. Well, it was silent until Rohan bent down a little to blow onto the paint, causing you to suddenly giggle.

In a second, he slapped a hand over your mouth and tutted, using his other hand to guide the more dried side of your stomach down as your back had arched slightly from your laughter.

“Sorry,” a meek squeak muffled from his hand, something Rohan chuckled at. After ten minutes, that felt like hours, you had the “ok” to open your eyes.

The two of you sat up, Rohan on his knees in between your legs, and stared into each other’s eyes. Without bothering to see what he had painted, you wrapped an arm around his neck and brought him in for a kiss, finally allowing yourself to freely smile and laugh. “That was so much fun! It felt so funny!”

“I can imagine, it was just as nice to paint on you, it is a shame I had to cover you up but you make for a lovely canvas, my love,” the manga artist hummed, feeling more at ease than he had all week after powering through a large amount of new panels to publish.

“Oh hush,” you shushed, finally getting up onto your feet and glancing into a mirror to see what he had done.

“Rohan, this is amazing!” To your surprise, a magnificent starry sky had been spread across your body, a mix of colours similar to Vincent Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ covering you with amazing detail. From your shoulders and chest, there was primarily black and deep blue that faded down to lighter shades of blue, yellow and white stars of all varying shapes and sizes sprinkled across you. Even silhouettes of structures were added, and if you squinted hard enough you saw two minuscule figures close together.

When you turned to face Rohan to directly appraise his work, you saw that he was holding a camera and began to take a few shots of you. At first, you felt sheepish until you remembered that this was Rohan and it wasn’t like anyone else would see the photos; over his dead body they would.

You struck a few poses, even sprawling across the ground again for a clear view. With a clear gratitude, he helped you back up and kissed your forehead. “Wonderful, absolutely magnificent,” he muttered into your hair.

“Not too bad yourself, honey,” you teased, moving back to bend down and pick up a paint brush that you dragged from his cheek all the way down to the hem of his boxers. “Now, I think it’s my turn, wouldn’t you say?”

#rohan kishibe #rohan x reader #x reader #jjba x reader #request #jjba

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duhragonball · 4 years

Text

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (135/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[14 November 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

Zatte was a Dorlun, born with a unique ability to manipulate energy. She mostly used this for bending light and other radiation around her body, to make herself invisible, or for deflecting ki to protect herself or to hide her own power level from those who could sense it. She had accompanied her wife, Luffa, the Legendary Super Saiyan, on what she considered to be a holy mission to Nagaoka. Luffa had sworn to destroy the planet, and the wicked Saiyan cultists who lurked beneath the thick grey clouds of the Nagaokan atmosphere.

Mostly, Zatte's job was to keep the ship running and coordinate with Luffa's attack fleet. And she was more than happy to do this. This was Luffa's epic story, and Zatte was simply honored to be a part of it. The Dorlun culture prioritized survival, and the Dorlun religion commanded its people to stay alive so that they might eventually find a worthy cause to support. Zatte believed that Luffa was her cause, a pivotal figure destined to change the course of history, what the Dorluns called xan-nil'Dor. Zatte's life had become a swirling mass of contradictions since she realized Luffa's importance. It was hard to balance out all her roles-- loving spouse, devoted disciple, martial arts student, sensible advisor, down-to-earth sidekick-- but now those roles seemed to have finally converged into one. As Zatte stood on the bridge of Luffa's yacht and watched Nagaoka, she felt a serenity in her heart that told her that everything had worked out for the best. Luffa would triumph, and the universe would prosper. All Zatte had to do was follow her beloved the rest of the way.

And then the bombardment failed. Every ship in the fleet fired conventional weapons on the planet, and nothing happened. It was like some enormous force field surrounded the entire planet, but Zatte couldn't locate a power source on the surface big enough to support such a technology. She had never heard of a force field big enough to shield an entire planet, but she knew such a device had to run on something.

Undaunted, Luffa went to the cargo bay to fire on the planet herself. As the Super Saiyan, Luffa's power was greater than any other Saiyan in the universe, greater than the firepower of the entire fleet. For a moment, Zatte felt reassured. Nagaoka would be destroyed in an instant, and its secrets would die with it. From the bridge, Zatte could sense her bride's immense ki energy building. On the viewscreen, she could see the lance of golden energy streaking out to the planet.

And then the energy faded away, only for the planet to split it up and shoot it all back from a hundred different directions. Even if there was a force field big enough and strong enough to do this, there was too much cohesion in the reflected energy. It should have just diffused evenly, leaving little more than a harmless wave of radiation. To split a beam into dozens of smaller beams was something more like Zatte's own innate ability, but how could anything achieve this on a planetary scale? It was impossible, unless...

Her mind raced with horrified speculations, but soon the answer appeared before her as she watched the clouds on Nagaoka shift and swirl until they formed the image of a man's face. She instantly recognized it as the likeness of King Rehval III, the Saiyan monarch who abandoned his kingdom to start his bizarre alchemical cult on Nagaoka.

And then, as the lips of the cloud-image began to move, Zatte could hear his voice in her mind. "Hello, Luffa. I'm so glad that you've finally arrived. Now, at last, we can put all of this to an end."

Saiyans all had a low-level telepathic ability. Over a limited range, they could send their thoughts to other beings, like a sort of mental walkie-talkie, although they lacked more advanced mind-reading powers. Luffa could read minds, but only by making physical contact. In this case, it seemed like Rehval was projecting his thoughts across a much larger range, not just addressing Luffa, but anyone nearby. Zatte began to wonder if the entire fleet could hear this.

"I'm sure you remember Pozet," Rehval began, and Zatte's heart sank. She remembered Pozet well. Zatte had killed that horrible creature aboard this very ship. It had tried to prevent her from rescuing Luffa on planet Pflaume. It should have marked the end of that nightmare, it looked like Rehval wasn't finished with it yet.

"Homuncular synthesis is one of the greatest tests of an alchemist's skills. Many of the greatest alchemists die without ever achieving it. I actually pulled it off on my first try, but I didn't feel like I had truly mastered the technique until I created Pozet using folicle samples from your wife. She's an amazing woman, really. My compliments."

Zatte forced herself to look away from the viewscreen and get back to the computers on the bridge. The energy bursts from the planet hadn't been aimed at anything in particular, but a number of ships had been hit anyway. She needed to contact the fleet commanders and get them to back off from Nagaoka before something else happened.

"I created Pozet to act as that serial killer," Rehval explained, "which I used to lure you to my trap on Pflaume City, but she was also a peace offering if you changed your mind and decided to see things my way instead. I thought we could join forces, Luffa. I thought there would be no limit to the things we could achieve together, but you rejected my gift and you spurned my friendship, and now you've come here to destroy me. Fortunately, Pozet served a purpose for that scenario too."

"No," Zatte murmured to herself. "No, no, no..."

"I made three of her, Luffa," he said. "One to present to you, the second to act as my 'serial killer'. You and your lovely bride made short work of them, but the third Pozet I used for my research. I was fascinated with the energy manipulation powers, you see. Imagine what a Saiyan could do with that sort of ability! Imagine what I could do with it, the greatest Saiyan of all!"

Zatte looked up at the viewscreen and clutched at the fabric of her shirt over her heart. She didn't know exactly what all of this meant, not yet. She didn't know how Rehval had become so powerful, or what he planned to do with that power, but she knew that it would be something terrible.

And worst of all, he had used her to make it all possible.

*******

[14 November 233 Before Age. Despye.]

Prester Ganzut paced in a tight circle around his office in the capital city of Despye. There had been no word from the Federation fleet they had sent to Nagaoka. He didn't expect to hear anything, since they were avoiding communications to prevent anyone from learning of their counterattack. He would only receive word when the battle was over, and by his reckoning, the fleet would have just arrived in the Nagaoka system. A cold pitcher of iced tea was waiting for him at his desk, slowly soaking the wood with condensation. Every time the pitcher caught his eye as he walked around the room, he told himself that he would drink it later, but he never got around to it.

Nothing would be the same when this was over. Even if Luffa won the battle, she had all but promised to bring sweeping changes to the Federation when she returned. He had no idea how drastic those "changes" would be, and she probably had no idea herself, which was what made her so dangerous. Even if it all went perfectly, he doubted that her plans would bode well for his career.

As he mulled over his political prospects, the ground began to shake under his feet. He wasn't sure what to do about an earthquake, as this part of the planet had never had one before. Just as he decided to take cover under his desk, two of his security detail rushed into the office and escorted him to an emergency transport. This was standard procedure during an attack on the city, but he couldn't hear any air-raid sirens or any other sounds he had come to associate with a battle.

The way to the transport was underground, connected to his building by a tunnel, but before they could reach it, they found the entire entrance smashed into rubble. A large column of earth was rising out of the ground, and the tunnel entrance simply had the misfortune of being located in its path. So too, was the ceiling above them, and the upper floors of the building.

His security team managed to get him outdoors, and they even evacuated most of the other people inside, but as Prester Ganzut watched the Despye Executive Hall being impaled by a giant column of rock and dirt, he was certain that there had to have been causalities. Angrily, he demanded an explanation for what was happening, even though he doubted that anyone else had one to offer.

Then the great tower of earth began to shape itself, like clay in the hands of an invisible sculptor, and Ganzut suddenly knew.

"The cultists!" he gasped as the column finally took the form of a man. He had heard of this taking place on other planets, but Luffa had always been there to stop them before they could do any real harm. But Luffa was at Nagaoka, supposedly fighting the cultists, wasn't she? If so, then she wasn't fighting them hard enough for Prester Ganzut's liking.

"Prester Ganzut, I presume!" the earthen giant said aloud. It looked right at him, and Ganzut's blood ran cold. "Good day to you, sir. I'm King Rehval III, also known as Trismegistus. Well, this is an avatar of me, anyway. My followers planted it here so that I could talk to you when the time was right."

"This can't be!" Ganzut said. "You... can't be here! Luffa's fortuneteller, she told us there wasn't gonna be any more attacks from you Jindan Saiyans!"

"Fortuneteller?" Rehval asked. By now, the avatar was so detailed that Ganzut could see the look of surprise in its "eyes". "Well, now, that does explain a few things. I expected her to defeat my warriors, but I could never understand how she always seemed to know exactly when and where to find them. Such a resourceful woman. Well, Luffa's fortuneteller was right, Prester. There will be no more attacks on your territory. Right now, my avatars are rising up on planets all over the Federation, but they aren't going to fight. They'll just be standing by, awaiting your unconditional surrender!"

"Surrender?" Ganzut asked. "Are you sayin' you already defeated her at Nagaoka?!"

"Prester, you don't understand!" Rehval said with a laugh. "I don't need to defeat Luffa, anymore than I have to attack you. As of today, I've become invincible, and Luffa? Well, she's simply no longer relevant!"

*******

[14 November 233 Before Age. Chai I.]

A similar scene was playing out on the grounds of the Imperial Palace on Chai I, seat of the Camelian Empire.

"The war with the Federation was never about conquest or revenge, your Majesty," the rock-Rehval explained to Zinenz 15, the Emperor of Camelia, who had been playing cricket on horseback when the avatar rose up from the field.

"It was a diversion," Rehval continued. "Luffa had to stay put inside her own territory to defend it from my warriors, while the rest of you watched from the sidelines, believing that I was only interested in the Federation. All the while, my agents were traveling to your planets in secret, and pouring a special potion into the soil of your planets."

"All of them?" Zinenz 15 asked with some skepticism in his voice. His mount was very nervous in the shadow of the earthen giant, but the emperor did his best to stand his ground.

"Enough of them," Rehval replied. "The figure that stands before you know is more than powerful enough to destroy Chai I with ease. I can't destroy every planet in your empire so quickly, but I can threaten enough of the important ones to throw Eternal Camelia into turmoil."

*******

[14 November 233 Before Age. Festid III.]

"Unless we submit to you, is that what you're saying?" asked General Zinfandel asked.

"Precisely," said the rock-Rehval that had manifested on Festid's capital city. "You cannot defeat this giant creature that stands before you, General. The potion that animates it was already absorbed into the very matter that makes up your planet. You might destroy this physical form you see, but another will rise out of the ground to replace it, again and again, for as long as I see fit. Luffa has the power to break the spell, but your armies simply don't have what it takes. You'd only destroy yourselves in the attempt."

"Or we could simply take the fight to you, Your Majesty," Zinfandel suggested. "Killing you on this planet, you mentioned, Nagaoka, would surely disrupt your control over this thing you have created."

"Indeed it would, General, which is why I've taken measures to protect myself," Rehval explained. "Even now, my stronghold is under attack by a Federation fleet, led by Luffa herself. The entire planet is impervious to her strongest techniques. Even if she could find a way to reach the surface, she would have to fight through tens of thousands of my followers. Each of them has been empowered by my Jindan potion. Luffa struggled to defeat twenty of my warriors at a time. How can she hope to beat them all at once?"

*******

[14 November 233 Before Age. Goldwall.]

"This planet has seen enough tyrants, Rehval. I won't allow it to be dominated by another, no matter how powerful."

These were the defiant words of M'ranga, formerly known as Ensign Liberty, now the Kami of Planet Goldwall. Being a goddess was still new to her, and her performance of the role was highly unorthodox. When the giant Saiyan-thing emerged from the dirt, she descended from her Heavenly Lookout and met him directly, rather than watch passively from a distance. The gods of the higher realms might not have approved of this hands-on approach, but Ensign Liberty was a revolutionary, and to her the divine hierarchy was just another power structure to be questioned whenever possible. Likewise, she saw King Rehval as simply another bully.

"I respect your position, Your Grace," the rock-Rehval said. It knelt before her in a mocking show of respect, and kept angling its ear closer to M'ranga as if straining to hear such a tiny creature. "For the time being, I'll allow you to indulge in whatever comfortable slogans you like. Devastating your planet right now wouldn't accomplish anything. I don't want to make an example of Goldwall, but if it comes to that, I'd prefer to have witnesses to see it happening."

"Then wh--?" M'ranga began to ask, but then the earthen giant rose to his full height and looked away from her.

"I only produced these giant avatars because I wanted to inform you all of what was happening," Rehval said. "The Age of Trismegistus has begun, but it hasn't really reached you just yet. For now, this is mostly just to prove a point to Luffa, but once I've finished discussing it with her, I visit all of your worlds again, and I'll explain exactly what it is I expect from each of you."

M'ranga continued speaking after that, delivering a fiery speech about freedom and the irrepressible spirit of sentient beings, but if the rock-Rehval could hear her, it gave no response whatsoever.

*******

[14 November 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

"It's amazing, truly amazing," Rehval said as he bathed in the glowing red liquid that filled his sunken bathtub. It was a public section of his compound, and his followers were encouraged to enter and watch him soak. Some fell prostrate at the edge of the bath and worshiped him, while a parade of attendants added scented oils and other chemicals to the liquid as he soaked in it. Behind him, Treekul lounged on a mat and massaged his neck and shoulders.

"Tell me about it, boss," Treekul said. The hair on her head was over two inches long.

"I'm everywhere at once now," he said. "Not literally, but but I might as well be everywhere. I'm talking to a thousand people at once right now. I can see them, Treekul. They all look so outraged, so envious of what I've become."

"I'm sure Luffa looks pretty ticked off right about now," Treekul said with a smile.

"Oh, I can't see her," Rehval said. "But I can see her ship, and all the other ships she brought along. They're just hanging there in space like little toys. And beyond them, the stars, my kingdom. My laboratory. The very clouds have become my eyes, Treekul. I can see it all as easily as I see you."

He looked back at her, and raised one of his hands to caress her cheek. She pulled back at the sight of the crimson fluid still dripping from his fingertips.

"Oh, it's harmless, I promise," he said. "I've been drinking different potions and rubbing ointments into my skin for weeks to prepare myself for this. Without all those treatments, all of this would be useless, like stewing in melted candlewax."

"That's what you said about this lotion, too," Treekul replied. She held up her hand to show the oily film she had been rubbing into his shoulders. "And you talked me into that, but let's just say I'd like to know more before I jump in there with you. How did you pull all of this off?"

"It's like I told you from the beginning, my Apprentice," Rehval said. "The energy of living things is what gives rise to ki. Saiyans have more of it than most, but it never seems to be enough, and there's more than one way to get it. There's untapped power within the very planets themselves. My namesake, the original Trismegistus, found ways to study that geomantic energy, but he lacked the vision to do anything with it. I named myself Trismegistus to honor the fulfillment of his discoveries."

"I thought you took that name to claim supremacy over all other alchemists," Treekul asked. "You know, 'Look at me, I'm the best.'"

"Well, that too," Rehval said with a satisfied smirk. "I can have more than one reason."

"Yeah, I guess you can have anything you want now," she said as she went back to rubbing his shoulders. One of the attendants handed him a crystal sifter of wine, and he sampled the bouquet with relish.

"I had more than one reason for keeping you here, too," he added. "Of course, I couldn't let you just tell outsiders about this place. Not until I had its defenses prepared, anyway. It took some doing to incorporate Pozet's abilities into my link with the planet's geology. But besides that, I needed someone I could talk to. Someone removed from the Saiyans, who could appreciate everything I put into this plan."

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, it's not like there's anywhere else for me to escape to, is there?" she asked. "You've practically conquered the whole universe, so I might as well stay here where all the magic happens."

"Exactly," he said. "Admit it, you didn't think any Saiyan was capable of this sort of genius. We're all nothing but brutish warriors to you."

"I gotta admit, I have been rethinking a lot of old attitudes since I got here," Treekul said.

"The whole universe has looked down their nose at the Saiyan species," Rehval said. "And rightfully so, because many of us believe in the same stereotypes. I tried to reverse that perception, to play the dignified statesman, an ambassador of goodwill from the Saiyans to the rest of the galaxy, but I knew they didn't really believe me. They thought I was a curiosity, or an aberration. Sooner or later, they expected me to revert to type. What those haughty princes and emperors didn't understand was that I was counting on them to underestimate us."

He raised his glass to toast the worshipers at the opposite end of the bath, then drank. "That was how my flock was able to seed so many worlds in such a short span of time. No one thinks of a Saiyan using stealth. They expect us to crash onto a planet's surface and run wild, pillaging everything in sight. No one imagines a Saiyan infiltrating a group of tourists, or a work crew. No one is on guard against a Saiyan stepping out of sight and pouring a vial of liquid into the soil near a government building. And even if that Saiyan were spotted, no one would understand what he was doing. They wouldn't even know he was a Saiyan, not without a tail to give him away."

Treekul gestured at everyone else in the room. "That's why you had everyone lop off their tails?" she asked. "So they'd be sneakier?"

"More than that," Rehval said. "I did it to prove that we no longer need the tails, that we're so much more without them. Look at Nagaoka. Surrounded by clouds, its moonlight is useless here. Even if you had a tail, on another planet it wouldn't be good for more than a day or two. But I've channeled the geomantic currents of this solar system. The planet's relationship to the moon serves me at all times, without a tail. That's progress, Treekul. Why would anyone want to escape from that?"

*******

"Aren't you forgetting something, dad?" Seltiss asked from the bridge of the SFC's command ship. It was unnerving to stare into the eyes of his image on Nagaoka's surface, but she fixed her gaze anyway, determined to show her resolve.

"Ah, Seltiss," Rehval said telepathically. "I hear you've kept busy while I've been away. I'll admit, I was somewhat surprised when I found out you had joined forces with Luffa."

"You were surprised? I thought you were dead," Seltiss shouted. "Or that you had gone totally freakazoid after you evacuated Planet Saiya! Then this cult shows up and I thought some lame-o wizard was trying to enslave us all! Turns out it was you all along."

"Then you should be relieved," Rehval said. "The Saiyans are in no danger from me. The Jindan power is a way for them to become stronger, and a way to make myself stronger in return. That's how I've made all of this possible. By merging my spirit with the planet, and drawing power from my followers, I--"

"You've empowered yourself," said Xibuyas, who stood beside Seltiss on the bridge. "But only yourself, from what I can see. You say you have rock-avatars on a thousand key planets, ready to destroy them if anyone defies you. The only way to stop them is to destroy Nagaoka, which you've made indestructible. That's not like you, Your Majesty. You always taught Princess Seltiss and me that wielding power was a much more subtle art."

"Yeah," Seltiss added. "It's a scalpel, not a club. That's what you always told us. Its like a strategic game. You make one move at a time, building your position until you can win."

On the viewscreen of Seltiss' ship, the clouds on Nagaoka chuckled in time with Rehval's telepathic laugh. "Don't you understand, children? It was a game, but it's over now! I've won! I wielded the scalpel, since long before you were born, and now the surgery is finished! The game is over, and this is the end of history. Whatever happens from now on will be decided by my power, and mine alone. This was always the point, Seltiss. It was always about securing the future of the Saiyans at the top of the universal food chain. Everything before today was a means to an end."

"But you've forgotten something, dad!" Seltiss insisted. "Whatever this creepy future is you've envisioned for the Saiyans, it can't outlive you! Who's going to maintain all of this when you're gone? You need heirs for that, and right now you haven't got any!"

She was trembling now, and Xibuyas nearly reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, until he thought better of it. He knew this was something she had wanted to say to her father for a long time, and now that the moment was finally here, she was building confidence in her words. Seltiss pointed her thumb at herself, then poked her own chest with it, deforming the logo of whatever musical act was featured on her 7000-credit t-shirt.

"I know about your eugenics plans, dad," Seltiss said. "You told me about it often enough. The genetic profiling, the incubation chambers, that was only just the beginning. You wanted to breed a stronger generation of Saiyans, and you wanted your descendants to be the strongest of each new generation, right? That's why you needed Xibuyas! He was your special project to make an ultimate Saiyan, but you needed me to bear his offspring, so they would share your bloodline!

"Well guess what? Xibuyas and I aren't playing along anymore. You may need us, but we sure don't need you, not anymore! So even if you are invincible, your new era won't even last another century... unless!"

Her lips curled into a triumphant smile, like a high-stakes gambler on the brink of winning the pot. Xibuyas couldn't help but smile himself. He didn't understand her fashion sense, or why she insisted on dyeing her black hair pink, or how she could possibly think Luffa was "cool." Xibuyas only knew that he admired this girl more than he could possibly express.

"We can work something out, father," Seltiss said. "You'll have to agree to share power, and grant certain concessions to my Saiyan followers. They have their pride, you know. They're not about to start bowing down to you like some sort of graven image, not when they came to me to get away from your bogus brand of order."

The cloud-image of Rehval seemed genuinely impressed by her bold demands. "Concessions," he said, as though trying the word on for size. "Interesting, Seltiss. Suppose I agree to your terms. What do I get from you in return?"

Seltiss relaxed slightly. "When we're older, Xibuyas and I will produce those heirs you want," she said. "And the two of us can take over your rule when you... well you know... die. And I can talk the Free Companions into a working relationship with you. They can act as enforcers, since you and yours are probably, like, stuck on that planet for the long term right?"

Xibuyas chuckled quietly. Luffa and her Federation fleet would be furious over this, but what could they possibly do about it? She had them over a barrel. As powerful as Rehval had become, she was the one person in the universe who had something he wanted. He watched Rehval's face on the atmosphere of Nagaoka, curious to see how he would react.

The face in the clouds simply laughed.

"Seltiss, Seltiss, Seltiss," he said as the cloud-image shook its "head". "I'm impressed with how far you've come. I really am. Organizing this Free Company of yours, building a coalition against me, well I knew you would try it, but I honestly wasn't sure how well you would succeed. You really are my twenty-seventh greatest creation."

"You... you knew I would turn against you?" Seltiss asked.

"I raised you, my dear. Sent you to all those private schools to teach you political theory. I chose those programs because I knew they would fill your head with ideas about taking bold steps to secure power, and how important it is for leaders to take initiative. I wanted you to grow up looking for ways to seize power from me wherever you could. At first, it was just so you would be a worthy successor if something ever happened to me. But when I abandoned Saiya, I knew you might start gathering all of my enemies together. Every Saiyan who would oppose my rule, all united under one banner. And how thoughtful of you to deliver them to my doorstep!"

"You wanted me to do this?" Seltiss gasped.

"Either this, or maybe you'd get them all killed in a war you couldn't win. Or they'd abandon you in disgust and recognize my power as the only one that works. But this! Oh, you've made me very proud. Your sisters were never capable of this kind of leadership, Seltiss. That's why I chose you to be the one who bore Xibuyas' children. It had to be you."

"Well it won't be!" Seltiss shouted. "I'm not your puppet, dad! I don't care how powerful you are, I'm not going to play along with your sick plans!"

She began to stamp her feet on the deck, not quite hard enough to smash the deckplate apart, but enough for everyone on the bridge to feel the rumble.

"We won't do it!" Seltiss insisted. "You can send your goons to chase us all over the galaxy, but you'll never get your heir! And Xibuyas can beat those rock monsters of yours. Luffa's already shown us how! So unless you plan to die of old age on that planet of yours, you'd better--"

Rehval started to laugh again.

"Seltiss, do you really think you were ever that important to my plans?" Rehval asked. "Would I really let a spoiled teenager out of my sight if I actually depended on her cooperation?"

"You knew you couldn't stop me, so you didn't try!" Seltiss protested. "That's why you didn't send your men to stop me from rescuing Xibuyas from Pflaume--"

"I let you have Xibuyas," Rehval said, "because I had no further use for him. He failed to defeat Luffa, and I knew he wouldn't bother me too much while he was with you, so I abandoned him. Just like I abandoned you when I had no further need of you."

The cloud image shifted, forming a planet-sized monochrome photograph of a cryonics laboratory. A scientist could be seen handling frozen embryos.

"I wanted grandchildren through you and Xibuyas," Rehval expained, but I never needed your cooperation to get them. I took genetic samples from both of you when you were small children, and sent them to a facility that specializes in genetic engineering projects. It's on Planet Bliff in the Nullon Sector. I'm telling you this because one of my avatars is already on the planet, ready to protect it in case one of you tries to interfere with my business there."

Seltiss was horrified. "You... you what?"

The image in the clouds shifted into a wider view of Rehval, soaking in his alchemical bath, surrounded by his faithful. "I saw great potential in both of you, but I had to see what you could do in practice, and I didn't want to risk losing your genomes if you got yourselves killed. You see, Seltiss, I want a line of descendants, but not as heirs. No, I needed you to produce a line of enforcers. Saiyans of royal blood who would go out and handle provincial matters in my new kingdom. You would be the matriarch of that line, and I think you'd be very good at that work. But your sons and daughters will fill the role just as well. I wanted you to cooperate, I really did, but I only needed one thing from you, and..." he paused to chuckle, "I already have it."

In the cloud-image, Rehval clapped his hands together with great enthusiasm. "As for my death, I wouldn't mark your calendars anytime soon. I'm not just bonded with the energy of this planet. I am the planet now. Its vast geomantic energies are mine to control, like the ki of my Saiyan body. The process has merged us in a way that I can't quite put into words, but I think I'll have plenty of time to figure that out. We Saiyans think of planets as things that are fairly easy to destroy, but Nagaoka is now a planet that can defend itself. Or rather, myself. And we think of Saiyans as creatures with a finite lifespan, but I've become so much more than that now. How long does the moon live in the sky? Well now I am the moon. I am the sky. I am the planet. So now that we've got that straightened out, let's talk about the concessions you can make for me, my daughter."

Xibuyas saw Seltiss trembling again, but this time it wasn't out of anxiety or excitement. Now, it was despair. He couldn't help but share it. He wanted to call Rehval's bluff, to say that it was impossible for him to do the things he was claiming. And yet, he knew he owed his life to Rehval's alchemical skills, and he had fought the rock-Rehval creatures before. As for Nagaoka, he could sense the strange power of this planet, and he had already seen how ineffective their weapons were against it.

"Every Saiyan who partakes in the Jindan potion has given me a portion of their energy," Rehval began. "Every Saiyan who does not, will be considered an enemy of the state. You, Seltiss, my daughter, will bring your followers to the surface of Nagaoka, and they will join me. Any who refuse, well, that's fine. I can destroy you here and now, or my followers can hunt you down later. I know there are other Saiyans out there who haven't taken sides yet. I'd like your help in finding them, Seltiss. But I don't need your help, and honestly, I don't mind taking my time. Those other Saiyans are no threat to me."

*******

Aboard Luffa's star-yacht, Luffa and Guwar watched Rehval from the open door in the cargo bay. The force field that maintained the bay's atmosphere offered a perfect view overlooking Nagaoka, and Rehval's telepathy relayed everything he had said to Seltiss.

"I'll go ahead and offer an invitation to Luffa as well," Rehval said. "No harm in that, since I know she won't accept it, but I would suggest that you consider the alternative, Luffa. You can't defeat me here. Even if you reached the surface, you'd never stand a chance against my armies. You can defeat my avatars, true, but you'd have to get to them first, and it'll take you weeks to get back to your precious Federation. If I were you, I wouldn't bother. I'll command my avatars to destroy any planet at the first sign of your approach. The Federation will surrender to me, immediately, I think. And you... well, I guess you can roam the stars, Luffa. No inhabited planet in the universe will dare accept you, not if it means incurring my divine wrath. I suppose you can find some remote world to settle on, or just fly your star-yacht as far as you can go until it runs out of fuel.

"I'm willing to let Guwar return the fold as well. Yes, I can sense you aboard Luffa's ship, Guwar. You were part of my plan, after all. I knew my scheme would make no sense without an understanding of what I intended to do with this planet. That was why I took you into my 'confidence', Guwar. I knew your faith in me would falter, and that you would go running to the only person you thought was strong enough to stop me. Hopefully, you see just how wrong you were to doubt."

It horrified Guwar to hear Rehval speak to him directly. He hadn't wanted to come along on this mission at all, and he had hoped the cult wouldn't learn of his presence on Luffa's ship. But now, Rehval had seen him, and.... forgiven him?

"I hope you appreciate my revenge, Luffa," Rehval went on. "I sacrificed so many of my favorite things when I tried to kill you on Pflaume City. And then I had to give up my kingdom on Planet Saiya. Well now I've taken away the thing that matters most to you, Mrs. 'Super Saiyan'. I've taken away your relevance. I've become more powerful than you now, and that makes your power meaningless. Now you can slither under a rock, the way I only seemed to do when I left Saiya. The difference is that I came here to achieve an even greater glory! While all you can do is decide how you want to die. Have fun making up your mind, woman."

Here, the telepathic words of Rehval Trismegistus came to an end. Luffa didn't move as she watched the clouds resume their natural patterns. She didn't move when Guwar approached her.

"I guess that's it then," he said with a sigh. "He played us all. Nothing left to do but head down there and accept d--"

Luffa powered down, her gleaming yellow hair resuming its natural black color. She turned and shot Guwar a murderous glare. "I'm going to kill them," she said. "Every last one of them."

"What?" Guwar asked. "Whoa, wait, you heard what he said! You saw what happened when you fired on the planet. There's nothing anyone can do! Let's just be glad that he's being graceful enough to let us join him. I mean, I've been there before, you know. The cult's not so bad, once you get used to it--"

There was a loud "crack" as Luffa swatted her hand across Guwar's head. Guwar himself didn't hear it, as the force of the blow killed him a split second before the sound arrived at his ears. The last thing to go through his mind was the right side of his skull. For a brief, horrific moment, his dead body remained standing, and then it finally collapsed, as though remembering what it was supposed to do.

Luffa turned and walked out of the bay.

NEXT: Become The Wind.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #luffa #lssjluffafic #zatte #trismegistus #king rehval iii #guwar #zinfandel #prester ganzut #seltiss #xibuyas #m'ranga: ensign liberty #chai #despye #festid #nagaoka #goldwall

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

Ficathon: Mad World

I’ve spent today on uni work and chipping away on Shadow to Light, so instead of a prompt fic, have a sample of one of my WIPs - this one is Mad World, a fic where Alice is the daughter of Charlie Swan’s estranged sister who goes to live with Bella and Charlie. It was an experiment in gothic horror/romance, tbh.

“If you don't know where you are going any road can take you there.” - Lewis Carroll

When I look up at the sky in Forks, I don’t see clouds. Or I do, but they’re obscured by leaves and branches; the forest stretches above me and it’s nice. Private and safe, even though it makes it feel a lot later and darker than it really is. It’s like we’re in a cocoon, and there’s no one else in the world.

I return to reality as his teeth rasp against my stomach, above my belly button, and I giggle, ticklish. I’m splayed across a rock, and it's scratching my back - my sweater is balled up in the dirt, and my shirt is pushed up above my bra.

My fingers twist in his hair and I smirk as he looks back up at me. Jasper Hale; who I sit next to in History and in Trig. His shirt hangs open, revealing a body that will be taking pride of place in my fantasies.

“You okay?” His voice is low and even, but his eyes are sharp. Dark, and watching me. For a moment, I see calculation and something I should react to. Something dangerous. Like he could kill me right here and now; fuck me and choke me; rip me into wet, meaty pieces; beat my skull into dust with a rock. This boy, this man, is dangerous, and I have invited him to get much, much closer. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and he wouldn’t be the first.

And I don’t care. That darkness, that rage, and potential for violence, I’m not scared of it. I haven’t been for a long time. It’s easier to consent than to resist. And more than that, I like that darkness. I like that sharp edge. And what I know of Jasper Hale, I like.

Whatever I am feeling twists and fades into the steady thrum of lust, of confidence and willingness.

“Absolutely nothing,” I say, and tug his hair to bring his face closer to mine.

And that’s how I spent my third afternoon in Forks; fooling around with Jasper Hale in the woods behind the high school auditorium.

—

It’s a rainy Thursday night when I finally, finally arrive in Forks. And in that moment, it is the most beautiful place on earth - the green of the forest, the grey of the rain, the fresh air. It is Shangri-La on Earth, and I am apart of it.

I left North Carolina on Monday, and since then have taken a bus, a train, another bus, another train, and a third bus. I have layers upon layers of deodorant and grime upon my skin; my phone is dead; my hair is greasy from the endless styling tutorials I looked up to combat boredom, and all I want is something to eat and a shower. Anything that isn’t itchy seats, never-ending road, or snack foods would be heaven upon earth at this moment.

In truth, I don’t feel human anymore. I feel like a transient spirit, a modern-day gypsy, a lost girl. That for the rest of time, this will be my life - dirt and fuel and waiting for an end that never comes. But somehow, I have made it to Forks; the red ‘x’ on my photocopied map is finally a real place, with buildings and streets and people. Forks isn’t home, but it is the most welcoming sight I have had in years.

I jump down from the bus; a backpack on my shoulder, a satchel across my chest and a duffle bag in one hand. For all intents and purposes, this is all I own in the world. Twenty-three dollars in my wallet, and my entire life in my bags. I could go anywhere I wanted, except twenty-three dollars won’t take me many places.

No one else on the bus carries as much luggage as I do, and no one is dressed alike either - I changed at the Seattle bus station into my second-to-last clean outfit, to try and make a good impression. Everyone else is wearing a jeans-parka-boots combination, which is probably smart with the horrible weather. Not that I will miss the hideous summers of North Carolina. But I get the sense that this bus is full of locals, who busted happened to be travelling from Port Angeles or Seattle. There’s something about them, like the green of the forest, the dirt and mud of the ground, the rainwater has sunken into their bodies and marked them invisibly as belonging to the town of Forks. I wonder if I’ll be here long enough to be marked too.

The bus station is the smallest I’ve been to on this whirlwind road trip - a tiny convenience store, a spinning rack of postcards, a payphone, and endless wooden benches.

Uncle Charlie is right there, waiting for me - sitting on a bench with a paper cup of coffee. Even if he hadn’t been wearing his uniform, I would have guessed he was my uncle. He doesn’t strictly look like my mother, but there is something in the way they carry themselves, the way that they fill space. I don’t know. I just know that he is definitely Mom’s little brother, one Chief Charlie Swan of Forks, WA.

My new guardian - saviour or gaoler is yet to be determined.

“Uncle Charlie!” I put a big smile on my face and march straight up to him - if life has taught me nothing else, it’s that first impressions count. And not to piss off the person in charge of your welfare. “I’m Alice.”

Uncle Charlie looked up at me, and for a moment, just stared.

So, my outfit wasn’t the best first impression I could have picked. But it was the only one left that I could wear in public - my beloved, holey galaxy leggings; ancient floral Dr Martens that I had laced with pink ribbons; a giant purple and black sweater, and a black miniskirt. Combined with the pancake make-up I had used to cover up my blotchy-skin and dark under-eye circles, my greasy hair knotted in two buns with my collection of dollar-store butterfly clips, and the fact that I smelt like four days of bus, sweat, and fried food, I definitely looked like the devil child my mother probably portrayed me as.

“Mary Alice!” Uncle Charlie recovered. “How was your trip?” He smiled awkwardly and stood up.

“Long,” I said ruefully. “But I’m here now.”

—

Uncle Charlie tried to make conversation as we drove back to his place, as if a truncated game of ‘Twenty Questions’ could undo the awkwardness of not knowing about each other for seventeen years.

And it wasn’t like I could abridge my messy, ridiculous life story into a fifteen minute car trip, anyway. Or that Charlie Swan could become a beloved uncle between the bus station and his home.

Who was I?

I was Mary-Alice Brandon, eldest daughter of Annette Marie Swan-Ackerman, the only child of the late artist Nicholas Brandon. Resented step-daughter of Stephen Ackerman. A granddaughter and a niece and a half-sister. Former prisoner of a remote reform school. Epileptic. A secret keeper, and an artist.

How could I tell Uncle Charlie all the tiny details that made up me, and the reason I was here with him now?

That my mother is no Swan, but a chameleon, a snake, a cuckoo in the nest?

That the last of my stitches came out last week, but the scars still itch like crazy?

That I used to love gas-station slushies, especially pink ones, until I was twelve? That now I love soda, so cold it makes your brain and teeth hurt, and tastes like static?

And besides, what do I know about Charlie and my cousin? He’s a divorced police chief, and his daughter Isabella is also seventeen years old - five months older than me - and lives with him full-time. She attends the local public high school. That my grandparents are dead, and my ex-aunt has since remarried.

That’s it. That’s all I really know. And I am about to live with them.

If I think about it too much, it just feels like another trap.

—

The Swan house was small, but then, so were all the houses on the street. It was old, too, but I’d always known that was a probability. It didn’t make it easier, though. I’ve never done well in old houses. It needed a few repairs - the paint was peeling off, one of the shutters was hanging at an angle, and the front garden was dirt, grass, moss and ferns. Uncle Charlie struck me as a neat and practical kind of person, so this was surprising. But maybe in the spring, I could coax some kind of garden to life, as a way to say thank-you.

We walked in the backdoor, letting it swing shut behind us with a bang. Inside, the hallway was narrow and dark, with stairs leading up, and a few aged pieces of art hung on the plaid walls - mostly landscapes, and several of fish that were very good, if hideously ugly.

The first thing my eye caught was the mantlepiece in the sitting room, above the fireplace - a shrine to a teenage girl who bore a startling resemblance to Mom.

“Wow,” I said, moving closer. The eyes, the smile, the brown hair - this had to be my cousin. “Is that Isabella?”

“Yeah, that’s Bells. She’s out with her boyfriend at the moment,” Uncle Charlie said, setting down my duffle bag.

“She looks just like Mom,” I said, amazed. It was uncanny - Bella looked more like Mom’s daughter than I did.

“I guess she does,” Uncle Charlie said. “Bells is much prettier than Annette was at that age - but that’s all Renee.”

Charlie sounded uncomfortable, and I had to admit to myself that I was uncomfortable hearing my mother’s name. Turning away from the photographs, I pasted a smile back on my face.

“Sorry, I’m easily distracted,” I said. “You were going to show me my room?”

“Yeah. It’s not much,” Uncle Charlie began. “It’s pretty small…”

“You’re taking me in. That makes everything else perfect,” I said firmly, grabbing my backpack again. “Lead the way.”

—

Well.

Uncle Charlie had warned me that my bedroom was tiny.

It was more than tiny – more like a large alcove with glass doors. The walls were off-white, and a square window looked over a tiny yard and the forest. A narrow bed was wedged against the wall, made up with a hideous yellow bedspread. A dresser was arranged against the wall between the bed and doors. Opposite the dresser was a tiny desk and chair. Jammed in the gap at the end of the bed, next to the desk, was an old laundry hamper.

I was betting I could touch the window and the door with my arms outstretched.

Luckily I was used to small living spaces. I wasn’t sharing with anyone; that was enough to make up for the fact that this room would have been a better closet. Or window box. Apparently, Uncle Charlie had used it as an office when he needed to bring work home.

I set my bags on the bed. This was going to be my home for the next year and a half. It felt overwhelming all of a sudden, that I would be living with an uncle and cousin I had never even met before. It wasn’t like school, where I had shared a room with seven other girls, and we’d all been strangers.

I could do this.

It was only eighteen months. I had been away at school nearly three times that long, and if I could survive school, I could survive living at Uncle Charlie’s.

I had intended to unpack and settle in before dinner, but in the end, I just changed into some pyjamas, shoved my bags under the bed, and fallen asleep nearly instantly. I didn’t wake up until much later, almost midnight, starving and disorientated. I crept out of my room, making a note to buy some kind of curtains for the glass doors to give myself some privacy.

Uncle Charlie and my cousin were clearly already asleep, so I got myself a glass of water. There was a note scrawled out for me, telling me to help myself to food, and that they’d see me tomorrow. I felt bad for vanishing without spending time with them or even meeting Bella, but there wasn’t much I could do about that now.

The house was quiet in the darkness, but I used my phone to carefully navigate - and look around. The shrine held a wedding photo of a much-younger Charlie, and the woman who was my ex-aunt; a sad memento when I knew that Uncle Charlie had been divorced for quite a long time. An off-brand recliner sat near a small, out-of-date television, the remote on top of a TV guide, with various sports matches circled in pen. Several pairs of shoes sat by the front door - my cousin was clearly a strong supporter of Converse sneakers.

The leftovers in the fridge looked kind of suspect – some luminous mac and cheese, a chicken that was nearly picked clean, and some greasy looking Chinese. I ended up slapping some peanut butter on some bread, and drinking nearly half a carton of milk, before vanishing back into my new ‘bedroom’ for some more sleep.

Peering out of the uncovered window into the night, I could see beyond the fence line into the black of the forest. The tops of the trees cut the bottom half of the sky off perfectly, like an old-fashioned silhouette. It was strange to imagine my mother living in this kind of town, growing up here. But then, I had a hard time picturing my dad and her being married, too.

Lying back, I stared out at the night sky, the slow movement of clouds over the stars lulling me back to sleep.

#fic: mad world #jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight fan fiction #twificathon2020 #twilight #my fic #my writing

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lyndexv · 4 years

Text

Sophie

So, here’s my first fic (it was supposed to be a prompt, but I made it pass through the 2000 words (2 904 words, woops) for the writing challenge by @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale.

Some importants things before we start : -In this story, we are in a AU where Louis dated Sophie before her capture.

-Marlon doesn’t get killed by AJ, because THIS TIME Clem keeps the gun when Marlon drops it.

Hope you enjoy it.

------------------------------------------

«I love you, Lou...Since the beginning.»

Louis remembered those words, again, and again, as he played random tunes on his piano.

Everything has been so fucked those last days…

Marlon’s betrayal…He couldn’t believe it happened.

«Brody told me : Marlon was gonna give me and AJ up to raiders in exchange for safety ;

The same way he gave up Sophie and Minnie ! »

He couldn’t believe it. He DIDN’T want to believe it.

Sophie, the love of his life, she...she……

--1 year ago--

« Marlon, where’s Minnie ? » Violet was the first to notice that the twins weren’t with the hunt group.

« V-Vi, let me exp- »

«Marlon.» He remembered the despair, the fear behind the gaze of his ‘brother’.

«What the fuck happened to Soph ? » Louis felt anger starting to rise inside him.

« C-Calm down, bro...I-I know it’s hard to take, but she-- »

« WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HER ??! » Idryssa and Violet retained Louis from throwing himself at Marlon.

He did have some anger moments in his life...But now, he felt rage, and hate. He never felt that, at anyone or anything before.

He couldn’t believe it. He DIDN’T want to believe that...she was…

« WALKERS GOT THEM !! » Brody cried. Everyone turned to her.

« We...went outside the safe zone...We found a car, but... » Brody tried to control her panic

« Walkers appeared from nowhere….They..were too many of them. We tried our best, Lou, I swear... »

Louis gave up. He didn’t struggle against Idryssa and Vi anymore. He felt he was on verge of tears.

« No...There’s...There’s no fucking way... »

« Dude...I’m so sorr-- » Marlon walked to Louis, to soothe him , but the pianist refused his hand

« DON’T TOUCH ME ! »

The stressful silence that was occuring made the situation even more unbearable.

Louis dashed to the music room.

« Louis, come back ! »

« LOUIS !!! »

Louis didn’t even care.

As he passed the door, he sat on the piano stool.

He couldn’t contain his despair anymore.

« S-Sophie... »

His tears started to fell on his piano, as he laid his arms and his heads on it.

As he cried, he looked up at the music sheets, at one in peculiar : ‘Sophie’

It had been months since she confessed to him her love. He was so happy, and relieved, that his feelings for her were returned, shared. She loved for what he was, not just because he was the ‘happy goofy jokester’ of the kids…

« ‘Happy Goofy Jokester’ ? Seriously ? » Sophie always cracked a giggle at his nickname.

He wanted to give the best gift for his beloved ginger Irish girl, and, well, a song was a perfect gift. Both had that love for the arts, as Sophie was a genius artist, at painting (well, as much as she could do with the boarding school stuff), at drawing, and even crafting some pillows castle with him (Dear Lord he had dozens of pillows in his room, it was just hilarious)

He wanted to keep it as a surprise, to show and play that song of his once she was back from hunting.

He couldn’t now. She was dead.

After that, he changed.

The first weeks, Louis never left his room, or the music room, even for dinner.

Idryssa brought him food, but he rarely ate, not touched it.

But that was before she betrayed him too….

Surprinsingly enough (for the other kids), he found confort with Violet, as they shared their grief about their lost loves..

After some months, the scar of his heart started to heal, he’d crack some jokes again here or there, and Aasim was less reluctant to rant about his sometimes lame jokes.

But the scar never healed completly, it could open again easily, Louis knew that. The others avoided to talk about the twins, but that made it even worse to bear.

Louis never wanted to betray Sophie’s memory, so he continued to write music, to sing, to crack jokes for the sake of seeing the others smiling (or rolling their eyes, in Vi’s case).

--Months later--

Then, a new girl came into his life : Clementine.

As much as he had a good first impression of her (She let him play ‘Oh My Darling Clementine’, while all the other would have stopped him ; she kicked some walkers heads at a A+ level, while she was just recovering from a concussion, heck ! ; she was beautiful, funny...)

But he felt that it would be HELL wrong to flirt with the new girl, he just...couldn’t do that, especially at the one-year anniversary (what a happy anniversary for sure…) of Sophie’s passing. He did cracked some jokes with Clem, but that was all.

But, as life is a bitch sometimes…

« So...Um...Did you ever felt love, for someone ? »

Clem had a puzzled look at him, as Violet threw her fist on the table out of spite

« Oh-My-God... »

« What ? It is a totally valid question, instead of always talking about d-e-a-t-h things. »

« I don’t know how to explain it, but... » Clem started to explain, as Vi, Marlon and Lou looked at her.

« I met a boy, once. And we were...close, I guess ? »

« What kind of ‘close’ ? » Violet asked.

« Maybe not exactly ‘love-love’, but I definitely felt something for him. »

Then, Clem looked at Louis. « What about you ? »

Fuckfuckfuck

Marlon and Vi’s eyes went wide up, as Clem brought the WORST question she could ever asked him.

Louis started to feel his heart aching horribly, as if someone was using all its strengh and was urging it. He also felt tears starting to come...

Don’t crack up, don’t fucking crack up, not now, not in front of anyone, of her, not again--

Clem noticed it, her expression changing into concern, worry

« Louis, are you allr-- »

« Y-YES , I am ! It’s...okay, you had the right to ask..» He said as he noticed the heavy worry Vi, Marlon and Clem had in their gazes.

« It’s...becoming cold, don’t you think ? I’m...going to my dorm, goodnight. » Louis left them with that terrible excuse. He felt horribly wrong, and the pain came back again.

Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid

« Guess I can’t shame myself more than that... » He thought.

Days passed, and Louis started to feel...strange, about Clementine.

When he looked at her, tchatted with her, even shared some jokes together…

« I am basically a ninja, master of the martial arts. » Louis joked, doing a ‘ninja pose’ as he said it.

« You too ? I thought I was the only one » said Clem, doing some ‘ninja pose’ herself.

« Me too » A.J, her ‘adoptive’ son (?) also did a ninja pose.

While Aasim grunted as usual, Louis smiled. He felt good when he was with Clem, he liked being a ‘dad’ for A.J (Well ,as much as a ‘happy goofy jokester’ can be), taking care of him.

But, like for Sophie, like for every moment he felt...himself, in a happy way, it didn’t last.

This night where, for a minute, Clem was a murderer…

« Look at her hands ! She’s covered in Brody’s blood ! »

He couldn’t believe it. He DIDN’T want to believe it.

But Marlon was his ‘brother’, and he knew Clem since, like, a week ? Why would Marlon lie ?

And...she did have blood on her hands…

«Well, FUCK. THEM. » Marlon pointed his gun at her.

« What the fuck ? » (Nice one Vi, you stole my words… he thought)

« Marlon ! »

« Jesus Christ !»

« You shoot me, and what do you offer up to your raider friends when they come knocking ? »

« What the hell is she talking about ? » Aasim asked

« He won’t do it because he needs us alive-- »

« Shut up ! » Marlon pointed his gun at Clem again.

«Brody told me : Marlon was gonna give me and AJ up to raiders in exchange for safety ;

The same way he gave up Sophie and Minnie ! »

Clem finished her quote looking at Tenn, who was shocked by this reveal.

Louis was shocked too. As he felt his heart aching again, the scar being re-opened by a sadist twist of events, he tried to not crack up.

Don’t crack up, don’t fucking crack up, not now…

He couldn’t believe it. He DIDN’T want to believe it. Why Marlon, of all people, would do something this horrible ? Why would HE lie to HIM, his best friend for years now ?!

« Raiders ? »

« Oh my gosh ! »

« Shut the fuck up, Clementine ! » Marlon still ‘only’ pointed his gun at Clem…

« Let her talk ! » Aasim said.

As Louis felt his heart aching like hell, and the expression of terror in Tenn’s face, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear more of this.

« Brody told me the truth, and THAT’s when Marlon killed her ! »

Everyone turned to Marlon with accusating looks.

Including Louis. He felt pain, but he started to feel rage again…

« Aw, come the FUCK on ! »

Marlon started to walk around Clem.

« They only met up with these ‘raiders’ because Clem insisted they go out there. »

« Quite the coincidence, isn’t it ? Shame I don’t believe in those. »

He...had a point.

« Think about how we all were when the adults left. I pulled us out of that fear. I gave us all courage again. »

« Who are y’all gonna believe, huh ? Johnny-come-lately and her little fucking lunatic ? »

That ‘lunatic’ had his dinner at the same table as Louis, Marlon and the others a few hours ago…

« Or me ? Your friend ? »

This situation is so fucked. He wanted to stand up for Clem, but that would mean he’d be against Marlon, and by that believing that...he…

« Louis, don’t let him do this ! »

What ? She was calling up for him ? Violet was a better candidate, and she seemed closer to Clem than he was now.

And again...His mind was stuck on who to stand for...

« Oh no, I am not involved. »

Seriously? Avoiding conflict, in a situation like THIS ? You coward.

« What ? » Clem sounded in distress, shocked by Louis’ answer.

« I...I like you Clem, but I.. »

You what ? Tell here you’re totally trusting your violent best friend with a gun pointed at her.

« Not me. I’m sorry. »

«You’re, uh, on your own. »

Sophie would have stepped up, you know it. She wouldn’t have ran away from conflict like you’re doing right now.

Cowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcoward

«I’m sorry. »

« Then you better bury me deep. » Clem looked at him, betrayed and angered.

« Because if I come back, I’ll come for you first. »

You deserve your pain.

« Shit. »

« Marlon, come on man, »

« Drop the gun-- »

« Louis ! » Marlon cut him.

« She. Killed. Brody ! »

« We can’t let her walk away. »

Louis looked back at Clem.

« Clem, I...I gotta trust Marlon. »

coward

« I just...I gotta. »

cowardcowardcoward

« I always have. »

« Brody trusted him. And now she’s dead. » Clem said.

« And HE killed her ! »

« Take that back ! »

Louis noticed Marlon’s gaze. It was full of rage.

As he pointed his gun at Clem, he seemed determined. This time, if nobody do anything, he’s gonna shot Clem down.

Step the fuck up. For Clem. For Sophie.

Louis walked to Clem and Marlon, placing himself in the middle of them. He risked his life, he knew that.

Marlon shook his head « You don’t know what you’re doing, man. »

Louis wanted all that shit to end well, without any more deaths that this already did.

« C’mon, dude, just drop the gun. This is how adults do things. Not us. »

« Stand down, Marlon. Be reasonable. » Aasim added.

Aasim, Tenn, Louis, Violet and Omar started to corner Marlon.

« You don’t get it. » Marlon shook his head, still pointing dangerously his gun

« You-you don’t understand at all, do you ? »

Understand what ?

Louis had a bad feeling about this. A truly bad feeling.

« I’m trying TO PROTECT YOU ! » Marlon pointed the gun at everyone.

« ALL OF YOU !! »

« He’s lying to you. He can’t – or won’t – protect you ! » Clem said to the other kids.

« Look at what happened to Brody. To Sophie, Minerva... »

« You suck at protection ! »

Marlon only pointed his gun at her again and shouted. « Shut your fucking mouth ! »

No defense.

« I made the right call. »

Wait, what ? Louis hoped that didn’t mean...no. FUCK NO.

« I saved the lives of everyone in this fucking school ! »

« And if they came back...I’d do it again ! »

Louis felt his pain replaced by rage. WHAT THE FUCK ?

Marlon let the twins get taken LIKE IT WAS NOTHING ?

All those moments of pain he had after Sophie’s disappearance, and that Violet had too, were not only CAUSED by Marlon, but worse than that Marlon never told him the truth. MARLON, his brother, hid the fucking truth about the fate of the love of his life from him ?!!

The others were scandalized too.

« Excuse me ? »

« I didn’t realise we were so fucking expendable »

« You’re a dick ! »

« You told me they died ! »

Louis couldn’t contain his rage anymore.

«HOW COULD YOU DO THAT ?? »

Marlon, and all the others, turned to him, shocked by his rage.

« I THOUGHT...For years I thought you were my brother, that I could trust you over anything in this fucked world... »

« I know Louis, I...I am sorr- »

« When everyone was affraid of you, I wanted to be your friend, because I looked BEYOND your problems, like I did with everyone else here ! »

« And after everything we lived through, YOU FUCKING LET SOPHIE GET TAKEN BY RAIDERS, AND YOU HID THAT FROM ME FOR A YEAR ! »

Louis felt his heart ache, from Marlon’s betrayal. He felt he was starting to cry, but he didn’t care anymore.

« Only a pure coward betrays his friends like this. » Clem said.

--Present--

Marlon has been judged, and exiled by vote. Ironicly, that’s what happened with Shaun, Esther, and...Idryssa. And Marlon was the judge for their ‘trials’. And out of the 4 exiled kids the school had, the most guilty were Idryssa and Marlon, both leaders.

Clem was right after all, the leaders never stay long in place…

Louis absently flipped through his music sheets, when he found a song in peculiar…

‘‘Sophie’, wrote 6-21-2011’. The music he composed for her. As he thought about it, he remembers he never played it.

Louis sighed.

He prepared himself to play.

« This one’s for you, Sophie, if you can hear me. »

Louis started to play. ‘Sophie’ was his longest composition, about 7 minutes easily. It was a romantic ballad, with some ‘irish’ touches here and there, but nothing too stereotyped. The piano being a bit out of tune (If only he could find the right tools for it…) did not ruin the melody, flying out in the whole school, like in the good times…

Even the growing ache in his heart did not stop him.

On a melancholic note, he ended the music.

« That was beautiful. »

Louis suddenly turned his head to the door, only noticing Clementine’s presence now.

« Oh, uh...sorry, I just heard the music and walked to its source. »

« I don’t mind, I like having an audience. » Louis said.

« What was that music ? » Clem asked as he sat on the piano stool.

« A song. That I wrote. »

« You wrote it ? » Clem sounded surprised, not in a bad way.

Louis nodded. « I wrote it for Sophie. »

Both went silent at her mention.

« About that...I’m sorry... for what happened to her. » Clem said, looking concerned for Louis.

« Don’t. It was... » Louis just couldn’t pronounce his name, not that soon.

« his fault. I just...hope she’s okay. » Louis sighed.

Clem put a conforting hand on his shoulder. « I hope she is, too. When we will find the raiders, we’ll bring the twins back, and you’ll be together again. »

Louis smiled at Clem « Thank you, Clem. Even if you just took the rôle of the optimistic for a second, which is mine, if you hadn’t guessed it.»

Clem chuckled « Of course I guessed it, you dork. »

With Sophie’s return, with Clem, Louis felt hope, for the first time in months. Hope that his scar will heal completly.

#twdgdrabblechallenge #too long

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eltanin-malfoy · 5 years

Text

Life Kills (Kill Or Be Killed I)

pairing : draco/fem-collegestudent!y/n (not that romantic.. or platonic)

word count : 3.4k!

warnings : smoking, swearing, mentions of murder/violence/poisoning, angst!!!!

a/n : this is set in an original modern non-magic AU, and the story is based off of (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT, DO NOT CHECK OUT THE PROMPT UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPOIL THE REST OF THE STORY lol) this prompt on @writing-prompt-s. there is no real romance between draco and y/n in this chapter, and i’m not exactly sure there will be. the premise of this story kind of makes that a little crazy. for now, it’s pretty much just animosity. there is the slightest possibility of this turning into a slow burn fic.. so hold on, i guess. this is definitely not your typical x reader. at all. i would appreciate any and all feedback from you guys! requests are open as well :) also i hate smoking irl but it just fit here, sorry.

Chapter 1 : Life Kills

Smoke.

That beloved scent filled Draco’s lungs as he took a drag from the wrinkled brown stick in his hand, his steely eyes shutting as its end glowed red. He held it away for a few seconds as he exhaled, white clouds slipping out of his lips into the cold air in front of him. His eyes followed his own exhalation into the sky, his fingers fidgeting with the green lighter he’d used to ignite his toxic addiction with.

He grinned, then brought the cigarette to his lips for another puff, then another, then another, till slowly, the tube of tar was finally used up. He folded up what was left of his papery weapon with his thin fingers and finally tossed it to the ground. He reached into his pocket for his pack, searching for even more release.

He lifted his gaze to the scene in front of him, the concrete jungle that was Bond Street. The expensive logos were practically calling out his name. It’s just my fucking luck, isn’t it? He scowled at the crowds gathered around the area. My lovely parents just had to go get themselves arrested and leave me all by myself. He instinctively grit his teeth as memories of his awful father fluttered through his brain. At least I don’t have to associate with that.. that.. tyrant anymore.

“Draco? Two minutes left in your break, son.”

The pale blonde rolled his eyes as he stared out front, but looked back and flashed his elderly boss a (fake) smile. She nodded and stepped back inside, arms crossed around her portly frame as she shivered.

It had only been a few months since his parents had been arrested by the government after being convicted of illegally possessing and smuggling famed works of art, literature and the like. When the authorities first began their investigation, Lucius had said that it would all work itself out, even though the police’s suspicions were absolutely correct. He had connections everywhere, after all. But, alas! A search warrant had made its way to Malfoy Manor before his parents had the opportunity to sweep everything under the rug, and.. even their very expensive defence lawyer wasn’t able to hide the fact that they were caught red handed.

This had led to a crapload of problems in Draco’s own life. To begin with, he wouldn’t be able to see his mother for at least another decade. His parents’ fortune (and his trust fund, of course!) was seized by the government, leaving him absolutely broke, and forced to drop out in the second year of his Chemistry degree at the very prestigious Oxford University. He’d tried hard to find some kind of a placement in any of his parents’ friends’ companies, but no, they’d decided to stop associating with any member of the Malfoy clan. So, he managed what he could and left his old grand life in Wiltshire for some kind of meagre lifestyle in London. Working as a cashier at Tesco probably wasn’t the worst thing he could be doing.. It was minimum wage, but, it wasn’t hard. Didn’t require much energy.

Draco, for one, had never understood his parents’ motivation to undertake that.. that.. stupidity.

His parents’ family fortune had had practically no purpose in the first place. There wasn’t a glint of compassion in his father’s heart, and all he wanted to use it for was to satisfy his own wants. Illegally purchasing stolen historical artifacts? Of course. Selling them off to others for even greater profits? Sure! But giving a beggar even a single pound? Absolutely not. This total greed and attitude of disgust his father had had used to interest him when he was younger, back in secondary school. He’d made a habit of showing off his wealth and talking down to those who didn’t have much in comparison. But as he grew up.. he’d realised how awful it was.

Especially now that he was only twenty, absolutely alone and having to live off of four hundred pounds a week. It seemed like a lot, at first, but once you factored in rent, food and basic needs, he was barely left with a handful to work with. His heart practically broke every time he caught sight of a homeless person and somehow, so different to his former self, he’d find himself searching in his wallet for spare notes to hand them.

He quickly opened up the pack of cigarettes and pulled out one to satiate himself, stress bubbling up in his veins. He shoved the box almost haphazardly back into the pocket of his coat, then held it to his lips and flicked his lighter, the brilliant orange flame lighting the tip of the cigarette. He took a drag and looked around again, slowly turning to walk back to his place of work. He took a few deep puffs and was just about to trash it when he heard.. what sounded like a struggle?

He headed down the alleyway, to a bit of a darker turn, instinctively slicking back his platinum blonde hair. He finally got a glimpse of what was happening. There was a girl, probably around the same age as him, having a dynamic disagreement with a.. homeless old person? His protective instincts kicked into gear as he saw her swatting at him with the umbrella in her hand, yelling at him for what sounded like.. attempting to trip her?

The old man was shielding himself with a blanket, his arms over his head as he called for help. Draco, feeling almost like his saviour, pushed the girl away, which, he realised was not the best move with his tall figure, made her fall to the ground with a loud squeal. The old man set the blanket down and looked up at the lack of commotion, then gave the lanky blonde a smile. He even mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ and Draco waved his hand, reassuring him that it was no big deal. He took a deep breath, about to turn on his heel to leave, but found himself scowling down at the girl, who was slowly getting up again.

“Why did you do that?” She panted, her hair messy as she got back onto her feet. She wasn’t exactly well built herself, her face was a bit pale and there were hints of shadows under her eyes as she glared up at him. She dusted herself off and placed her hand on her denim-covered knee, wincing the slightest bit. She quickly rose up again and brought her hands to her hips. “Don’t need to look at me like that.” She clenched her jaw and Draco realised that he’d been silent all this while.

“Don’t need.. idiots like you treating helpless people the way you did. Fucking awful, that was.” He looked her over quickly, his gaze pausing at the straps of the backpack on her shoulders. “You.. you students think you can just get away with anything, don’t you?” He found himself getting a bit more heated, his cheeks slowly beginning to turn purple.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco rolled his eyes and finally turned to leave, walking back down the alleyway without a word. “Well, we don’t need pricks like you defending these oh so helpless people when they try to steal something from someone.” She called out after him and he stopped, staring to the front, before looking over his shoulder. Instead of locking eyes with her, he saw the same homeless man, staring into space as he huddled up with that blanket. Draco felt the slightest pang of guilt in his gut, but ignored it and continued, still choosing to believe that she was just.. an embodiment of his own father.

Nasty and entitled. He thought to himself as he slipped off his coat, setting it on a rack in the Employee’s Only room. Bet she hasn’t known any real problems in her life. Bet she’s not even a fucking good student. He felt his rage boiling up within him again, but stared at himself in the small mirror by the door. He placed his hands on his reddened cheeks and forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths and reassuring himself of his own ability. Looking very flustered wasn’t exactly ideal for a cashier in a supermarket, after all.

***

Draco ran the carton of milk over the scanner. Beep. He passed it over to the red haired boy to the side of him, who began to stuff it into a plastic bag. He tried his best not to glance at his customer, but his curiosity bested him and he reluctantly flashed the dark middle aged man a smile. He shook it off and stared at the monitor in front of him. “That’ll be ninety four pounds and thirty pence, sir.” He looked over at the man as he pulled out his wallet and ruffled through it to hand him a few notes, along with a few coins.

“Oh, and I found this in the Car Care aisle.” He pulled out yet another wallet from his pocket, a black, leather one… just like Draco’s father’s.. He let out a sharp exhale and gently took it from him, setting it on the counter. “Thank you, sir. We’ll announce that it’s missing right away.”

The boy then stuffed the notes into the drawer of the cashier, pulling out the one and returning it to the man. “Here’s your change! Thank you for shopping at Tesco, have a nice day!” He forced the words out of his mouth, his voice dry. He could act well, back in the day, but now, he wasn’t exactly willing to try. The ginger opened his mouth to speak. “Hope to see you again, sir, thanks for returning the wallet you found!” A bright smile on his stupid face. Ugh! Always got to suck up to them, doesn’t he? Draco grit his teeth as he shut the register, looking up to see that there was no more customers queuing at the counter.

He opened up the wallet and looked it over, then noticed the name on a credit card in one of the sleeves to the front. There were a couple of ID cards in the others, but.. he couldn’t exactly be bothered. He leaned down and pulled out the small microphone wired to the counter, thought his announcement up, pressed the button besides it and opened his mouth to speak.

“A black leather wallet belonging to a Y/N Y/L/N was just found in the Car Care aisle. Kindly approach counter number 4 for more details, please.” He called out, almost monotonously, closing the wallet up and setting it away. He turned it off and set it away. He looked over at the wallet again and goddamn Lucius’ face flashed in his mind again.

“Can’t seem to learn to act a little nicer, can you, Draco?” Draco lifted his gaze to look over at him, eyes flitting down to the name tag by his collar. Ron… what a bloke to be forced to spend these hours with.. Draco furrowed his brows and just shook his head. “No, I can’t. And that’s the way it’ll be. I’m saying what I have to say, and I shouldn’t be judged for not feeling like a chirpy little bird all the time.” “Okay.. whatever.” Ron rolled his eyes and fiddled around with the bags attached to the hooks by the counter, then looked around. “Not a very busy day today, is it?”

Draco looked down as his eyes widened, somehow Ron had mastered getting on his nerves. “No, it’s not. Not a lot of people out this late at night on a Sunday, Ron.” He looked over at the digital clock by the exit of the store, tilting his head and rolling his shoulders lightly. ‘10:47’ The clock read. Less than a quarter of an hour until my shift ends and I can get out of this shithole. He stared into space as he bit down on his lip, grateful that Ron had finally decided to remain silent. It wasn’t too chilly inside, but it was unbearable for every other reason. This forced happiness with every single customer, the annoying radio somehow constantly playing only the songs he seemed to hate, his annoying bag packer.. maybe retail really wasn’t for him. He shook his head and fiddled with the edge of his blue uniform shirt, staring at the clock and waiting for time to pass.

Easy money, isn’t it? He continued to think to himself. Have to press a couple of buttons, say a couple of words, stay in my place, everything works out. He took a deep breath. Good cover too. No one’s too careful with managing who does the shifts either.. Great alibi, Draco. Could just lie and write my name up in the lists.. No one even cares. A small smile grew on his face. No one would even know if it was me.. Not one. Murder isn’t that hard when you’ve got control of the inventory as well. Change a couple numbers, bag a couple of items and take them out with you through the employee’s exit, no one would even know a thing.

After having to leave university, Draco had grown very, very confused as to what direction to steer his life in. Money wasn’t exactly what he was after.. and it seemed like any past hopes of his of being a research scientist were pointless without some kind of a degree. Chemistry had been his subject of choice, much to his father’s great disdain. He was fine with Draco not even going into tertiary education at all, he had the family business going for him, didn’t he? If you could call it that, then yes. But.. it wasn’t for him. Smuggling wasn’t what interested him, really. It was murder, now.

Draco had liked reading about true crime since he was a child. The horrors, the mysteries and everything else had fascinated him to no end. He thought it had just been some kind of juvenile interest of his, some way to satisfy his curiosity. He could never have seen himself attempting any of that. But that was until he was forced out of his lush lifestyle, this whole change had not only upped his anger and generosity towards the rich and the poor, respectively, but also his desire to get rid of the stress inside of him. Nicotine had soon become his drug of choice but..

He craved something more.

Roland Hoyt… oh boy.. That was the one serial killer Draco had truly been fascinated by. That absolute genius had managed to kill eight people in an old English town with the use of chemicals. It was some mixture of cyanide and barbiturates that he had managed to feed to most of his victims which lead to their death, but what had truly drawn Draco in was the few cases in which Hoyt managed to use his own version of the famed lethal injection. It was beyond wicked, truly. Draco felt like it would be one hell of an insane mission, had felt crooked to the bone even thinking about doing it, but truly, there was no better way to get out his frustration than to just.. do the same. He couldn’t exactly afford any kind of games, or gym membership or as such any longer. And even his most recent ex, Pansy, had seemed to lose any interest in him once he lost his fortune. Talking to girls wasn’t exactly his forte to begin with, anyways.

He just wanted to try it, really. Out of curiosity. Just someone who no one would miss, would even know they were missing. He knew it was absolutely awful of him to even try.. But he’d studied up enough to know how to get away with it, and try he very well would. Or at least try to try, right?

He was snapped out of his thoughts with a nudge to the shoulder from his accompanying bag packer. His head shot up and looked over at him. “What is it, Weasley?” Ron pointed over at the other side of the counter where a new customer was stood.

“Not you again..”

Draco suddenly froze, instantly recognising that voice. He looked up hesitantly and locked eyes with her. It’s that bitch from earlier! Should bar her from coming in here, really! He grit his teeth and pursed his lips slightly, but soon opened his mouth to speak. “Good evening, miss.” His tone seemed a bit cheery, but was obviously rich in sarcasm. “The wallet’s mine.. “ He almost snarled at this, but placed the wallet on the counter. “Are you sure? Or are you just trying to..? You really Y/N Y/L/N?”

She rolled her eyes and took the wallet, opening it up delicately. “Do you really think I’d steal a wallet? You shouldn’t be allowed to work here, honestly.” She pushed a single bottle of antifreeze forwards, fiddling with the ends of her hair. Draco quickly sized her up as she moved forward. The backpack was gone, replaced by a small satchel bag over her shoulder. She seemed to have changed as well, while he couldn’t remember what kind of shirt she was wearing, the jeans she had on were replaced by some shorts.. and what seemed like a small plaster over her knee. He took the bottle of antifreeze and brought it up to the scanner.

“Well, good thing I have a kind manager, then.” He rolled his eyes as the machine beeped, passing the bottle along to Ron, who almost dropped it at first. Draco looked over at him and his eyes were practically stuck on the girl as she glared at Draco. She suddenly looked over at Ron as well, launching into another attack. “Has Tesco seriously started employing assholes who push customers around when no one else is looking?” She bit down on her lip, awaiting some kind of a response.

“Well-well..” Ron stuttered out and Draco couldn’t help but cringe for him, pressing a few buttons on the register. “He’s just the one.. Really. The rest of us are.. not bad.” The girl seems unsatisfied with this response, but continued to look at him, studying his reaction. “So.. you’re not bad then?” She asked, eyeing the redhead quizzically now. “I can be great for a pretty girl like-” “That’ll be seven pounds.” Draco looked over at Ron to see him staring back disapprovingly, arms crossed over his chest. He could feel the slight snarl growing on his face, but snapped out of it, knowing he couldn’t have this girl actually complain about him to his superiors. “Paying by card?” He flipped a card reader over to her, then pressed a few buttons on his own register. She nodded and fit it into the slot, waiting patiently as it flashed an ‘Approved’ sign. “There..”

Draco rolled his eyes yet again, reaching over to grasp the receipt that had just finished printing out. “Miss, you need to sign and write down your contact number here. Just for verification purposes.” He placed a pen right next to it and took a slight step back, studying her for a second. She seems.. easy? A bit violent.. But easily taken care of. Fell like a twig. He shook the thought from his head for a second, looking down as she finished up.

Almost unpredictably, she looked up and flashed Ron a smile, whose ears immediately flushed pink. Sure enough, the signatures matched and he handed her her bag, after which, she soon stepped out. “What the hell was that, Ron?” Ron just shook his head and looked over at her, before glancing back at the Employees Only room.

Y/N Y/L/N. He thought. How convenient. He looked over at the girl exiting, making a mental note. He quickly closed up the register and placed a ‘Next Counter Please’ sign for the next employee to take off. Ron had already cleaned up his area and had started heading back to the Employees Only room, probably to change.

Y/N. Draco finished up and put his hands in his pockets, heading back himself as he noticed a few other employees shuffling over. Physically, she’s an ordinary female, but mentally, just as spoilt and awful as Father.

Think I’ve found myself a first victim, haven’t I?

Chapter 2

#draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #hp au #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #hp imagine #angst #murder

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severusdefender · 5 years

Text

Excerpt from my fic!

Hi! Love your Tumblr, and love the Snapedom. I've a newcomer, and really going through a phase, so I wrote a fic. This is an excerpt from it. I am always working on it and making improvements because I want it to be as perfect as its main character. The complete story is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874543/chapters/44800099

This is dedicated with love to Marauder stans.

*****

In Severus’s fifth year, Sirius Black told Severus how to enter the Shrieking Shack, and Severus did something - another thing he was to regret forever - and swallowed the bait.

Did he expect a werewolf? He suspected it, but Lily said he was mad. Did he expect a full-grown werewolf, unchained and hungry? Lupin, the tamest, most timid of the four? Were lycanthropes not supposed to be feral even in their human form? Even as an adult, Severus did not know how to answer that. It did not matter what he expected at 16, because a raging werewolf was what he got. To be more accurate, a raging werewolf almost got him.

The predator’s head turned at an impossible speed in the direction of the entrance to the shack. Its yellow eyes focused on Severus, its nose sniffed the victim that walked into its cage alone… a string of saliva stretched between its fangs, and it let out a low, horrible growl. The bites it uncontrollably inflicted on itself left parts of its body bloodied and furless, and it was sure to inflict just such a bite on Severus, the frozen prey that stood there stupidly, thinking God knows what, but definitely not “I was right”. Just before the dark creature attacked, James Potter shouted: “Move, Idiot!”, and shot spell after spell, and dragged Severus, who was still blinking stupidly, away.

“I’m going to Dumbledore,” Severus announced, panting. That was his second mistake, as he would tell himself for months after the fact - he should have pretended to be grateful and gone straight to Lily. But he did not. It might have been the stupidest decision of his life thus far - stupider even than going into the Shrieking Shack in the first place.

James tried to stop him, but without his gang, without his many admirers, he could not. “Then I am coming too!” James cried. Together, they waited for Dumbledore to let them into his office, neither one letting the other out of his sight.

“Tell me what happened,'' the Headmaster asked calmly. James started talking first. When he talked to teachers, “Snivellus” became “Severus”, and there was no mention of his nose or of shampoo to be found for miles. “Professor,” he said with just the right blend of alarm and confidence, “I learned that he was going to try to enter the Shrieking Shack, and I got worried, and ran after him.” James Potter’s disregard for the truth was equal to his disregard for rules.

“And who do you think told me how to get there?! And, and, what did I find there, do you imagine?” Severus, the outraged teenager who foolishly assumed murder was still illegal, shrieked, bug-eyed and scandalized.

Dumbledore sighed. “I know what you encountered there, Master Snape. Master Potter, how did you know he was going down there?”

Potter did not answer this one so quickly. He weighed his options. Most of them were not good. “It was Black!” Severus shouted, before James could come up with another half-truth.

Dumbledore replied, looking at both of them: “You must appreciate that this is very severe. Only Mr. Lupin was meant to know how to calm down the Whomping Willow. I suppose it is natural that he trusted his friends”. Then, he said nothing for a while. “Return to your beds,” he instructed them, finally. “I will consult with Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn and we will reach a decision tomorrow morning, when we have had a chance to calm down. I must demand that you both be discrete, until then.”

Outside Dumbledore’s office, James said: “You disgusting tattle-tale, no wonder no one likes you. This is how you repay me for saving your life? I already regret it. Tell anyone, and I will feed you to him myself.”

A speechless Severus ran to his dorm, whispered the password, and covered himself up to his eyes. A sleepless Severus stared at the ceiling and thought to himself - I have to tell Lily. They made it a prefect, a prefect!

He washed his terrified face hours later, and marched to the Headmaster’s office. Potter and Black were already there - on time, for the first time in their lives, as were Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn.

Was that the moment he was condemned? They got away with it. McGonagall promised to handle the punishment. Slughorn, his own head of house, was occupied first and foremost with the welfare of students he wanted to welcome to his precious Slug Club.

They were above the rules, and Severus was beneath them. So far beneath them, in fact, that he was punished, despite “almost being murdered” not being expressly prohibited anywhere that he knew of. Dumbledore forbade him to talk about it, and whether or not he actually put a silencing charm on him made no difference - he was in his O.W.L. year, and he was not going to get himself expelled for anything before he was fully qualified. He knew full well what life was like for the wandless. Ultimately, Severus blamed himself - how could he have been stupid enough to trust Black not to try to murder him?

Soon enough, Severus found out that Potter was not held up to the same standard of discretion - he was free to blab to his heart’s content. He did not implicate Black or Lupin, but he made himself out to be the hero, Snape's noble savior. Naturally, he neglected to mention that he could not beat Severus one on one.

It was proof. He was born to be hated. He was less, less wealthy, less popular, less attractive, less than a werewolf. He was nobody. Nothing. Whether he lived or died mattered so little he could not even talk about it, not even with Lily, and Sirius did not even get suspended, never apologized (Not even when Dumbledore forced us to shake hands last year, 36 year old Severus thought bitterly). He wondered who would have cared if he had actually died. He wondered if Dumbledore would have reacted differently if the roles were reversed – if the victim had been Gryffindor and the assailant, a Slytherin. Dumbledore drove the second wedge between Severus and Lily. Lucius, his mentor and role model, was gone. Severus felt more alone than he ever did before.

But Lily was still his friend, even though he was growing increasingly paranoid and jumpy, even though he was suddenly secretive around her and inexplicably rancorous. Through all that, she was still his friend. When she took the hexes that were meant for him, she wore her boils and her bizarrely long toenails and her other various temporary disfigurements with pride – a privilege that he felt was exclusive to those who were naturally beautiful, to those no one actually intended to curse. She was beautiful and brave, and he was an ugly coward who let his friend get hurt for him. As he could not share the full extent of what he was going through with her, he worried that she too was growing to think him a coward, and his resentment continued to swell. That she indeed thought that was confirmed when he tried, desperately, to warn her, and she said she heard that James saved him from “whatever is down there.” But she is still your friend, he used to remind himself in those days. And she still hates James.

In their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., they were required to list five signs that identify werewolves. Severus could think of fifty, at the top of his head, including: They are friends with murderers who defy discipline. They will not remember it if they almost kill you. They are more important than the lives of impoverished Slytherin half-bloods.

Severus was not sure if this was the universe itself playing a joke on him or an easy O. He knew the answer less than an hour later.

James attacked him, unprovoked. He disarmed him, immobilized him, choked him with soap… Lily’s voice cut through the air. “Leave him ALONE!” she shouted at James. Severus tried to take advantage of the respite, and crawled toward his wand while Potter, ever the paragon of virtue and fine manners, pestered her to go out with him. Severus needed much less than that to be inspired to try out his Sectumsempra. He was rewarded with being attacked with another of his own spells. He was hanging in the air by his ankle. Did Lily smile at his humiliation before she demanded James to let him down? Maybe this was why James agreed, and Severus collapsed in a heap on the floor… and Black did not even give him a chance to untangle his robes before petrifying him. Lily’s wand was out, now, and evidently, a chance to look good in front of her was worth releasing “Snivellus” from the full body bind to James. “There you go. You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus -”

Severus could not take it anymore – his emotions got the better of him, and, preferring to be petrified by James Potter forever than to owe his Gryffindor Muggle-born friend one more debt she was too beautiful, blissful, and beloved to bother to collect, he said the terrible word that drove the third and final wedge between them. He could have ran away. Did he stick around for a chance to apologize to present itself? Was it because he felt like he had just Sectumsemptra-ed his own heart? Whatever the reason, It made no difference. He found himself suspended in the air and exposed moments later. Stupid.

fanfic rec

#submission #severus snape #snape fanfiction #sorry it took me forever to see this

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