#it's blue's fault because they brought it up and i wrote it forever ago but never posted it lmao
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drivers license [dream]
dream x reader
w/c: 1.3k
a/n: i wrote it. i kinda didn’t want to write for dream with this song considering the recent incidents with his ex, but idk dream just fits the fic kdjsfbhHSHkdf anywho, i hope i make you cry :)
disclaimer: i do not believe dream to be like this irl, obviously. so, remember, it’s all fiction!
you look at the notification that popped up on your phone. the message makes your stomach flip: did you see the tweet? you know your friends are tired of hearing about him, but by revealing his wrong side, they’re making it easier to forget him.
throwing your phone towards the other side of the couch, you stand up without answering your friend. with furrowed brows and the burning need to scream, you head down the stairs to the parking garage. rage flows through your veins as you slam the car door before you hit the steering wheel with your closed fist.
bitter tears stream down your cheeks and onto your lap; they burn your skin and leave welts that can only fade with time; just like heartbreak. you glance at the small digital clock in your car; 11:38 pm.
turning on the ignition, you sniffle and sigh deeply before pulling out of your apartment parking lot. the streets are empty when you turn onto the main road, the idea of your destination makes your grip tighten on the sheering wheel. you try to tell yourself not to go there; it’ll only make things worse. but you only see red as you drive.
the red flags, the red lights, the stop signs. all things lead to no—don’t go any further.
street lights and the shadows of palm trees pass the car, and you slow down in the middle of the road. the beach is feet away from the road, and the sand makes your stomach churn. where are you going?
you know the road you’re taking and where it leads, but do you really want to go there? go there to yell at him, and scream about how much he’s hurt you? your answer is evident as you speed up again, turning right onto his street.
clay’s apartment building stands out from the rest; its baby blue and the palm trees out the front of it are actually alive compared to the other blocks on the street. you pull into the curb, and turn off the car, remaining in the dark with your seatbelt still across you. do you really want to do this? right now?
as you stare at his building, the blue eats away at your heart. the colour is intimidating, despite it being the palest shade, but it also provides you with a sense of comfort. you’d been here almost every day for the past year, and whilst it should bring you pain, it’s home. he’s home.
your eyes widen; he’s home! the light inside his apartment switches on, and there are shadows peering out of the window, down at your car. you swallow thickly, and your nails dig into your palms; the sting distracts you from the growing anxiety that spreads across your skin and plagues your mind.
as soon as clay hears your car, he knows you’re here. the grumbling of the engine is distinct in his brain, and he could recognise it anywhere. he throws a glance at the woman next to him; she’s older than y/n, and only a few years older than him too.
clay doesn’t say anything when he stands to peer out of his window. and to no surprise, there’s your car parked next to the curb. he can’t see you from where he stands behind the curtains, but he knows you’re there. he comes up with a quick excuse to tell the woman where he’s going before he swings the front door open.
clay nearly trips on his own feet as he hurries down the stairs. he knows how much he hurt you, and he regrets it profoundly and seeing you here, right now, tugs on his heart. he misses you dearly, but he knows there’s no coming back from what he said to you a month ago.
stepping outside, clay sees you with your head resting on the steering wheel. he sees you hiccuping and sobbing, and he knows it’s all his fault. as he draws closer, you raise your head, freezing when you notice him approaching your car.
you go to put the car in drive when he’s knocking on the window. you recognise the snarl he wears, and you bite your lip in embarrassment. you flip the key to turn the car off and unclick your seatbelt slowly, although you can hardly move from the anxiety.
clay’s green eyes drown in a fit of anger that you haven’t seen before, and his hair is a mess atop his head as you stand under the buzzing street lamp. his gaze on you is intense as you round the car to stand in front of him.
neither one of you say anything as you stare at each other. the tension swirls above you like a murmuration of starlings, and both of your hearts ache in longing and pain. tears fizzle down your cheeks, and you know he wants to tell you to stop crying for his sake and your own.
the soft yellow undertones of the street lamps make the blue apartment building look disgusting, and you can’t bear to look at the place where he brought you so much happiness. the feeling now frays at the edges and all that remains is gut-wrenching agony.
clay brings his calloused hands to his face and runs his fingers over his eyes, masking himself from you.
“who is she?” you ask, voice breaking.
clay huffs, turning to look back up at his balcony. “nobody you know.”
you roll your eyes. “that makes it worse.”
“why are you here, y/n?” when clay says your name, you know he’s annoyed.
“i don’t know.”
clay’s lips twist in thought—he doesn’t know what to say.
the lamps’ buzzing is irritating, but it’s a great diverge from the yelling that will occur soon. it’s relaxing in a way you two can’t comprehend; it’s almost soothing.
the wind howls and distracts the two of you from each other, but the tension hasn’t blown away just yet.
clay’s heart pulses in his ears when he hears your cracked sobs; his throat closing and his chest tightening. he is so tired and so are you.
“please go home, this isn’t fair on you.” clay pleas. the backs of his eyes threaten him with tears but he pushes them back with the sheer will to remain stoic.
“i’ve never felt this way about anyone except for you, clay.”
he doesn’t say anything. the silence is awkward, but you don’t care as you try to meet his eye. clay’s head hangs low, and his hands are at his sides, you could almost laugh at the irony of it all. everything he said about his ex-girlfriend, does he now mean the same for you, too?
“you have to move on, y/n!”
“how do you expect me to move on, clay? it’s only been a month.”
“why do you keep coming back to me when i’ve hurt you so badly?”
“because i still fucking love you!”
clay shakes his head in disbelief; he’s speechless.
“clay?”
you inhale sharply as your eyes dart towards the older blonde woman who stands on the balcony of his apartment. your throat closes up, tighter than before, and you clench your eyes shut in regret. fuck.
“i-i gotta go.”
“y/n—”
he’s too late, you’re already in your car and hastily putting the key in the ignition. your tears make it hard to see, but you know the way to your apartment from here by heart, and somehow that makes you feel miserable.
how is he okay with you gone? how is he fine without you? because you definitely aren’t fine without him.
he said forever, and now you drive alone past his street and alone through your own.
#dreamwastaken imagine#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken au#dream smp imagine#dream smp au#dream smp x reader#dream smp imagines#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader#mcyt imagines#dream x reader#dream imagines#dream imagine
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prompt: domestic gallavich/being intimate in a nonsexualway bc there’s like 3 weeks til the next episode 😐
your wish is my command, anon!<3 i decided to tie this into next ep bc i simply cannot HANDLE mickey’s outfit/big gay metamorphosis & i needed to create the scene that inspired it so i wrote this
a one-shot bridging 11x06 and 11x07 in which ian and mickey talk about “gay friends,” ripped jeans, and do a bit of processing along the way
tw for brief mention of homophobia/abuse (bc terry lol)
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“How come we don’t have any, like, gay friends?”
Ian looked up from where he was laying on the ground, breathing heavily after a series of push-ups, a nightly routine that he was trying to keep intact even though he and Mickey were practically driving the entire circumference of Chicago every day to make weed deliveries from dawn til dusk, leaving them both exhausted. It had been a week since all the shit with Terry, and a month or so since he and Mickey had started the security gig; while months ago their evenings would be spent sitting side by side on the bed in a brittle silence while Ian read or scratched in his notebook and Mickey played games on his phone blasting at full volume in the pajamas he’d been wearing all day, these days the evenings in their bedroom were softer and warmer— like they were settling into the space together, like they were both on the same team instead of constantly clashing and butting heads while trapped in a too-small space. These days, after having dinner in the clamor of the crowded kitchen, he and Mickey would head upstairs and change out of their uniforms, and Ian would work out while Mickey mostly just lounged on the bed, sometimes making commentary and watching him bob up and down with a pensive smirk or scrolling through his phone.
But tonight, Mickey was quiet— his eyes flickered to the curves and edges of Ian’s torso every now and then as Ian broke a sweat, but otherwise he wasn’t playfully poking and prodding like usual.
Mickey had been a lot quieter in general this week, after all the stuff with Terry— Ian knew seeing the source of all of Mickey’s trauma in a wheelchair immobile from the neck down, the most vulnerable Terry could have been, felt worse than someone repeatedly twisting a knife in Mickey’s abdomen. But beyond the initial shock and the almost-murder and lugging him up the stairs, having Terry in a wheelchair twenty feet away did something deeper to Mickey. This whole situation shifted something solid that had been lodged in the pit of Mickey’s stomach for years— Ian could see it, and he fucking hated it. He hated Mickey’s glassy contemplative eyes as he looked out the car window while they drove to a new dropoff location, lost in his head when he thought Ian wasn’t looking. He hated the tightly wound tension between Mickey’s shoulder blades as he slept, curled into himself and twisted in the comforter, facing away from Ian on the other side of the bed. He hated the tight smiles Mickey gave him as he made some offhand joke about Terry when they could hear him cursing and shrieking through the open front windows, smiles that were trying to prove something outwardly but showed the barbed pain stinging at Mickey’s insides. Ian poured out what he could in soft touches, in skims of fingertips at the breakfast table and in an arm over Mickey’s waist while they slept; but he could only give as much as Mickey would take, and for most of the week Mickey had shut everyone out with iron walls.
Ian couldn’t imagine what was stirring in Mickey’s mind; he’d seen some of Mickey’s trauma firsthand, sure, and some of the stories about Terry came slipping through the cracks when Mickey’s guard was down— mostly on those late nights when they both couldn’t sleep and Mickey whispered into the crook of Ian’s neck as they were curled into each other, cradled in the dark silence of their bedroom. But Ian knew there was deeper shit that he hadn’t heard about, and he could see the constant fear of Mickey’s adolescence hanging heavy around his neck all these years later. But Mickey didn’t need anyone to push his walls down— Ian knew he’d open up when he was ready.
Which is why this random question, the most direct statement Mickey had really made to him all week, caught Ian off guard. He sat up, folding his arms over his legs and staring up at where Mickey was slouching on the bed, propped up by a pillow he’d shoved between his back and the wall. “Gay friends?” he asked, more than a little confused.
Mickey cleared his throat. “Yeah, gay friends, y’know. Like all your youth center queers that came to the wedding or whatever.” He suddenly looked down and picked at a fraying thread on his shirt sleeve, not meeting Ian’s eyes.
Ian raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was random, sure, but Mickey wouldn’t have brought it up if something wasn’t weighing on him, bubbling up after all the events of this week.
“I don’t know— I guess since the pandemic and stuff, I haven’t really kept in touch with Geneva or any of those guys who came to our wedding. We only really talked after I got out of prison because of all the Gay Jesus publicity bullshit, but after you got out I wasn’t really thinking about that as much.”
Mickey blew out a breath, so quietly Ian barely noticed it. Ian stood, wiping his sweaty forehead and plopping down on the bed next to Mickey, folding his legs so their knees were almost touching— but still giving him space, still letting him breathe.
“Why’re you asking?”
“Don’t know, really. Just thinkin’.” Mickey picked at his shirt sleeve again, then flickered his gaze up to meet Ian’s eyes, two clear pools of glassy blue. “Thinkin’ about what life could’ve been like. If I wasn’t scared shitless of who I was for so long.”
Ian felt something twist in his gut, the same queasy pang of pain that always resurfaced whenever he saw Mickey like this, whenever he was reminded of all the unspeakable agony that Terry had put him through.
“It’s fucked up that you didn’t get to be who you were for so long, Mick,” he breathed, knowing that statement didn’t cover the amount of things that were fucked up about this situation.
Mickey ran his teeth over his bottom lip, like he was concentrating. “Yeah.”
Ian let them sit there for a second. It seemed like Mickey wanted to say more, but something in him was frozen solid. After a moment, Ian tried to break the tension.
“Hey, for the record, I’ve had lots of gay friends and you aren’t missing much. There’s lots of PC bullshit that’s important but took me fucking forever to learn— and even then, I never really felt like I totally belonged.” He gently nudged Mickey’s ribcage. “I guess that’s why I forgot about everyone, between work and getting to be with you all the time— I’d rather eat pizza in the mall food court with you than go to some boujee fucking café with the youth center people any day.”
The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upwards slightly. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.” His fingers went slack around the threads on his shirtsleeve he’d been picking at. “You don’t… miss it though? Bein’ around people who’re like us?”
Ian paused for a moment, imagining the youth center crew in the same room as Mickey— it would be fucking comical, like people speaking two different languages, like astronauts trying to communicate with aliens on Mars through gestures and confused looks. But that was just because Mickey didn’t know how to speak that language— he’d been kept shrouded in an abusive household with daily death threats for years, and then stowed away in prison where he didn’t have the chance to go to fucking brunches and clubs and education events like Ian could. Ian got the chance to learn all that shit— it wasn’t Mickey’s fault that he never did, and if it was anyone’s, it was all Terry’s.
Ian’s eyes flickered to Mickey’s face— he looked vulnerable and split open, like he was drifting away in all the possibilities of what could have been. When he answered, Ian spoke softly, carefully.
“I mean… I guess I do. There were nice parts of going out with people, or even those after-parties back when I used to work at the club. There’s something nice about being with your people, where you can make jokes about stuff or talk about deep shit and everyone’s on the same page. It’s hard to find that around here.” Ian tentatively crawled his hand over the blanket, letting it rest on Mickey’s knee. “S’there anything else going on?”
Mickey raised his thumb to his mouth, biting at a hangnail contemplatively. “Dunno, man. Just thinking. How it might be nice, to have friends like us. I used to be scared of hangin’ with other queers, but I think that was just some deep bullshit with Terry.” He looked up to meet Ian’s eyes. “It’d be nice to stop… hating that part of myself, or whatever.”
Ian smiled, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Mickey’s and tracing a pattern with the thumb that was free from their grasp on Mickey’s inner thigh, a soft touch of validation that Ian hoped would soak into Mickey’s skin.
“I think so too.” Ian watched the corner of Mickey’s mouth curve upwards. “I can definitely hit up some of the people I used to hang with, and see if they wanna get coffee or something? With the two of us? Only if you want.”
Mickey nodded— then chuckled a breathy laugh, like he was relieved. “Fuck it. Yeah.”
Ian couldn’t help it; Mickey looked so fucking sweet and so relieved that he had to press a kiss to the top of his head. Mickey squirmed underneath him, bristling like a cat that didn’t want to be pet like he did with most of Ian’s soft touches— but Ian just grinned and doubled down, pressing another slower peck onto Mickey’s temple. Mickey blew out a slow breath.
“Don’t know what I’d fuckin’ wear to a brunch with a bunch of Northside do-gooder gays,” he said after a moment, his voice wavering so slightly that no one except Ian would have noticed.
Ian rolled his eyes fondly, giving Mickey’s hand a quick pulse of a squeeze. “Mickey, are you kidding? Wear whatever the fuck you want. You don’t need to change yourself, that’s kind of the whole point.”
“Yeah. Fuck. Guess it is.” Mickey was quiet for a moment, but still chewing on his bottom lip, like he was building the courage to say something more. Ian could tell— he let the comfortable silence hang between them, knowing that Mickey would break it when he was ready.
“D’you think it’d be stupid if I, like, tried to… jazz up my look a bit?” He darted his eyes nervously to Ian’s face, down to their clasped hands, and then back to the covers again. “Like, uh— I don’t know. Maybe wore some shit that didn’t have holes in it. With patterns, or whatever.”
Ian felt his face split into a grin. Patterns, or whatever— god, he loved his dumbass husband so fucking much. He pressed another kiss to Mickey’s cheek— this time Mickey didn’t flinch away, his only resistance a forced roll of his eyes.
“Mick, I don’t think that’s stupid at all. I think you should dress however makes you feel good.”
“’Kay.” Mickey pursed his lips, like he was still hesitant. Ian rubbed his thumb over the back of Mickey’s hand, their fingers still clasped and hanging limply in Mickey’s lap. The silence was hanging again, and Ian could still feel the tight waves of anxiety bouncing off of Mickey. He took in a breath.
“I could… help you, y’know. If you wanted to dress a certain way. At the very least I could gas you up and tell you how hot you look.” Ian paused, smirking and running his eyes over Mickey’s torso. “But I could also help you pick shit out, or whatever. We could order some stuff online.”
Mickey looked up at him, his eyes oddly relieved and open in a way they hadn’t been in days. “Yeah?”
Ian softly smiled. “Yeah. Only if you want to. You’re you, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I love the way you look— hell, it drives me crazy, Mick. But— if you feel like you aren’t dressing the way that makes you feel the best, or like you’re putting on an act for other people and you don’t want to anymore— then we can figure this out.”
This time it was Mickey that initiated affection, lifting their clasped hands and pressing a quick ghost of a kiss to Ian’s wrist. Ian smiled in acknowledgement, then playfully raised his eyebrows. “You wanna look online now? I’m done working out and more than happy to help you gay up your look.”
Mickey unclasped their hands, playfully shoving Ian squarely in the chest. “Fuck you.” Then, in an uncharacteristic move from the way Mickey had been flinching away from his touches all week, Mickey leaned in closer to Ian’s chest, nestling his back on Ian’s sternum and reaching for his phone that was discarded on the blanket beside him. “Alright, hot stuff. Where’re we fucking shopping?”
Ian grinned and snapped the waistband of Mickey’s sweatpants playfully, shuffling underneath him and getting comfortable.
“’Kay, let me think. I used to order a bunch of shirts and stuff from Primark when I was going out with the youth center people. They have good denim, too.”
Mickey’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth again while he listened. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the phone’s keyboard— then, in an automatic movement, he quickly shoved his phone into Ian’s hand, cheerfully wriggling back into Ian’s chest. Ian smirked and unlocked the phone, happy to take the reins— online shopping for fashion was clearly lightyears out of Mickey’s comfort zone.
Ian navigated over to the Primark homepage, plastered with torsos of toned models wearing striped button ups and ripped jeans. His thumb pressed down onto the “denim” tab, and he started to slowly scroll through the rows of options, holding the phone so Mickey could see.
“I don’t know what you really want, but they’ve got pretty cheap pants and shit that’re good quality…” Ian let his voice trail off, speaking softly to where Mickey was lying on his chest in a voice that he knew was tickling the shell of Mickey’s ear. Mickey almost seemed… nervous, or at the very least paralyzed by the wealth of options. He raised his thumb to his mouth, anxiously biting the hangnail again.
“I guess those ripped ones don’t look too bad.”
Ian clicked on the picture Mickey was referring to. They were black jeans, a dark wash and skinny cut, with patches ripped on both knees. Ian felt something well in his chest, probably an overreaction to a pair of jeans— but these jeans were perfect for Mickey. They weren’t too much, weren’t overly fashionable, but they still felt more clean-cut than the baggy pants Mickey usually threw on. These jeans were badass, and totally aligned with Mickey’s don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, but they were deliberate. Stylish. Like they were saying here the fuck I am.
“Yeah?” Ian knew Mickey could tell he was smiling from his voice.
Mickey smirked, craning his neck and turning to look up at Ian. “Yeah. Think I can pull ‘em off?”
Ian pressed his lips together. “Fuck yeah. You’re gonna look so good.”
Mickey just gave a satisfied smile, and nestled back against Ian’s chest again. “Let’s get ‘em, then.”
#i hope u enjoy!<3#also im sorry I’ve been so mia in regards to prompts#my mom’s been in the hospital all week and it’s just been a very tough and draining time#but writing this brought me so so much joy!#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless#shameless fic#ian x mickey#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#shameless season 11
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Vmin fic rec - Canon compliant
So I got an ask quite a while ago, and considering I am an avid lover of canon compliant Vmin fics myself, it took way too long for me to answer this.
Thank you so much! <3 Like you I love canon Vmin fics, and have a bunch of them bookmarked...Actually there are over 100 in my bookmarks and since I don’t know if you wanted quailty or quantity I added most of them here. I simply searched for canon fics amongst my own bookmarks. That also means I likely missed some as I just searched based on the one tag “canon compliant” and not everyone might have used that tag.
Mind you this is in no particular order in how much I like them but rather from when I bookmarked them, some I love and others I like. Also, I don’t know your taste and standard, so I’m sorry if some of these aren’t for you. Also, I would include a description, but I think it’s easier and takes less space (aka I can add more fics) if I just add the link and you can check them out one by one.
There are definitely NSFW ones in here, and honestly I probably can’t remember all of them too well as I simply went through the whole list without stopping to see what fics I had in my list.
I hope you will find something you like here as canon Vmin truly are to die for. <3 I mean, they sometimes outdo fiction don’t they?
Check under the cut for 100+ Canon Vmin fics.
a space we're in together by hammersandstrings
ships in the night by albinococonut23
I'm in love with you, My Honeymoon by SilverLions
glow in the dark by bwimincore
a bed made and ready by smashthatlikebutton
an incident of fate (and dumplings) by majestaekim
Blue & Grey by imhereforvmin
settle down by as7erRisk
under the midnight sun by mistilteinn
life makes love look hard by yoontros
"Friends" by imhereforvmin
Just Soulmate Things by bangtanmirage
like an ancient sun by vastlyunknown
honesty is beautiful (like you, darling) by IGotJams95
Cuddle Buddies by teamkimseokjin (closetfairy)
an excerpt of love by vmxns
made visible by yeongwonhanrain (pudgypanda)
The Beginning of Forever by adidasjungkook
fast track by latertater (vmincrumb)
Counting The Beat by TracksDifferent
basic instinct by taekmindown
the brightest part by latertater (vmincrumb)
my heart is pounding tonight by chlexcer
Like Vines by TracksDifferent
Mandu Incident by VMINSaranghae
Friends by smolkook
The Other Side by Serendipitous_VMin
The Greatest Declaration of Love by Serendipitous_VMin
5000 days, 5000 ways by mistilteinn
A Nameless Bird That Sings by afraidtocare
deep in our bones (i know you) by ninefives (vmxns)
rest your bones (with me) by firebreathe
stay (you are my soulmate) by starlit_tae
Helping Hands by fandomfab16
Friends? by sweetnight_vm
Friends by rabbitfur
Friends by justpromisemin
in the space between the words by jardin (huayuan)
love is no big truth by venusghost
bro shut up i'm trying to find your gspot by namginut
Friends by PeaceFanfics for pjm_prmise
stay by momjoon (NogitsuneStiles)
Friends by Love_yourself_12
Bad Habits by 1995soulmates_coms (orphan_account)
taehyung's leash incidents by Anonymous
Mikrokosmos by imhereforvmin
Then There Was Malta by TracksDifferent
irritated by minblush
We're a perfect match (perfect somehow) by tang_jin_jaem
Map of the Soul: vmin by imhereforvmin
Secret Love Song by whatareliefwehaveeachother
twenty-one minutes. by naturallyvante
the start of something new by cryptonomica
all i wanna do (is drive home to you) by glossedmouth
3, 2, 1 by Serendipitous_VMin
Tiptoeing Over The Edge by vminthough
As Sweet As Sea Salt by vminthough
You're hurting too 'cause you're mine by escribeloquequieras
Show Me Yours by eron_less
these stars in your eyes by vmxns
Pressure of Light by timesuck2000
95z by alittleharder
Taehyung's Non-proposal by apocryphalic
there's something between us, anyway by chlexcer
any stranger i choose by hyalinos
Stigma by Manek
base coat by jeonbenet for makesomelove
When you move (I move) by jwimin-ssi (abaegel)
Maybe I'm In Love With You by VantaeKimTaehyung
every drop counts because of you by IGotJams95
you got your name in lights by pettey
those goddamn pants by orphan_account
It’s my mouth Kim Taehyung, I’ll do with it what I want by happily_missy
dance with the one that brought you by brendonurie
what am i gonna do, say no? by naturallyvante
i just want to kiss the stars by IGotJams95
Asking For It by Peppermintprism
The Perils of Dating Park Jimin by softbangtanboys
wanna end up on you by vastlyunknown
Why are you crying (You and I are the only ones here) by kkyufms (halo_dean)
just like a tattoo (i'll always have you) by cypherkooks
More Than Yesterday by 1995soulmates
contact by loveismore
beautiful thing by loverslight
A List on You by blithevmin
what ifs and whens by billykaplan
let's get going by gangbang
Sticky Sweet by x______o (orphan_account)
Three Sixty Five by orphan_account
two weeks by buichim
Bossy by CheekyBrunette
Keeping Score by 1995soulmates
Act Natural by orphan_account
With You By My Side(s), My Love Won't Go To "Waist" by btsax (znks)
4 O'Clock by Awalk66
Lovesick by orphan_account
Eclipse by orphan_account
here comes the rush (before we touch) by knth
tonight, the world is blue by vmxns
summer days and daisy dukes (wow, look at you) by vmxns
Ask Me Anything by Trilluvium
Unbothered by sugarlizard
how to confess to your best friend on April Fools' (hint: you don't) by blurbluefrog (ForestFish)
friends help each other by minblush
kissing up on fences (and up on walls, i don't want to fall) by bonnia
Can I Have This Dance? by SevenSoulmates
Your love was handmade for somebody like me by tangowithsuga
crashing waves by autumnleavxs
A Fault In My Structure by Zee
till the ocean is folded and hung up to dry (i'll love you, dear) by orphan_account
trust that particular flavor by pettey for parksinbloom
At Last (my love has come along) by orphan_account
for him by mellzmallow
best of me by firejimin for for chels! i hope i didn’t disappoint ctfu
Intro: Going to Lose my Mind by VanishedElf
you make me wonder sometimes (all the time) by minblush
we don’t believe what’s on tv by chahans
out of the woodwork by lvlyvmin
Through dozens of skies by mecchayabai (this is a personal favorite of mine, I love the concept mixed with canon Vmin)
I also got another ask about fics, and if you want more Vmin I made a Huge Vmin fic rec that you can check out. Hope you will find something you like. :)
If you want a rec with my favorites I could always do a much shorter one... Or you can check my previous rec post (above) for canon compliant ones as I was more picky when I made that list.
Also here is a short little drabble that I wrote... Do you write Vmin fics? Yes, and here is a small drabble. (Which reminds me I should also write on my own Canon Vmin fic I’ve been working on but neglecting in favor of writing analysis. T__T)
Again, thank you so much for this ask. And as another canon loving fic reader let’s hope our lovely Vmin writers keep providing us with new ones. :) <3
#vmin fic rec#vmin canon#vmin canon compliant#vmin fanfiction#vmin fic#btsandvmin#my post#Vmin - Canon compliant fic rec#vmin
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Before You Go [One Shot]
SUMMARY: Ransom Hugh Drysdale has finally done it, his greed had come to bite him in the ass and he was now facing life without parole. Gone was the arrogant trust fund grandson, now a man that had nothing remained. Behind an orange jumpsuit and a lifetime to reflect how his world comes crashing down from his own doing. He has come into terms with his action, but someone comes back in his life to see him before she goes live her life again without him. [Post-Knives Out AU]
WARNING: Slight Profanities(?) Not Beta’d
CHARACTERS: Ransom Drysdale x Future Ex Wife!FOC [unnamed]
WORDS: 1881
A/N: The ending of this is so ugh! i don't like how it ends, but yeah.
Years of knowing one Ransom Drysdale, the years of hating him, loving him, and marrying him. To see him in this predicament was by far the last thing she would have ever believed to would happen to her husband--ex-husband as soon as she could get his signature of the Divorce Papers. This man in a horrible orange jumpsuit and horrible workers boots was not her husband.
"What have you done, Ran?" she questioned finally sitting in front of him.
Ransom and the rest of his family still had a sway in the powers above and here they both sat. Alone, with only three correctional officers watching over them, listening with intrigue as the man had finally had a visitor that he approved of. Sitting in a metal chair that creaked as most of her weight rested on the back, she was led to wonder more about this moment, how could this happen to him, how could he let himself go into the deep end like this.
"What I needed to do." he shrugged, gone was the arrogance in his stance, no longer did he have a snide remark or a comeback. She was left to watch the glory of her lover now turn into ashes. Ransom Drysdale had finally come to accept his fate behind the steel bars.
Her hands clenched as she rested them on her lap, the hard folder that rested on top of it already burning her. This was one of the reasons she came here. To find her closure and live the life he could never give her. The Thrombey-Drysdale Clan were dysfunctional in every sense of the word, in all her years of knowing them and having to interact with them, they were the most vile and cruel family she had ever been associated with. It made her wonder, if that very family was the cause of what came to be known as Ransom, the black sheep that never truly had the love and support of his parents--desperate for money that he forced to make ends meet, even with lives were on the line, his grandfather's life being on the line.
She sighed, eyes skimming the white painted room. The lack of windows and sunlight brought a more harrowing scene before her.
Turning her attention back to her husband, there was this look on his eyes that she has never seen before. The emptiness in his blue hues breaks her heart more than she would ever admit.
Had this been her fault? Was she not strong enough for the two of them and this was what it led to? Ransom thrown into jail and she was empty with the ghost of what could have been. But then again, it had been his own doing why she had to go. She couldn't bare to see him like this, to live a life of a bachelor while she waited at him, stagnation had been the plague that had her leave and never come back.
"You weren't out of the country when there was a Will Reading with the attorney?" He inquired eyes finally landing right back at her. The same blue eyes now turned back to her.
"I left because of money, I wanted nothing out of your Grandfather's money, and having me in the same room as those assholes you call your family would only prove their point." she spat. Why was he questioning something he knew very well the answer to. "I was in California, just got partnered and I'm in the process of moving everything I own cross country." she admits.
"So that's why you're here?" he inquire. "Here to gloat? Tell me once again you've regret marrying as arrogant prick like me."
Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten. A mantra her therapist had said when dealing with Ransom, dealing with him putting words in her mouth. One of the many reasons why they fell apart and constant misery had laid waste in their marriage and in what was left of their relationship.
"I just want to know why you had to do this? Why did it have to come to this? Money wouldn't have been a problem for the two of us. We're set for life, my parents are ready to give the company to us, all they wanted was a grandchild. That was all they ever wanted from the two of us."
The argument that had been constant in their life was her wanting to have child and Ransom being unable to let go of his lavish bachelor lifestyle. They loved each other, she had hoped and prayed that will never stop, but their priorities weren't set straight, more so Ransom. She couldn't allow herself to constantly clean up his messes, deal with his horrible family, and juggle the responsibility thrown at her by her parents for her own future. She just gave in, their relationship became collateral because of it. The fact that he didn't make an effort only proves where their relationship stood.
"So what did you do instead of being my husband?" she inquired. "You slept with countless of women behind my back." The way his eyes finally broke from her own stare made it more evident of the betrayal the man had done to her. "You have proven to my parents over and over again why I don't deserve someone like you."
This wasn't the reason why she was here, but Ransom was making it so hard to control herself, to stop the emotions from spilling out of her resolve. This will be the last time she see him before she moves on with her life. With shaky hands she placed the folder towards him. Eyes finally falling towards his hands that took hold of the document at hand.
"I want a divorce, Ransom. I should have done this years ago, I was just too stupid to think you'd try to make this work."
She watched him read through the papers, each paper cemented what she had tried her best to convince him of. It was never the money.
"You're giving me what Harlan gave you in his inheritance?" Ransom questioned.
She didn't need to be part of the will reading to know the circus that Harlan had made, giving most of his assets to Martha, and a portion of it was given to her. It was no chump change. Blood Like Wine Publishing was under her name, and the harassment she had to endure because of the Thrombey-Drysdale family was not worth it. This was her only solution.
"You think the old man's lawyer would allow that to happen?" he snorts. "He wrote us all off on his will. There are fine prints on them that even I can't be bothered to read anymore."
"I know." she confirmed. "Harlan had stated that if I were to divorce one Hugh Ransom Drysdale, for whatever reason I may have, the Publishing House, and the entirety of his copyright catalogue with return to the rightful owner, to his grandson, no one else."
How the gears were now turning in his head. He has come to realize that everything that he had done was for nothing. The inheritance was still his had he made the right decision all this time. Now here he was, to rot in jail for who knows how long and the stagnation that was to come for the inheritance he was too consumed in taking for himself.
"Why not keep it then?"
"Like I told you, it's never about the money." she sighed turning her attention towards one of the guards, with his head jerking towards his watch, she knew she didn't have much time left. "I gave you everything but as much as I know Harlan's legacy would be in my good hands, if it means having to be forever your wife, I'd rather have nothing that is smeared with your family name anymore."
"You know I did love you."
"Well it wasn't enough for you to keep it in your pants."
"So that's it. Once I sign, it's game over for the two of us?"
Deep breaths. She keep telling herself to take deep, measure breaths. It wasn't worth it to stoop down to his level anymore.
"It's been over for far too long, Ransom. For once, just this once, do this for me. Let me go. I want to be happy, away from you, away from your family, and away from the memory that I can't look at my husband without remembering all of the women I've seen in our home."
That was it, the first line of tears fell from her cheeks and she was a mess. Pleading over and over for him to sign the Divorce papers and the transfer of ownership of the Publishing house to him. In what felt like hours, the sound of pen on paper had overpowered her sob, each line that needed his signature he had signed. The stone face he had could fool no one, not even her. Everything was falling apart for him.
As soon as the folder had closed, he tried leaning towards her, to which she leaned away. She had been tricked by him and his charms countless of times, but this time she will not allow it. She's already done so much, she couldn't see herself wasting it all over again for him. In one swift motion, she had slid the folder away from his hold and taking the pen with her.
She stood, wiping the last remaining tears from her eyes as she tried to compose herself.
"You're free now, Ransom. You've got the money you've always wanted, but you've lost me, you've lost the one last person that had always saw the best in you. I hope you can sleep at night knowing that."
He smirked, the bravado was back. Blue eyes twinkled, but it was far too dim from what he usually had.
"Eat shit, Ex-wife."
She nodded, acceptance finally caving in. This was for the best. For herself and for the life she had made for herself without him in it. Nodding towards the guards, they had now escorted Ransom back to his cell, but he halted just inch from the door.
"Before you go, Babe." he called out. "We could have made it work, if you just fucking saw they weren't anything to me. I never slept with any of them, I didn't even kiss any of them. I always thought I could, break your heart and all that, hoping to make you see that I'm just like what my family said I was."
"And you succeeded, congratulations Ransom. You're even worse that your family for doing this to me."
"I have a different way of loving."
"Yeah well, hope you enjoy the money, Ran. Heard you can bring a few hookers here from time to time. Make the most out of it from me will you."
"Yes Ma'am."
With one last look at her, he followed the guards back to his cell. Leaving her alone with the finality she had always needed in her life. No longer was she chained to him and no longer was she bound to the toxicity of his dysfunctional family. She was free, and that was all she ever wanted.
#ransom drysdale one shot#ransom drysdale imagine#ransom drysdale x ofc#ransom drysdale fanfiction#ransom drysdale imagines
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Rapture is a Boy (7)
Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?
Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)
Warning: cussing, some school taunting/bulling?(very brief and not anything super bad, like under the cut), ABBA mania/silliness
Authors Note: For best experience I have linked the song in the song title so you can listen while you read. I wrote this in a haze of excitement, it is just so silly but I have no trouble believing the Marauders would completely embarrass themselves like this for someone they love. Enjoy!
Word Count: 3.2k
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight
Part Seven
****Take A Chance On Me****
The great hall was silent, I had to actively keep my eyes off of the boys just a couple seats down. Lily was trying her hardest not to stare with longing and regret too. I placed my hand within hers and squeezed as if to say I’m here for you, and though it isn’t my fault, I’m sorry. She squeezed my hand back, returning the sentiments, and bounced back with a smile, pretending to be happier than she was. I wanted to roll my eyes at her change of mood but instead I appreciate the attempt to brighten the morning. You can always count on Lily Evans to empathize and surprise in every situation.
We heard it before we saw it. Loud, pulsing sound. As it got closer I couldn’t help the gasp that fell embarrassingly loud from my mouth. It was one of our favorite muggle bands, Abba, their song was blasting through corridors Take a Chance on Me, but there was no lyrics yet, just the background music as if waiting for the performers. Just like it had countless times before on karaoke nights with the marauders.
Suddenly, the great hall doors were slammed open by two large flying speakers, obviously charmed. A feeling of knowing washed over me and I whip my head towards the boys. Just in time to watch as they climb onto the table, their faces adorned with a beautiful blue color, Remus in gold.
Lily sucked in a deep breath beside me while watching James standing tall despite the spouts of laughter. Sirius throws off his robe, it lands on the head of a flabbergasted Gryffindor, Sirius is revealed to be wearing bright blue bell bottom sparkly pants, his white school button up is tucked underneath.
Remus was right after him, throwing off his robes and ripping off his shirt. Buttons flew onto the people around them but no one paid them any mind. All eyes were on the infamous Marauders, because Remus was now wearing a sparkly blue jumpsuit just like the ones ABBA preform in, with flare pants as to match the rest of the boys His gold lips sparkled and I had to stop myself from wanting to kiss him senseless. His eyes seemed even brighter under the gold hue of his makeup, he was golden.
Nothing was more attractive then the confidence and savvy of the boys before us(didn’t help that I had a fat crush on David Bowie and ABBA). Nothing sweeter than the way they stood and smiled at Lily and I while everyone around us laughed, pointed, whispered and some even smiling themselves.
Sirius picked up a cup by his foot, while James threw off his own robes, wearing an ABBA band shirt Lily bought him ages ago, he was wearing swaying bell bottoms too. Peter flipped his robe inside out to reveal the other side as bright blue with obviously badly glued on glitter, clusters of glitter fell on the table very time he nervously tapped his foot.
Remus brought his wand to his lips, as if a microphone and somehow the lanterns around us dimmed.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, getting over the shock much faster than everyone else, but whatever he was going to say was cut off as the music started to play from the very beginning and this time the voices of four boys joined in, singing the lyrics.
The lights flashed as James sang first, his voice cracking and in the fleeting light you could see him blush. Lily slapped my arm in shock and excitement. Then light flashes again like lightning, as Sirius joined in, singing much louder, he always said he’d like to be a rock star just once (granted this is much different, but he will no doubt pretend there is no difference at all). The next light cued in Peter who sang with his eyes closed, his voice shaking with nerves but he new every line.
It wasn’t until the second verse that their voices died down and the lanterns illuminated the great hall completely again as Remus’s voice rang out strong and clear. His eyes on me. His voice took my breath away, he sounded both awful and yet beautiful.
“If you’re all alone,” he sings, “When the pretty birds have flown,” gasps join in with the music as hundreds of paper doves fly in through the doors, whizzing past me and putting my hair in array, then soaring way over my head, circling up in the ceiling. I could hear Professor McGonagall stifle both her surprise and joy. Everyone was laughing and cheering, but then silence fell again to listen. I could not take my eyes off of Remus, who in turn, would not take his eyes off of me.
“Honey, I’m still free, Take a chance on me...” He must have finished his solo part because the boys start to sing along after that and they all begin to strut down the table towards us like a cat walk. Remus stops just short of us and hops, on beat, off of the table.
Peter, James and Sirius walk right towards me. Sirius slitting his eyes and stooping low, pointing at me with one hand as he sings into the cup with the other. They all stand in front of Lily and I, hips shaking to the beat and James has eyes for Lily only. All the boys sang to us in union.
“If you need me, let me know, gonna be around,” Sirius eye’s turning oddly soft as they sang, “If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down.“
Then they quickly turn towards the crowd again, but I felt it. I felt their hidden apology. For the first time in days I felt some of my anger and sadness slip from me, with every lyric, and every bright, bashful smile. My anger left me as they sang and embarrassed themselves for the sake of a grand apology.
Lily started to laugh. She doubled over and tried to hide her smile with a hand but it was just too ridiculous, all of it really was. James did a double-take when he saw this, then he broke out into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, and his voice no longer sounded so shy. I start giggling myself as Sirius jumps off the table like a rock n roller and dances over to Minnie and Dumbledore, their foot tapping did not go unnoticed by him.
James waltz over to Lily and bows low before her, extending his arm, he sings “We can go dancing,” Lily giggled and takes his hand, she surprises everyone and joins in
“We can go walking,” She sings. James smirks and carries on with a raised brow.
“As long as we’re together...” Then he runs with her past the table, his pants waving and tossing, Lily’s laughing uncontrollably by his side, joining in indefinitely for the song. Remus’s voice still rang loudest over the boys, my eyes searching for him in the room, I seem to have lost him in the commotion of others jumping up and dancing, and the sweet moment between James and Lily.
Then their voices left the serenade and once more it was just Remus. He sounded so close to me, I turned around and my heart did a back flip. He was right behind me, smiling sadly as he say...
“When I dream I'm alone with you, it's magic
You want me to leave it there
Afraid of a love affair
But I think you know that I can't let go” Remus sings, everyone falling quite again as the lights dim once more and a single light is glowing above us. It was in the shape of a white butterfly, and a shooting star darting around it. The great hall grew silent once more. Dumbledore’s voice was heard quietly singing the song, for the music has died down, Minnie hit him and watched us anxiously.
She only grew tenser as Remus sang without music, he looked so vulnerable under the soft white glow and under the eyes of everyone in the room. But above that, he was being vulnerable to me, his voice more of a plead than song.
“If you change your mind, I'm the first in line
Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me
If you need me, let me know, gonna be around
If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down,” He finished with baited breath, despite his lungs begging for more, he was too focused on what I would do next. I take a deep breath and stop fighting the feelings inside of me. I smile brightly up at him, using my own wand, I bring it up to my lips like a microphone too.
“If you’re all alone, when the pretty birds have flown. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.” I sing. Remus’s face lights up with bubbling laughter and pure joy. He takes me in his arms and spins me around, while we embrace the music and lights are back on and everyone in the great hall is singing. Minnie and Dumbledore included, she is smiling at us.
Remus stops spinning and is just standing before me now, very still, as if he was debating whether this is all a dream or not. His glittering eyes boring into mine with such strong emotions I felt trapped, utterly entranced. The words of the song rush through me like the wind, he grabbed my hand softly, and led us both on top of the table.
“Let me tell you now. My love is strong enough, To last when things get rough, it’s magic.” As he sings those sweet words, magic fireworks erupt above us in little cheesy hearts of red. Students around us are overjoyed, up themselves and twirling around, dancing. Many gasped and awed at the fireworks, but nothing was more astonishing than what happened next.
****
Now, was what happens next petty? Yes. Did it land all of the Marauder detention? Yes. Did any of us enjoy the scene any less? Not at fucking all...
****
All the birds swooped down in a cloud of white, their paper wings rustling against one another. They moved like the wind, swooping as one to the right side of the room and then drifting swiftly to the left until they got lower and lower. Until they were right over Lucy Diamond.
I stopped dancing with Remus and stood still, along with most of the students and teachers I was watching the birds. But Remus was still singling softly into my ear, his voice dripped with mischief, the other boys still sang as well, sounding just as suspicious, but otherwise unbothered.
Then the birds broke formation and with every hit of the drum a bird flew down over the top of Lucy’s head, and very quickly shits something atop her head. Each one falls softly, it does not hurt her, but upon impact they break open and release the most god awful smell. Lucy can’t stop screaming, she tries to get up and run but the birds follow her out the door.
Stink bomb after stink bomb was dropped atop her head. The Great Hall was alive with laughter, but perhaps the loudest of all, was my own. Remus was stilling humming in my ear, highly amused he let himself watch too until Lucy was gone from sight.
“Oh, Remus,” I say, laughing loudly, “That is evil.” He laughs too, looking down at me he shrugs. We look at each other and nod, “She deserves it.” We say in union before laughing again.
But then the music screeched to a halt, silence overtook us in waves and drowned us as Dumbledore stood up, his wand being tucked back into his robes.
“Mr.Remus Lupin,” he starts slowly, his low voice gathering everyone’s attention, “Mr.Sirius Black. Mr.James Potter and Mr.Peter Pettigrew. I assume this is of your doing?” He inquires, though the answer is obvious. The boys swallow thickly, nodding their heads. I squeeze Remus’s hand and he shoots me a quick, lopsided smile. Everyone was feeling a bit uneasy, maybe even guilty.
“mmmh,” He nods, “Thought so. Though I always appreciate a dance number, the stink bombs are what concern me most. The four of you will have detention this afternoon, and whatever else Professor McGonagall deems appropriate.” He sits back down, and the student body are unsure of where the look. At Dumbledore, Minnie, or the boys in trouble.
“Yes, Professor.” They all say at once. After a while of the stiff silence everyone goes back to their seats. It wasn’t long before everyone was talking animatedly about what just happened.
“I’ve never seen a thing like it...”One says.
“The makeup’s nice, innit?”
“Yeah, but the pants are god awful.” “Nonesense, have you ever even seen ABBA?’’
Lily and I find ourselves sitting next to the boys again, stupefied by the whole event. I felt overjoyed and confused and surely surprised. I never thought in all my life, I’d be lucky enough to see the Marauders perform ABBA in such attire, at Hogwarts nonetheless.
“So..whatcha’ think? Think I’ll make a good rock star, huh? I knew it was for me.” Sirius starts, flaunting his bandana and not bothering to put his robe back on.
“I didn’t know I had it in me. Merlin, did ya see me shaking, Remus?” Peter says excitedly. Remus turns to him with a bright smile, nodding his head.
“All of ya were just great. Peter memorized the footwork better, though.” Remus says, James wacks his arm.
“Did not, I worked hard on that. Lily liked it. Didn’t cha?” James turns to Lily, who much like me, is still blushing mad. She can only nod. We were still trying to process our shock, and Remus’s golden lips and glowing eyes weren’t making it any easier for me. I’m sure the blue on James had the same affect on Lily.
“But..uhm,” Remus clears his throat, looking rather nervous he turns to me now, “What did you think of it?” He fidgets while I looked for my answer, smiling at the mere memory of minutes ago.
“I thought it was...grand! Shocked me half to death ya did!” I can’t help my voice raising and contorting with my waves of emotions, happy, surprised, impressed and underneath it all, discontent. I lean into Remus, he leans into me, so his ear is close to my mouth, just like when we’d whisper in class. The others talk around us, but we fall into our own world.
“But I need more than just a song, Remus. I need answers. A real conversation, ya know?” I ask, nervous he’ll take it wrong. His actions proved how much he wanted me back, hell he was willing to tarnish his reputation and mortify himself in front of everyone for me. I wanted to make it work just as much, so I hoped he understands that for this to work, we need honesty. He nods eagerly behind me, turning to me with a soft smile.
“I know. You deserve nothing less than the whole truth. Because you’re right, I’ve never cheated on you once,” I nod at him, I’ve gathered that much from Sirius and James’s comments, but my heart still felt lighter at the confession, “But I have been lying to you.” My heart sank at his words and I sat in silence, waiting for more. He took in my reaction and rushes out the rest, as if scared I’ll leave him again. “But I plan on never lying to you again, starting with tonight. After my detention. And (y/n)... I am so sorry for everything that has happened between us.” The intensity in his eyes glue me in place even as the bell chimes, signifying the end of breakfast.
“Here, take this.” He slips a note into my hand, kissing me on the cheek. “It has everything you need to know for my...full apology.” He glances uneasily at the staring students and we both turn to the sound of James’s voice calling for Remus. Remus gives him a thumbs up and turns towards me again.
“I’ve got to go...er change out of this.” He says, shaking his leg as the pants float and toss around his ankles, I throw my head back and laugh. Taking him in fully, his chest hair poke out from the v-neck and the suit covered the rest of him tightly. He looked both hot and ridicules.
“Yes, please do.” I say, but take his hand and twirl him. He twirls with a blush, doing a little dance with his shoulders as he does. He stumbles slightly and I steady him, low and behold he was wearing platforms too. I can’t help but laugh once more. “But keep the get up, yeah? Not too shabby, Mr.Remus Lupin.” I take on the tone of Dumbledore at the end and he laughs.
“See you in first period?” He asks, anxiety slipping through his voice again. It was still weird for us to be talking again, yet all too natural.
“Of course not, when have I ever seen you in the class we share together?” He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm, but doesn’t bother to fight his huge smile, the same one that hasn’t left his face since we danced atop the table.
“I embarrass myself in front of the whole bloody school and ya still have all that sass. Guess we’ll have to fix that later then.” He says, suggestively winking. I laugh and push him towards the great hall doors, we were some of the few people still there.
“Don’t try and seduce me dressed as Benny Andersson, and especially when I’m still mad at you. Cause I am still mad at you, ya know?” I say, our moods sobering slightly. He smiles sadly.
“I know,’ He says, sighing he glances back at boys who are already walking up the stairs, ready to change and beyond waiting with how many people are taking pictures and laughing. “But I will make it up to you, I promise.” He gives me one last smile before turning around and racing up the stairs.
I smile to myself and shake my head, re-playing the events in my mind and reminding myself to ask for some of those moving pictures of the boys. I meet up with Lily and together we walk to class, we can’t shut up about what happened.
Several times we’ve recounted it to one another and made so many jokes we were crying with laughter by the time we reached class. She left me by the door, to make her way to her class not too far from mine. While I waited for Remus and the other boys to walk through the door I pulled out the note Remus gave me and read the contents.
Dear (y/n),
At 8 tonight make your way over to Hagrid’s hut. He’s always had an abundance of creature around there.
All my love to you,
Remus
I tucked the note away with curiosity bubbling all throughout me until I had to bounce my leg in an attempt to calm myself down. I’ve went through far to much emotion in this short morning. This day will go by slowly I take it.
Suddenly, Minnie walks through the door to personally inform our teacher that Remus, Sirius and James will not be attending this morning. Part of their punishment requires them elsewhere. I sigh and slump in my chair, a long day indeed.
Taglist:
@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess @1975weasley @nicodoesntexist @goto-hi-this-is-my-brain @yoyoitsbella @ftwert @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @blackpinkdolan
@holdenviolet @katie-lupin05 @acoustic-archie @trishizzl @accio-willtolive-lmao @ilistentotayswifttocope
#young remus imagine#remus lupin#young remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#the marauders#the marauders fanfiction#young marauders#marauders era fic#harry potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter imagines#remus angst#fluff#ABBA#jily#james potter#sirius black#peter pettigrew
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Colors: Masquerade
Ship: Hyunjin x Fem reader
Non idol au, Soul Mate AU
Warnings: sarcasm, bitter feelings, tripping over things, slight hitting/slapping (nothing violent), Chan is a tease, reader is implied to be older, I think that's it.
Word count: 4.2 k
A/N: So I wanted to write something for Hyunjins birthday. I always have been intrigued by Soul mate AUs so I wrote one. I haven't seen this one done before, so I hope you all like it. I plan on doing a one shot for each SKZ member for this AU. So some skz members will feature slightly in this and future stories. The series will be called Colors.
I hope you enjoy! And Happy birthday to Hyunjin! He is amazing, talented, and just drop dead gorgeous! Happy 21st international birthday! --story published Mar 19 2021 6:00pm MDT
---------------------------
Most people couldn't wait to meet their soulmate. The one person who would change not only your life, but your eyes.
Everyone was born with two different colored eyes, they say those colors determined your childhood. Overall they generalized the colors; Blues usually meant they were inspired kids, inspiring themselves and others to do great things. Green meant they had luck on their side. Brown had resilient personalities, bringing a sense of dependability to others. Purples were very independent and creative. Grays had a sophistication that most children lacked. And so on and so forth. By the time you reached middle school everyone knew what their exact eye colors meant, and some say it predicted how you would find someone.
Eyes however didn't remain two separate colors your whole life. Once you met your soulmate they changed almost in an instant, color shifting for a few seconds until your eye color perfectly matched that of your mates. Some say time seemed to stop once they noticed their mates' eyes changing, but one thing was for sure no one felt their eyes change color, the only thing they usually felt was their heart speeding up.
You originally couldn't wait to find your soul mate. You got caught up in the feeling of it all. You believed he would be everything you wanted and more. During your teens it's all you dreamed about, how you'd meet in some perfect way, how he would sweep you off your feet. However the past few years had made you bitter, watching friend after friend find their mate leaving you in the dust.
"You'll be the same when you find your mate" they would say as you grimaced as they would kiss and cuddle in front of you. Most of those so called friends never invited you to things anymore, because you couldn't relate because you didn't have someone. They said it was because they didn't want you to feel like the third wheel, but mostly you knew it's because they pitied you for not having someone. "It's a shame you don't have anyone, I hope he's still around somewhere"
You were starting to feel like you had some sort of disease, because that's how you were treated by those 'friends'.
Things only felt worse as you stared at the flyer someone slid under your door.
-----
Hyunjin pov
"Mandatory masquerade spring formal." He read as he lifted the flyer from the pile of mail next to his door. Hyunjin hated these mandatory regional events. At least this one was just a formal instead of a full costume ball, like the last one. The large cities throw these balls, three times a year. Anyone over the age of 20, who hadn't found their soulmate was required to go. This would be his third ball, he hoped it would be his last. Sure he wanted to meet his soulmate, but mostly he wanted all the girls who came to these things to stop throwing themselves at him, staring at his eyes hoping to see a change. Most would find it flattering, in fact Hyunjin did back in high-school he always loved the attention. Curious which girl would try during lunch that day. Now it was getting old, he wanted someone who truly saw his soul, not just his good looks.
Hyunjin sighed as he looked at himself in the floor length mirror, black suit pants, navy silk long sleeve button up with the top three buttons undone. A dark night sky scene was painted on the mask that rested on his nose. His long dark hair pulled away from his face. His eyes unchanged, still two different colors. One burnt umber, the other ocean blue.
He was curious of what color his eyes would change to once he met his soulmate, he heard it depends on how and when they meet.
For instance, his dad had similar eye colors to his before he met mom. They met on a stormy day, each on their way their jobs enjoying the rain. They met while dancing out in the light spring shower while waiting at a crosswalk. Now his parents both had beautiful bright gray eyes, the same color as the storm clouds as they parted for the sun that day.
Would his eyes turn the Navy he had chosen for this dance if he met her tonight? He sighed to himself, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his things and left his apartment.
--
Reader pov.
At least the food they provided at these mandatory balls was delicious, it seemed the only incentive that was worth the trouble of being here. The numerous hors d'oeuvres were delicious, and you had a plate full of all the different types to make sure they still tasted delicious.
Truthfully you hated being here. You had been to too many of these things to count. At this point you wondered if your soulmate was dead, or lost somewhere. Simply because you hadn't met him yet, and it felt as if time was ticking. Maybe that's because your friends all found their mates within the year you all turned twenty. Now here you were five years later, still with miss matched eyes. One pewter gray, one lavender.
You wore the same dress you always did to these balls. At first it made you feel amazing, like a princess. Now it only brought you bitterness. The purple satin that faded to blue, a galaxy made of glitter across the bodice. The mask on your face was silver, making your eyes seem to shine.
"You look bored" a familiar voice got your attention, as he sat at the empty table next to you. Dressed in all black as he usually was. Looking devilishly handsome as always.
"Chan, I'm always bored at these things. You're the only one who talks to me" you sighed leaning on the table as you looked towards him.
Chan was a god send at these things. He became your friend a few years ago, during one of these balls. His dimples made every girl swoon, it was the first thing you noticed about him, but what made you stay was the wonderful caring conversation that was so rare at these things. He actually wanted friends, not just a soulmate. He was truly a social butterfly.
"Maybe if you leave the table, and stop glaring at anyone who approaches, someone might talk to you." His mischievous eyes of emerald green and royal purple danced beneath his black mask, as he stole some hors d'oeuvres off your plate. Popping one into his mouth.
"Shut up Chan, not all of us are as charming as you!" you playfully hit his arm. He gasped softly and grabbed his arm in fake pain.
"I'm sure you could be somewhat charming. That is, if you took the "F off" stamp off your forehead." he teased making a face at you.
"Very funny" Rolling your eyes, looking back towards your plate of food, then towards the dance floor which was filled with eager young people, all dancing and talking. Switching partners every song or so. You watched as one couple suddenly stopped dancing, their eyes growing large. She squealed, jumping up and down as he hugged her. Another happy couple, another soulmate found.
You wanted to vomit.
"I want to know how neither of us have found our match, we've both been too far too many of these." You groaned, sliding down in your chair. Not caring how unladylike it was. You glanced towards Chan, who was just enjoying watching everyone.
"I suspect my match is elsewhere" his words wise, his eyes looking towards the newest happy couple fondly. "I think they might be at one of these in their own region"
"She probably is cursing your name right now, wondering why you are taking so long to find her." you started.
"Like you are cursing yours right now?" You wanted to smack that smirk off his face.
"Chan you can be infuriating." You stood, smoothing out your skirt. Chan chuckled following you. Knowing you wanted some fresh air.
"Maybe you don't want to crash the next regional dance with me." he nudged you as you both walked around the main crowd, towards the large outdoor balcony.
"Now that is a good idea, I didn't think you had any of those left" you looked towards him with a shocked expression. Your foot caught on something, then someone's body bumped into yours.
That's when you ended up flat on your back, your mask slightly askew.
The music seemed to stop. In fact it had. You looked at your converse clad feet which were tangled in the electrical cords from the DJ booth. Chan was laughing. The DJ scrambled from the booth to fix the electrical situation. You shifted, untangling yourself best as possible from the cords. Muttering a slight apology to the frazzled dark haired man, as he gathered the cords quickly.
"I'm so sorry!" A new voice said as he stumbled to his feet beside you. His navy shirt hanging loosely around him. "I wasn't even looking where I was going," he said, dusting himself off. Then looking at you, and offering a hand.
"It's my fault too, I wasn't looking." You said taking his hand, to help you to your feet. Then glaring at Chan who was beside himself with fits of laughter. "I was too busy chiding my friend" you gestured towards Chan, shaking your head.
"My name is Hyunjin" the handsome man smiled, his mask shimmered as the little iridescent stars caught light.
"Y/N " you said with a slight bow, fixing your mask.
"It's nice to meet you, I haven't seen you here before." he smiled, he was ridiculously attractive.
"Well she's been here, forever" Chan exaggerated as he leaned on your shoulder. You shoved him away.
"Shut up Chan."
"Well you have!" He put his hand up in mock defense.
"I'm so done with you!" You walked away, then turned to Hyunjin and gave a quick wave. He gave a small nod, as a girl approached him tapping him on the shoulder.
You took that as your queue to leave. You felt so done with everything, still hadn't felt that spark everyone gushed about. You felt slightly embarrassed about cutting the music with your own clumsy feet. You made a fool of yourself thanks to Chan, you just knew you needed out.
When you got home you were exhausted, and changed out of your gown, and quickly washed your face then just went to bed.
------
Hyunjin
Hyunjin nodded, as the strange but cute girl practically ran away. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder his attention was brought to a girl in a pink poofy ball gown. The music was starting up again, he knew she was going to ask him to dance. Why had he come in from the balcony?
"So I've been watching you all night. And…." Her eyes widened. "What color are my eyes?" She asked quickly, her words stumbling out of her mouth.
"Um.." Hyunjin cocked his brows as he looked closer, kind of confused. "Dark blue, and light green?"
Her face fell, then he saw multiple emotions flash over her face, ending in anger.
"Why are you here if you already have a soulmate? Shouldn't you be with them!" She practically yelled. Hyunjin was confused, as the girl slapped his arm and ran away. What a strange turn of events. First he ran into that girl, Y/n? Now he just got some weird girl thinking he had a soulmate, these balls got worse every time, maybe he would call it a night.
He went to the bathroom, still bewildered by the weird situation that just happened. As he took off his mask he looked in the mirror.
"What the hell?!" He yelled at his reflection, leaning on the counter, getting closer to the mirror. Both ofHis eyes a bright flaming orange. He felt as if he was looking at a campfire in his eyes. His mind started reeling. How had he met his soulmate? He had barely talked to anyone all night, he had hid on the balcony outside for the first hour of this thing, just eating the hors d'oeuvres that were provided. He then came inside to try to make the night worthwhile, and while looking at the decorated ballroom, he ran into someone, literally. That's when it clicked, the girl he literally ran into, it had to be her. She was the only one he talked to!
"Y/N, I've got to find Y/N!" He grabbed his mask and ran out of the bathroom.
Two hours of searching later, Hyunjin sat defeated at a random table. He sat his mask down and slumped in the chair, as he watched happy couples in pairs all around the room. That's what was supposed to be happening to him right now, staring into his soul mates eyes, dancing the night away without a care in the world.
Who had ever heard of a soulmate who didn't know. A soulmate who didn't say anything. These stupid masks, they cover up half your face, distorting the eyes. The dark room. How did they expect people to see the change with those factors?
He always heard that when you saw the change and knew, but he hadn't seen her eyes change, plus she ran off so quickly. Maybe he should've gone after her. No, that would've been creepy, plus he didn't know at the time.
What was he supposed to do? He wasn't even sure exactly what she looked like. That's when he saw his chance. He swears that's Y/Ns friend from earlier, in the all black and black mask talking to the DJ right now. Hyunjin quickly stood and bee lined towards the man in black.
"Excuse me, your Chan right?" Hyunjin said, approaching him.
"Yes, and you're Hyunjin?" The man smiled, as Hyunjin nodded. Chan resumed watching the people on the dance floor in front of him.
"Yeah, I, uh, ran into your friend Y/N earlier" Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck.
"Yeah you did, quite literally." he chuckled, side eying and gently elbowing Hyunjin.
"Well that's the thing. I kind of need to find her."
"Did she break your phone or something?" He asked.
"No, she's kind of my soulmate." Hyunjin blurted.
"What?" Chan choked on air, as his eyes bugged out. He turned and grabbed Hyunjin's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he saw the orange in his eyes.
"She's the first one I talked to tonight at this stupid thing. After hiding on the balcony. I didn't even know it happened til another girl started to flirt with me." Hyunjin now turned his attention to the dance floor.
"I'm sorry to tell you, but she's long gone." Hyunjin felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I figured, since I've been looking for her for over two hours" he heard the other male grimace on his behalf.
"So I was wondering if you could help me out. All I know about her is her first name." Hyunjin looked towards his shoes, trying to distract himself with the nice polished shine.
"Well I could help," Chan smirked and Hyunjins head snapped up looking at him, "but I'm not sure I owe Y/N the courtesy of helping her out." Chans mischievous two toned eyes shone playfully.
"I thought she was your friend" Hyunjin was slightly confused, yet again this evening.
"Oh she is, she just owes me after bailing on me tonight." He looked at his phone. "And being as I have no messages from her freaking out. I bet she didn't even notice before she went to sleep"
They exchanged information, Chan excited to be in the middle of this. Curious of how you would react in the morning. Promising Hyunjin to keep him informed.
-----
Your pov
The blaring alarm on your phone made you groan, you silenced it and rolled back over. Some days you wish you didn't have to work, but being a manager over editing on the largest magazine in the city meant you couldn't miss work. Yet you still fell back asleep.
When your alarm went off to tell you it was time to leave you woke up in a panic. You quickly showered and dressed, grabbing some breakfast then you were out the door, not even bothering with makeup as you were going to be late.
"Oh my gosh! Tell me everything!" Joy, your second in command gushed as you entered the office.
"Nothing out of the ordinary at those stupid balls. Food again was the only reason to attend" you muttered as you set your things down on your desk, and plopped in your chair.
"Obviously that's a lie! Now tell me what really happened!" Joy pestered. Her vivid seafoam green eyes, staring you down. She found her soulmate just after she started working with you, but she always wanted to gossip and talk about those meeting their matches. It intrigued her for some reason.
"I told you everything. I went ate food, watched all the stupid romantic couples, headed outside. Tripped on the cords for the DJ booth then left." You huffed, leaning back. She put her hands on your chair making you face her. You cocked your eyebrows at her.
"You don't know? How can you not know" Her words confusing, and accusing.
"Joy, what are you talking about?" You groaned. She then dug in her purse bringing out her compact.
"I know I didn't do my makeup today."
"Just look in the mirror"
"But-"
"Just look in the mirror Y/N" you grabbed the compact from her hand and looked at yourself, trying to see what she was talking about. Nothing seemed out of place, you didn't have any bruises from the collision last night. You went to close the mirror when you glimpsed orange. You immediately pulled it back to your face. Eyes wide.
"I…. What?" Your words lost and confused.
"Now tell me about him!" She sat on the edge of your desk looking at you.
"I only talked to Chan last night. And we both know he isn't my match" you sat staring at the mirror in your hand. Going through everything that happened, you grabbed your phone. Quickly texting Chan.
--What color are your eyes???
you hadn't heard of knowing someone for years before they became a soulmate but you had to ask.
"Well you had to have met someone new" she nudged your leg.
"That's the thing, I don't remember talking to anyone else. Just Chan annoying me, then-" the sudden realization hit you. "I ran into someone, literally"
"Of course that's how you would meet your match" she nodded. "You are kind of clumsy"
"Oh hush!" You pushed her slightly, she just laughed.
"So tell me about him"
"Um, he was handsome? I think his name was Hajun? No, Hyunwoo? I don't remember. I was a little frazzled last night. Plus we only talked for a second after we both ended up on the floor" you muttered, leaning back in your chair again looking at the ceiling. When your phone buzzed.
-why are yours perhaps a different color
-say orange? 😏
--Well I never expected you to be my soulmate after all this time….
- what are you going on about? My eyes are still a perfect green and purple.
--Chan what do you know...
- Far more than you think
--Chan tell me! Did you talk to Hyunwoo?
-I don't know a Hyunwoo.
-do you perhaps mean Hyunjin?
-- YES! Hyunjin! Are his eyes also orange
-- dumb question
--you told me orange before I told you what color my eyes are.
-this is actually very entertaining
- you're over thinking everything aren't you.
-- Shut up Chan!
-- Do you have his info
- Maybe, but you told me to shut up so I will!
--Chan! No!
-- Please!
--I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you! I need his number.
- Only if you do something for me
-- I don't like where this is going...
- you never do.
- dinner 6 pm tonight, at Ombu downtown.
- be there and I might give you what you want after you pay for dinner.
-- You only like me for my money
- I have more money than you!
--So you say, but I always pay.
- just meet me at 6.
"So Chan knows who it is, but won't give me his information" you said looking at Joy who was now actually working at her desk. Like you should be.
"Typical Chan, let me guess. Making you buy him dinner in exchange for the information." You nodded. "I swear whoever his soulmate is better cook well, he will do anything in exchange for food" she shook her head.
Work was over soon enough, and so you changed into jeans and a blouse, did a small amount of makeup and headed downtown. Ombu was your typical spot to go with Chan. Delicious Korean barbecue, their meat selections far better than the other places around. Which is why Chan always insisted on going there.
"Welcome, Y/N! Chan is already waiting for you" Rose the usual hostess said guiding you towards your usual back corner booth, Chan loved this booth, he could people watch and it had the best hot plate.
"Thanks Rose!" You say as she motions towards the table. Your eyes grew as you looked at the table. Not only seeing Chan, but you couldn't stop staring at the orange eyed man next to him. "Hyunjin, right?" You said softly as you took your seat, he nodded a smile came across his face as he stared at you.
You finally started to understand why those couples would just stare into one another's eyes. His eyes were intriguing, bringing you a sense of peace. His eyes looked like the flames of the comforting campfires you enjoyed so much as a child. You almost wanted to just curl up and look in his eyes forever.
"Well, now I can see this is going to be awkward. So I'm just going to order food to get the dinner started" Chan said. You hadn't even realized the waiter had come to the table to take your order.
"Sorry" you and Hyunjin muttered at the same time. Followed by nervous giggles.
"I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," you said to Hyunjin. "Chan wanted dinner in exchange for your information. I didn't think he would bring you"
"Well, I asked him to keep me informed last night, after I couldn't find you. So once he told me you guys were getting dinner I wouldn't let him tell me no" his hand drifted towards yours on the table.
"So you're persistent," you noted.
"Very." He smirked moving closer.
"Look, guys I want dinner. Can't you guys make heart eyes at each other afterwards. I just want to eat. And if this continues, you guys are going to make me sick." Chan groaned.
"I'll try to behave," you said as you reached towards Hyunjins hand, taking it in yours.
"You don't know how to behave." Chan teased. You just rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You usually would say something back, but you were slightly distracted by the soft circles being drawn by Hyunjins thumb on the back of your hand.
Two weeks later you sat in Hyunjins apartment. Cuddling as you watched an action comedy. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped around you. You started to get to know your match well. You found out he worked at the large musical academy. He taught dance, and music history. He was doing quite well for himself, he had a nice place, a car, and was decently responsible with his money.
Hyunjin was your soulmate, your match. Aside from that first night at ombu with Chan; the two of you did your best not to be disgustingly cute in front of those who didn't have their match yet. Such as his roommate Han, who usually ended up joining the two of you for movie nights.
Truthfully life was good, you felt less bitter about it all. Of course it wasn't perfect, and you still had a lot to learn about the other, but this was what you needed. You needed someone who was whole, who had a kind heart and soul. And that was what you got, it was just a perk that he was ridiculously attractive.
Hyunjin was grateful to have finally found you too. He didn't mind being younger. He loved your caring heart, protected by its sarcastic shell. He couldn't believe he met someone who already had so much drive and compassion. He loved your playful banter with his friends, he was grateful you accepted his friends and did your best to make them comfortable. Plus he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you. In his mind you were perfect in every way, despite the flaws you insisted you had.
He felt lucky being the first of his friends to find his match.
-- Orange meaning: warmth, enthusiasm, success, encouragement, change, determination, stimulation, happiness, fun, sexuality, freedom, expression, and fascination. --
#happy Hyunjin day#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids fan fiction#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz fanfic#skz hyunjin#skz soulmate au#soulmate au#stray kids soulmate au#hyunjin soulmate au#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#skz angst#stray kids angst
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under the light of the fireflies
pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader
synopsis: every summer, you fall deeper in love with a forest spirit who never ages. inspired by hotarubi no mori e.
tag(s): fluff, angst, you might cry!, wrote this while stressed and nostalgic ; wc: 1.7k
you first meet miya atsumu when you are six and he is seventeen.
(he is actually one thousand and seventeen, but you don’t know that and you never will.)
you meet him at the edge of a clearing–– the only open space you’ve discovered in the miles of forest you’ve lost yourself in. it was right behind grandmother’s house and just beckoning for you to come take a look, so it’s not really your fault you lost your way. that’s what you told him.
the boy’s a little strange-looking. his hair is whitish-gold–– a shade you’ve never seen on any human–– and he wears a mask that makes him look like a fox. bluntly, you ask if he’s a ghost. even worse, you try to poke him to see if you’re right.
he laughs while dodging it and says no, but warns you that if you touch him he’ll disappear forever. and then he makes you grab the other end of a stick and leads you right out of the forest back to your grandmother’s house, letting out a noise of agreement every now and then as you tell him about yourself, that you’re here for the summer, that you’re currently in first grade at a school in tokyo, that you’re friends with a boy called shouyou, that you––
“wait, mister!” you call out just as his body starts to disappear back into the woods. “what’s your name?”
he pauses.
“atsumu,” he says over his shoulder. “don’t wear it out, kid.” and then he chuckles to himself–– a little sadly, since you were pretty entertaining to have around–– because he knows he won’t hear it from you ever again.
he’s proven wrong (and happily so, because he’s just a kid himself and it gets lonely in the forest) when you show up at the temple where he lives the very next afternoon.
and the next.
and the next.
and the next.
after that, you spend every summer running through the forest with a human-looking spirit boy and a stick between your hands.
and then you turn twelve and move to the states. the summers in the forest are pushed to the back of your mind.
(the boy isn’t.)
loneliness takes your place beside atsumu for four summers.
you meet again when you are sixteen and he is seventeen.
he can hardly believe it when he sees who you’ve become: a stunning young woman with a smile like the sun. it’s a welcome sight; he’s seen a few too many cloudy days.
“you’re back,” he blurts, eyes wide in surprise. quickly, he gets up from the patch of grass he’d been laying on and–– and... he thinks this is the appropriate moment humans hug. when their feelings are so strong that their bodies move for them. but miya atsumu is not human and he’ll die if he touches one. so he keeps his arms by his sides.
(they still twitch, though.)
you rest your hands on your hips and roll your eyes. “no, this is my apparition speaking to you.”
atsumu grins. that biting sense of humour you’d brought to him as a child had only grown sharper. you’re you, but better. he sits back down on the grass and pats the space beside him.
and like that, you fall back into pace. you tell him about what happened in the years you were gone, the friends you made at school, the things you learned. what america looks like.
you say you missed him.
yearning slowly washes over his amber eyes. for what, he isn’t sure.
“you’re lucky you get to leave,” he sighs, leaning back on his arms. he stares up at the patch of sky formed by the treetops. actually, you’re lucky in many other ways. atsumu’s gaze falls onto your hands.
frowning, you bring your knees up to your chest. “i’m sorry.”
“don’t worry about it.” he offers you a small smile. “guess you just gotta bring the world to me, then.”
when he walks you home that evening, you promise you’ll show him every part of the world, no matter how long it takes you.
(he hopes it takes you a long time. he hopes it takes you forever.)
atsumu is sleeping when you show up in the clearing the next day. he lies on grass with his hands folded over his stomach and the fox mask you’ve never seen him without tossed carelessly beside his head.
and he’s beautiful.
your breath hitches in your throat as you tiptoe closer, admiring his slightly upturned nose, pale pink lips, thick, curled lashes, honey tinted skin.
you want to touch him.
suddenly, one of his eyes cracks open.
“hello,” he drawls. the corner of his mouth curls up in a mischievous smile. yelping in surprise, you jump back with a hand to your chest.
“did you plan that?” you ask, eyes still wide from the shock.
he doesn’t reply but the laugh that leaves his lips is an answer enough. you look at the fox mask on the grass. a strange sort of curiosity seeps into your thoughts. it’s so much of who atsumu is. surely it contains some of his essence. the urge to hold it causes your fingers to twitch.
atsumu follows your gaze and picks up the mask. “wanna try it on?” he offers, gingerly holding it out in front of you.
it doesn’t fit on you the way it does for him. but something leaps in his chest when he sees you with it.
(his chest does it again when you hand it back and he sees the faintest trace of your lip gloss where the mouth should go.)
“so,” you say, clasping your hands together. “what’re we doing today, ‘tsumu?”
the blond tells you he found a little cave by the river down south. “it’s pretty cool,” he says, a goofy grin on his face.
when you hold up that same gnarled wooden stick from years ago with a “let’s go, then” dangling off your lips, his stomach churns. atsumu realises he doesn’t want to hold that.
he wants to hold your hand.
(your lip gloss tastes like citrus and mint.)
you meet for the last time when you are both seventeen.
“you said you’ve never tasted a cheesecake, right?” you call out, setting down the bag you hauled from tokyo on the grass. it’s noon and there are hardly any shadows around, but you can’t find atsumu in the clearing.
he’s here, though. you can feel it.
“well, hello to ya, too.” atsumu jumps down from the branch he’d been sitting on. he’s happy to see you, not that you can tell.
“take your mask off, i thought we were past that,” you tease with a smile.
“do it for me,” atsumu lilts, clasping his hands behind his back, leaning forward so that your faces are just inches apart.
a flood of blood rushes through your veins.
breathing shallowly, you pinch the porcelain nose and lift it up off atsumu’s face, revealing a boyish grin underneath.
beautiful.
“hi,” he breathes, eyes twinkling.
you gulp.
seeing your frazzled state, atsumu laughs. he opens up the bag and pulls out the slice of cheesecake.
“thank you,” he says over his shoulder.
(he makes you feed him the first bite.
and then he feeds you the second.)
on your last day, he tells you that there’s a spirit festival happening at night.
“is that your way of inviting me?” you ask, noticing how he’s dressed in a dark blue yukata instead of his usual shirt and shorts this time.
“no.” from behind his back, atsumu pulls out a dazzling set of red robes. “this is.”
that evening you stroll through the spirit festival with a red cloth wrapped around your hands. he wins you a little necklace that you wear immediately at one of the game booths; you order takoyaki to share at the food stalls; and you end the night watching a puppet show.
atsumu walks you home as fireworks bloom in the dark sky.
“thank you for the night,” you hum, swinging your arms lightly.
“thank you for being my date,” atsumu replies.
instantly, you whip your head around. with a wide grin, you ask, “did you say date?”
atsumu stops in the middle of the dirt road and smiles softly at you. the pale moonlight makes his skin glow. amber eyes shine as bright as his hair. this moment feels different than any other you’ve had in your life. “i did.”
“i don’t know what it is about you,” he admits, “but i want you around me all the time. i wanna hold you. and kiss you. do things like real people do.” he chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. “is that weird?”
“not at all,” you breathe, frozen in waiting.
“can i?” he asks. “kiss you?”
you nod.
atsumu pulls out the porcelain mask from his robe pocket and places it over your face.
and softly, his lips touch your cheek.
a warmth spreads from your heart all through your body.
“a lot of things keep us apart, don’t they?” he laughs, resting his forehead against your masked one. “but i feel like we’ll find a way to stay together.”
you open your mouth to agree, to confess that you’ve been in love with him since he found you in that forest, that you spent every summer away thinking about him, that you spend every moment of the school year thinking about him, that––
but in that moment, two kids run past atsumu and one trips over his sandals. instinctively, atsumu grabs him by the arm and hoists him back up, smiling when the kid says thank you and continues running like nothing had even happened.
but something had happened.
a strange look comes over atsumu’s face.
“‘tsumu…” you say, staring at his hand. it’s dissolving, breaking into bright blue shards and floating up into the sky.
atsumu lifts the hand up and inspects it slowly. somehow, it’s not much of a surprise. he’s never been the lucky type.
(meeting you was an exception.)
“that was a human kid, wasn’t it?” he sighs.
panic–– a cold, cruel hand–– seizes your heart. a black hole opens in your chest when you realise what this means. “atsumu, i––” love you.
atsumu cuts you off and says your name as his other hand starts flaking away.
“c’mere,” he whispers, grinning with tears in his eyes. “i can finally touch you.”
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spiral
The first three months after Zhaitan’s defeat. (Or, the story of how the person widely considered “the best at emotions” was once absolutely horrible at managing her own.)
Warnings: depression, self-harm (in a very Kerra-specific way), feeling worthless, cognitive distortions (Kerra gets an idea into her head that is just...inaccurate)
Word count: 4466
I’ve been trying to work on this fic for a while, and it’s been really hard because Kerra’s my OC whose mental health issues are closest to my own. But it’s done now, and I’m sure it’s not perfect, but I’m proud of it, and it means a lot to me. So, here you go; hopefully this speaks to someone else, too.
(and @mystery-salad because forever ago you mentioned that you’d be interested in seeing this fic concept if I ever wrote it!)
It happened in the span of a single moment.
Trahearne had finally, finally joined the party. Rel had gotten his lute from who knows where and was taking song requests. Destiny’s Edge was talking and laughing, and she even saw Caithe smile. Everywhere Kerra looked, her friends and the rest of the Pact were drinking, chatting, relaxing, or dancing.
And, for once, no one was watching her.
So she tilted her head back, letting the sun and confetti (who brought confetti?) cover her face, giggling at the unfamiliar touch of colorful paper scraps. She spun around, arms outstretched and eyes closed and, miraculously, managing not to hit anyone.
It was pure, utter joy combined with I’m done, I did what I was made for, I’m done and I can just be me—
Kill the dragon.
Kerra stumbled. That couldn’t be right. Zhaitan was dead, and her Hunt was—
Kill the dragon, her mind insisted.
The world didn’t stop. It would have been easier if it had. Instead, the celebration continued, with laughter and Rel’s music as omnipresent noise.
It took everything in her not to scream.
****
The Pact wanted to lift her up on a pedestal for what she’d done. And she didn’t deserve it, so she had to leave.
She wrote notes to each of her friends and left them near their things, going mostly unnoticed as she slipped out of the party. Thank you for everything you’ve done, she said. I am going to where I can help the most, and that’s not here right now. I’ll come back.
I love you.
****
Her first stop was Caledon.
Cern was pleased to see her and told her stories of his new recruits taking down a particularly large troll in the swamps. Tatli and Cueyatl welcomed her into the Hazupl camp, and a few sylvari were there, too, talking to the hylek young. Llew gave her updates on Astorea—the defenses were holding, though Nightmare Court attacks had increased of late.
The only place she stayed overnight, though, was the Weeping Isle. Eona hugged her, congratulated her, and asked after Rel. She gave bare-bones information, took care of some wave riders, and fell asleep in the same guest room she’d taken earlier that year.
In her dreams, she walked a bloody battlefield, utterly alone. She saw so many dead faces, along with the living who mourned their losses. With each one she spotted, a memory flashed. Minei and Cio screaming and fighting to get back into the fortress on Claw Island. Ceera calling her “Commander of death.” Elli’s expression as she tore into the Risen marksman. Tybalt imploring her to trust him. Trahearne asking the Pale Tree for forgiveness as they closed the gate to Fort Trinity. The hate in Tiachren’s eyes slowly turning to fear as he died.
And above it all, the incessant drumbeat of this is your fault, your fault, your fault. You were Commander and this wasn’t what you were meant for and so every death is on your head and yours alone because you made a mistake. You pursued the wrong Hunt, and you will look at what you’ve done.
The land and the bodies went up in smoke, and she welcomed the flames even as she burned, too.
Come morning, Eona found Kerra’s bed neatly made and the Commander herself long gone.
****
In Kessex, the bandits put a price on her head.
In Sparkfly, the krait learned to flee from her on sight.
In Brisban, the Inquest cursed her as their labs exploded.
Sometimes, those she helped asked for her name. She began introducing herself as Lin. It felt…maybe not right, but right-adjacent, and it gave her a sense of distance.
Sometimes, they asked her to stay—an asuran krewe who appreciated her particular brand of dragon expertise, a rough-edged gladium who saw a kindred spirit, and a small human boy who watched her train the Claypool militia with wide eyes, to name a few.
She never stayed more than a few days. It tore her apart each time.
She slept less and less.
****
Felix worried more about her with every passing day.
Kerra could feel it, and she wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t have the words to calm him.
“You can leave, dearheart, if this is too much,” she said once, softly. “You can leave if…if I’m too much.”
Not too much, never, Felix insisted, bumping his head into her thigh and letting out a deep purr. But you’re hurt. I want to help.
“You can’t.” It came out too sharp, and they both winced. “It’s…I’m not scratched, or stabbed, or corrupted. I didn’t break a bone.” I wish I had. I wish this pain was visible. I wish I had scars for all of them.
Some nights, she considered giving herself those scars.
That doesn’t make you not hurt, Felix insisted.
Kerra had nothing to say except but I deserve it, and she knew Felix wouldn’t want to hear that. So, she just pulled him onto her lap and against her chest, burying her face in his fur, eyes dry.
****
Her thoughts wouldn’t stop chasing each other in circles. Her Wyld Hunt pulsed at the back of her mind constantly, like the beginning of a headache.
Kill the dragon.
WHICH dragon? she’d scream back. It never answered, no matter how many times she asked.
But she could function on two hours of sleep a night. She could fight. She could help.
That’s all that mattered.
****
She stopped at the Black Citadel for provisions. She’d intended to avoid Rytlock, but one of his subordinates spotted her at a vendor’s stall and (as politely as possible) dragged her to his office.
“Commander!” Rytlock said, happily standing up and pushing his paperwork to the side. “Thought you were back at Fort Trinity.”
“I was,” Kerra said, just a little too shortly. “I’m on my way to Hoelbrak.” Not entirely false; she was indeed heading in that general direction.
“On foot?” Confusion. “You didn’t waypoint or take an airship?”
“I wanted to take the scenic route.” A small smirk, and, again, not entirely a lie.
“Fine by me.” Rytlock grinned, his smile very full of teeth. “Don’t suppose you’d care to help me take out a Flame Legion post before you leave?”
“I’d be happy to,” Kerra said, smiling back and inclining her head before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Felix followed close behind.
“Commander!” Rytlock shouted after her. He muttered something about “I was saying we’d go together,” but Kerra was halfway down the stairs by then and barely heard him.
The outpost was empty within three hours. Kerra was gone in four.
****
She’d stopped shielding her mind somewhere along the line. She couldn’t remember exactly when.
Emotions swirled through her, positive and negative and in-between. Most of them left, but their imprints remained.
She kept fighting. She kept killing, when necessary, and the pain grew and grew and grew. Her burden. Hers. Deserved, she thought.
She racked up invisible scars by the thousands.
****
As much as she told herself the pain was necessary, it also was exhausting—which is how she got her first serious injury since leaving Orr, forcibly bringing her spiral to a halt.
She was at Victor’s Point with a man named Gareth and his three children. Said children had performed some sort of ritual to summon a bear. The ritual instead managed to summon several dozen bears, and soon the homestead was overrun.
While Felix helped Gareth take down a particularly large bear, Kerra heard a scream from the nearby shed and whipped around, running as fast as her legs would carry her across the snow.
A child she hadn’t met yet, a small one with short white-blond hair, was cowering under a workbench. They held a pen in their right hand like a dagger, jabbing it in the direction of yet another bear trying to stick its head under the table. It growled at them, showcasing its set of sharp teeth.
Not wanting to risk hitting the child, Kerra unsheathed her dagger and leaped on top of the bear. But she’d underestimated its ferocity and overestimated her remaining strength, and it threw her off, slamming her into the stones of the nearby fireplace.
Holding her head, she tried to get up, but its claws gauged deep marks across her chest, and she dropped her dagger at the sudden spasm of pain. She scrambled backwards, shielding the child with her own body as they screamed. Felix roared somewhere in the distance.
She struggled to stay conscious as the bear reared up on its hind legs, trying to figure out if she could muster up enough energy to kick it in the stomach. But she didn’t have to.
A blue shield appeared around her—guardian magic, she thought deliriously. Logan? The mace that whacked the bear in the head was decidedly not Logan’s, though, and Logan wasn’t that tall, and his skin wasn’t that dark. But whoever this was, the child was safe.
“Hey, stay awake!” a voice called out urgently as her eyes slid shut. She heard a distinct crack in it and felt the owner’s concern for her. Funny, she thought in an unappreciated moment of irony, for them to care so much about someone they’ve never met.
****
Kerra must have dreamed, then, but all she remembered was what woke her up—yet another whisper of kill the dragondeep in the back of her mind.
She sat up with a jolt, nearly whacking her head on the beams above her.
Her savior was talking in hushed tones to Gareth nearby, but whatever they were saying was immediately drowned out by Felix, who meowed loudly and started purring at the top of his lungs. He gently butted his head against her shoulder. Thank you for staying. Don’t leave.
“I’m—” she coughed, clearing her throat and trying to ignore what felt like the worst headache of her life. “I’m okay, ‘Lix, I’m okay, I’m still here.” She gently laid a hand on his flank, and he turned his head and licked it with his rough tongue, making her laugh weakly and then wince as the action sent a flare of pain through her body.
“You sure you’re okay?” her mysterious savior said, approaching her bedside. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
“I heal fast,” Kerra said, meeting their eyes. They were tall, but their face was young. “Thank you for your help.”
“No problem,” the tall child said. “I’m Braham, he/him. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Lin. She/her is fine. It’s nice to meet you, too.” A memory slotted into place, and she gasped, frantically looking around for her weapons. “Are the children all right? How long was I unconscious?”
“Easy!” Gareth said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he approached. “Yes, all the children are safe, and you were only out for about an hour or so.” He coughed meaningfully, and a snow-blond head peeked out from around his legs. “Mikkel is a bit shy, but he wanted me to thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mikkel,” Kerra said, her eyes softening as they met the child’s. “You were very brave, you know.”
The boy squeaked and hid again behind his father’s legs. Gareth just laughed. “I daresay he was! But that thanks comes from me as well, young one. We were lucky to have you with us today.”
“The thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary, Gareth,” Kerra replied, dipping her head a few inches. When she lifted it back up—slowly, struggling against the pounding in her head—she found Braham looking at her curiously. But he shook his head, seemingly dislodging whatever thought he’d had, and nodded.
“I’m glad you’re okay and that I could help, but I gotta get going,” he said, standing up.
“Where are you headed?” Kerra asked, leaning back slightly against the pillows.
“Hoelbrak,” Braham answered, frowning. “I need someone to help me defend my hometown, Craigstead—it’s been invaded by some group calling themselves the Molten Alliance. I figured asking Knut Whitebear was worth a shot.”
Kerra frowned, too, both at Braham’s words and at the implication of his tension and fear. “Who else did you ask?” And why didn’t you try Hoelbrak first?
“Tribune Brimstone. He didn’t believe me.”
“What didn’t he believe?”
Braham’s face closed, but she could feel his flare of anger; it wasn’t directed at her, though, not really. “With all due respect, sylvari, it’s not really your business—”
“I know Rytlock,” Kerra interrupted, ignoring Gareth’s shock and the way Mikkel’s eyes lit up. And though the last thing she wanted was to go back to Rytlock or any of her friends and hurt them again… “I can help; I’ve convinced him to get off his…behind…before. Let me help. What didn’t he believe? That your town was under attack?”
She could tell Braham wasn’t quite convinced that she was being honest, but he sighed and shrugged. “That, and the fact that my full name is Braham Eirsson. My mother—” He said the word with a disgust Kerra didn’t understand. “—is Eir Stegalkin.”
Kerra blinked. “Your mother is who?”
Braham crossed his arms. “You heard me.”
“No, I did, and I believe you—sorry. I just…” She trailed off, took a breath, and continued. “I know your mother, too, then. And I’m aware that I can’t move much at the moment, but if Whitebear doesn’t agree to help you, come back and find me. Either I’ll convince someone to help you, or I’ll do it myself.”
Surprise mixed with persistent disbelief and gratitude. “Okay, then. You’re an odd one, Lin.”
She laughed, dry and short, absorbing the flicker of pain that came with it. “So I’ve heard.” As he headed to the door, she added, “You better come back and at least let me know how things go, okay?”
It was Braham’s turn to laugh, though his was more sincere. He did a goofy half-bow-half-salute and said lightly, “You’ll be on my way, so sure thing, boss.”
****
Kerra wanted to leave. Gareth and his wife and his children were absolutely lovely, and she didn’t deserve any of it. But she was trapped in bed, healing. Careless.
She slept most of the time, waking up only to eat and pet Felix and thank Mikkel for bringing her water. Part of her wished she could just stay asleep, and part of her was absolutely desperate to move, to get out, to go anywhere but here where she was a burden and could do nothing. Always, constantly, back and forth.
I need to move.
You can’t.
I need to help.
You can’t do that, either.
I need to be worth something.
But you’re not.
I need you to shut up.
But I won’t.
I…I need my friends. And I need Trahearne and Caithe.
But you left them. They’re probably all angry with you.
You don’t know that.
And even if they’re not, you don’t deserve them.
…
Am I wrong?
****
On her fourth day at Victor’s Point, Kerra received a visitor.
Raised voices outside woke her. She rolled over to face the door, bringing her knees closer to her chest under the blankets.
“—asked you to state your business, sylvari.” Gareth’s voice. He was on edge and slightly angry.
“And I told you, I’m looking for Kerra. Is she here or not?”
Kerra’s eyes flew open in shock and recognition.
“There is no one by that name staying here,” Gareth replied. “I strongly suggest you try the next homestead.” A feeling of preparedness, as if his hand was on the hilt of his weapon.
Before she could think it through, Kerra called out, “Nisha?”
A brief scuffle and a shout, and the door banged open. Nisha’s clothes looked wrinkled, though still passably clean, and xe stood as tall as ever. And xe was scared and upset and relieved and so many other things that Kerra didn’t have the brainspace to work through.
Felix, however, didn’t have that problem. He leapt forward, and a very startled Nisha caught him in xyr arms. Xe stumbled backward into Gareth, who burst out laughing, animosity gone.
“Well, all right then! Lin, I see you know this person. Is it fine if I leave you two…” He glanced at a very loudly purring Felix, eyes twinkling. “Or you three to catch up?”
Nisha’s gaze caught hers and locked in, like the sight on one of xyr rifles.
Say yes.
Say no.
Say yes.
Say no. Say NO.
“Yes,” Kerra choked out, quiet but audible.
“Wonderful! I’ll be outside if you need me.” The door softly clicked shut behind him.
Silence for a few beats. Three, two, one.
Kerra took a deep breath and straightened, sitting up fully. “Hey,” she said tentatively.
Nisha gently set Felix down, a fierce edge in xyr eyes. Felix curled up next to the bed, eyes darting between the two.
“Hey?” Nisha repeated incredulously. “Hey?!”
Kerra flinched, and Nisha snapped xyr mouth shut with an audible click. When xe spoke next, xyr tone was flat. “Where have you been, exactly?”
“Helping people,” was all Kerra could say.
Nisha exhaled, frustration seeping off xem in waves. “My apologies. I should have phrased that better. Why did you leave Fort Trinity?”
“To help people,” Kerra repeated, helplessly.
“Why couldn’t you help people there?! I-I—” Nisha’s face twisted, though Kerra could see xem struggling to hide it. “You left us! And you didn’t say where you were going, not even to Trahearne or Caithe or my brother.” Xyr hand clenched into a fist, gripping and bunching up the fabric of xyr pants.
She had let them down. They were mad—at least Nisha was, and if xe was, probably everyone else was, too. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she started, “I’m s—”
“Do you have ANY idea how SCARED we were?!” Nisha shouted.
Kerra’s world screeched to a halt.
Wait. What?
“We could have lost you, and we would have had no way of knowing! You could have died, or disappeared, and none of us would have been able to do anything to stop it! We were terrified for you! And not because you’re not capable,” xe added hastily, brushing away tears on xyr own cheeks, and she’d made Nisha cry, she’d done that to xem, she’d hurt xem— “You are perhaps the best fighter I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean you can’t die.”
Something cracked in Kerra’s heart.
“Why do you—what about all the people who died because of me?” she shouted back, her voice breaking. She threw herself out of bed and onto her feet, the blankets falling in a disorganized tangle behind her. “What about them?”
“What—we were fighting an Elder Dragon! People were going to die!” Both of Nisha’s fists were clenched now. “And I hate that, but it’s the truth! If you’re saying that you think we could have made it all the way to Zhaitan with no casualties—”
“No, no, I’m not, I—all their deaths are my fault!” Kerra’s tone made Felix’s ears flatten, and she ignored Nisha’s rush of utter shock. “I don’t understand why you’d want to find me!”
“Why in Tyria would they all be your fault?” Xyr brow furrowed, and xe took one step towards her. “I disagree with the basic principle, but even if the deaths were entirely on the Pact leadership, shouldn’t they also be Trahearne’s—”
“NO!”
“Why not?!”
“BECAUSE I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THE COMMANDER!”
The room went dead silent. Kerra abruptly realized she was breathing hard and sat down on the edge of her bed.
“I was given a Wyld Hunt to fight and kill a dragon, Nisha,” she said, staring down at her hands. “The Pale Mother and Caithe both told me that the dragon was Zhaitan, but it clearly wasn’t, because Zhaitan is dead, and my Wyld Hunt is very much still there. Which makes this the wrong path for me, and therefore every action I’ve taken that’s led to where we are, with so many dead, is my fault. I should have figured out I was targeting the wrong dragon, I should have done better, I should have…” She trailed off, overwhelmed.
Silence again. When Kerra looked up, she met Nisha’s eyes, staring directly into hers. Sadness. Anger. Frustration.
Xe cleared xyr throat twice before speaking. “You write your own future, Ker. You’re not beholden to that one.”
“But Mother told me—”
“Mothers can be WRONG!” The fabric of Nisha’s coat tore with a soft ripping sound. But just like with Braham, the anger wasn’t directed at Kerra.
“I was given this Hunt by the Dream!”
“Shoots and thorns!” Nisha yelled, xyr voice cracking. “Why are you so certain you chose wrong, that you made some sort of mistake? You can still complete your Hunt! You can go after all the dragons! And you know why you have that option?” Desperation. Determination. “Because of everything you’ve done, because you’re the Commander, whether or not your Mother and the Dream originally thought you should be! You took down Zhaitan! You proved that Elder Dragons can be defeated, and now you don’t have to fight them alone!”
Xe took a deep breath. “Yes, people died, and it’s horrible.” New tears pooled in xyr eyes. “I…I still miss Sieran. But their deaths are not all your fault, and you saved so many lives, too, and…and I brought these.”
Xe shrugged off xyr pack and fiddled around inside it, pulling out a stack of papers and dropping them on Kerra’s lap. She just blinked.
Nisha sighed, more out of frustration with xemself than with Kerra. “Can you just look at them, please?”
Kerra spread out the papers, making sure to catch a few stray sheets before they fell to the floor.
They were notes, every single one of them written in a different hand. In a quick scan, Kerra saw Caithe’s graceful but clear cursive, Elli’s “i's” dotted with little hearts, and Minei’s deliberately blocky print. She looked back up at Nisha.
“What…what are these?”
“It was Rel’s idea,” xe said, now looking anywhere but Kerra. She could feel xem trying to rein in xyr emotions, though it was a bit late for that. “You gave us all some, so he thought that, if I could find you, I should give you some from all of us.”
Words upon words upon words. Her eyes were drawn to them as if by a magnet.
From Demmi: Thanks for believing in me.
From Cio: You saw past the fire, and you’re one of the few.
From Trahearne: You are the reason I didn’t give up, little sister.
From Shashoo: Quaggan believes in you, Commander!
From Riel: You do good work, agent. Keep it up.
From Elli: Keep fighting, Kerry. You’re damn good at it.
From Minei: They’re not saying why we’re writing these, but you better come back so I can thank you in person.
From Caithe: You showed me new purpose, Valiant. Thank you.
From Rel: You’re my best friend, Ker, and I love you. Stay safe.
And there were more, from soldiers she’d talked to once or sparred with or comforted, and some from people she’d never met. They said thank you and you led us to victory and you saved me and you were a friend when I needed one and many, many variations.
Nisha coughed, and when xe spoke, xyr voice was thick. “I didn’t write one. I’m not a writer. But thank you, Kerra. You’re the third friend I’ve ever made, and I’m so glad I met you.”
“Can I hug you?” Kerra blurted, nearly cutting xem off. She didn’t expect xem to say yes, but she desperately hoped—and then the notes were being carefully placed on the desk, and Nisha was next to her on the bed with xyr arms around her, and Felix was purring loudly from his spot on the floor as he told her I love you, too.
Kerra hugged xem back tightly, hiding her face in xyr shoulder, and they stayed that way until both their shirts were soaked with tears.
****
An indeterminable amount of time later, Kerra pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I can’t do this on my own, you know,” she said, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards. I can’t go back alone. I won’t feel better if I’m alone. I need help, and I need my friends, and maybe that’s okay for me, too, just like it’s okay for everyone else. She met Nisha’s eyes. “Will you stay with me?”
“I just found you,” Nisha said, quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Kerra smiled in earnest, then. “Good. Because you can’t do this alone, either.”
“I beg your pardon?” Nisha said, eyebrows raising. Surprise. Indignance. Acceptance.
“Neither of us are okay,” Kerra said, thinking of Nisha shouting about mothers (and Nisha shouting at all, when xe always stayed so composed). “And we have other people—other friends, our siblings—but…” She felt her glow flare, warming her face. “I’ll help you, when you need it, and you’ll help me when I need it. That’s the deal.”
“I wasn’t aware we were making a deal.” Amusement. Warmth.
Kerra dipped her head slightly, never breaking eye contact. “We are.” Her smile grew. “You know,” she said cheekily, “you really shouldn’t question your Commander—”
“You are aware that I’m not technically part of the Pact, right?” Nisha interrupted.
It was barely even a joke, but it shattered whatever tension remained. Kerra burst into slightly broken (but still genuine) laughter, the calm after the storm. She felt Nisha’s happiness and saw xyr grin, and it pushed back the flood farther.
It was just enough. For the first time in weeks, she pulled up her shields, shutting the world’s emotions out. It was a relief and a letting go, and she almost started crying again, but Nisha’s presence held her together.
She was far from okay—the drumbeat of it’s all your fault and the Hunt’s repetition of kill the dragon were still very much there in her head. But people cared about her. She had proof of that, though she still didn’t understand it. She was important to them, so she had to keep herself safe.
Maybe someday she’d be able to do that just for herself.
For now, she’d take the help, and she’d start to heal. And when Braham came back, she’d leave, with Nisha.
But it was all right to stay here, just for now. She was safe, and she was loved.
And she felt like she was home.
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35. Tim and MC please?!?! Love you tons!!
@kingkassam asked: 35. (I’m in love with my best friend) Tim and MC please?!?! Love you tons!!
Author’s note: Babe, thank you so much for your patience with me while waiting for me to write this (and answering some of my questions about season 1 since I haven’t played in forever). I love you so much and I hope you like this!
Warnings: Jen’s kinda a jerk? but other than that nothing
Summary: A year and a half after leaving the villa, Tim reevaluates his relationship
Word count: 2520
Masterlist
When Stars Align, They Burn Bright
A year and a half after Tim and Jen had won second place on Love Island, he was seated on a couch next to Jen, watching the season he was on for the first time since they had left the villa. It wasn’t that they avoided watching the show, they just wanted to live in the moment, get to know each other outside of the villa.
The villa was so different from the outside world; in the villa there were only so many options and everyone got along. Everyone was hot and kind of attracted to each other so it was easy to find someone you wanted to spend time with in there. But outside… proved to be more difficult. Jen’s parents didn’t like Tim and she wanted him to be someone he’s not. Sure, he’d put on a tie for a nice night out if needed but that wasn’t him on a normal day. They had their ups and downs, but it was Jen’s idea to watch their season. To watch them ‘reconnect’ for the first time and see them fall in love on screen.
But now, Jen was looking at him with the most horrified face he could imagine. The Tim on screen was currently narrating what happened during Cherrygate when his best friend found Levi and Cherry kissing right after a recoupling. Tim was smiling at the camera and rubbing the back of his neck. “At that moment, I swear it’s like everything hit me at once and in my brain I was like ‘mate, I’m in love with my best friend!’ and when I thought about Levi pieing her off like that, it drove me absolutely crazy.”
Jen flipped off the TV and flipped her hair off her shoulder before sighing. “Well that’s something I wasn’t aware of.”
Tim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, just like younger him did on screen. “Nothing ever happened, and we ended up happy together in the end.”
“Are we happy, Tim?” Jen’s voice came out softly and he could tell she was nervous. “Because I’m not sure I am, not anymore.”
“Is this because I forgot to shake your father’s hand when we met them for brunch the other day? Because I can-”
“Tim,” Jen’s voice brought him back to the present and his heartbeat picked up, sweat starting to gather around his brow. “Seriously, when was the last time you felt happy.”
Tim thought back on their relationship and sure, there were laughs here and there and Jen didn’t make him miserable, but the last time he was truly happy and not just going through the motions was probably about half a year of being outside of the villa.
The last year wasn’t horrible, not in the slightest, but all they were doing was staying together because it’s what everyone expected from them and they still liked the other enough, but they fell out of love a long time ago. Both of them knew it, yet no one wanted to admit it.
His silence hung in the room and Jen got up, wiping her sweaty palms on the leggings she was wearing. “That silence answers more than you could ever know.” Smiling softly at Tim, she moved to leave the living room. “I think this is the end of us, Tim. You don’t have to move out right away but also… please don’t linger.”
Tim couldn’t fault Jen for asking him to leave; this was her apartment originally, it’d be silly for her to move out and him to stay and so he pulled out his phone and dialed the one number of the person he knew would take him in, no questions asked.
“Hello?” Her voice was quiet, like how it used to sound when he’d wake her up from a nap on the sun loungers in the villa. “Tim?”
“Hey mate, how was your nap?” Tim teased and she giggled on the other end.
“Great before some monster woke me up!” She readjusted herself and sat up. “Are you ok? You don’t normally call me out of the blue.”
“Actually…” He trailed off not knowing how to start explaining things. “Wanna have a sleepover every night for an unknown amount of time?”
“Excuse me?” She was taken aback, Tim could tell by the way she laughed and he nervously laughed along as she questioned him. “What’s going on?”
“I think Jen and I broke up?” Reality was crashing down all around him and Tim felt himself start to break. “And I really need to spend time with a friend right now.”
“Oh Tim,” the tone of pity escaping her lips did nothing for him and a sob tore out of his throat. “When do you need me to pick you up? As soon as you need me, I’m there.” So, they planned that she would pick him up in three days and he was allowed to stay in her flat as long as he needed, all he needed was to buy some groceries from time to time.
After they finished their conversation, Tim started packing up his things, tentatively walking around Jen’s apartment while trying to gather up everything without running into her. He still had boxes left over from when he moved in and since Jenn didn’t like most of his decorating, all he really had to pack was some clothes and notebooks that held all the raps he wrote inside.
Sleeping on the uncomfortable leather couch Jen’s parents bought her for the next two night’s would be hell, but what got Tim through it was thinking about how he got to see his best friend soon.
When she pulled her car in front of the apartment complex later that week, it’s like a weight lifted off Tim’s shoulders and when she jumped out the car and wrapped her arms around his waist, Tim felt like a piece of his heart was put back in place.
“Oh my gosh I missed you so much.” He whispered, burying his head in her soft hair and she squeezed him tighter.
“I missed you too, Timye.” She responded, a teasing lilt in her voice as she brought back the nickname she gave him in the Villa. “Do you mind driving for a bit? I drove a long way here and I’m knackered. I need a little nap.”
Tim caught the car keys in his hand as she tossed them to him before bending to pick up a box full of clothes. “Yeah of course, I appreciate you coming to get me. Not many people would, to be honest.”
“Is that who I think it is?” Jen called out from the balcony and waved down at the girl standing next to Tim. “How’ve you been? It’s been forever hun!”
“I’m pretty good, yeah! Tim and I are gonna have a sleepover for a while! How are you, babe?” Tim saw Jen’s genuine smile drop off her face and get replaced with one of the fake ones, like the smile you plastered on your face when you ran into someone in the grocery store from primary school you never got along with but knew enough to exchange pleasantries. His stomach dropped as Jen’s cup of water got bumped by her elbow and the water poured over the railing, splashing onto his best friend.
“Oops, sorry hun! My mistake!” Jen nonchalantly waved off what she did and continued on. “I’m good, Levi’s gonna come visit me soon, want me to tell him you said hi?”
“Er, no that’s okay thanks, we’re not together anymore and haven’t really talked since we split.” Tim felt the girl stiffen next to him and he hurriedly moved to rush her to the car.
“I think we need to go, we have a long drive and don’t want to be driving all night. Come on, I’ve got some spare clothes you can change into.” Without looking at Jen, Tim grabbed his last few boxes and shoved them haphazardly into the back of the car and jumped into the driver's seat. Glancing at the girl in a soaking wet tee shirt, he gestured to all his boxes in the back. “Go on mate, you’re soaked. Take some of my clothes for now.”
“Thanks,” she replied before unbuckling and leaning on the seat to dig through the boxes. Tim had to keep his eyes on the road and not think about the fact if he looked over to his left that her bum would be right there in his view, but telling himself not to think about that caused him to think about it more than not. It was a relief when she turned and sat herself back in her seat.
When Tim turned to steal a glance at her, her shirt was off and she was working on flipping one of his gray tees the right way. The car swerved as Tim did a double take. “Mate, put some clothes on, my god!”
She laughed and the sound put another piece of his heart back in place. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini a million times before.”
“Yeah but seeing your undies just is… different.” Tim laughed at how ridiculous he sounded and he turned his attention back to the road. Once she had changed into some dry clothes, she propped her feet up on the dashboard and leaned her head on the window, eyes already closed.
Tim made sure to drive carefully and swerve softly to avoid any bumps that could have woken her up.
A week later, they were both sitting together on her dingy brown couch, her feet resting in Tim’s lap as he gently ran his hands over her calves before teasingly pinching one of her toes and making her squeal.
Once she had tucked her feet out of the way of Tim’s attacks, she turned to him. “Are you gonna tell me what happened between you and Jen that made you guys break up? Last we talked, you were considering buying a ring.”
Tim wasn’t sure how to explain, not really. So he said the only thing he could think. “Did you ever watch our season of Love Island?”
She shook her head no, so Tim got up to retrieve the TV remote sitting on its spot on the mantle and going to queue up the series, specifically the episode that caused Jen to voice her feelings about everything wrong with their relationship. “We were just going through the motions for the longest time, but we weren’t in love anymore. And then we watched this part of the series, and Jen just… she asked me if I was happy and I realized I wasn’t.”
Pressing play, Tim saw Cherry lean in to kiss Levi and the girl next to him tensed. “Tim? There better be a good reason you’re making me watch this. Because, ouch.”
He shushed her and pointed to the screen where Tim was now sitting on the beach hut chair, smiling at the camera. “What do I think about Cherry and Levi? Man, I hate what they did to her. Watching Levi pathetically graft on her for days and then when he got her he immediately pied her off? That’s shit, it really is. But after… when she came to me to comfort and just let me hug her for the longest time… At that moment, I swear it’s like everything hit me at once and in my brain I was like ‘mate, I’m in love with my best friend!’ and when I thought about Levi pieing her off like that, it drove me absolutely crazy.” The Tim on screen chuckled awkwardly as well as Tim did, the girl next to him had stilled, watching the TV intently. “Talia’s gonna help me come up with a plan to see if she’s interested in me, but I don’t think she is. That’s okay, Jen’s fit as hell and has been grafting on me some, so if it doesn’t work out I guess I have options! But this girl... she shines so bright, like a star. I don’t want to see her settle for someone who’s gonna burn out her bright light. She’s something special.” Tim’s best friend reached over and grabbed the TV remote, cutting off the rap he was currently spitting on screen.
“Tim,” she whispered, hand reaching blindly towards him. He offered his hand to her and his heart ached to meet her eye in that moment. As she grasped his hand tightly, Tim’s heart pounded intensely in his chest. “I never knew.”
“I know you didn’t. You seemed intent on making things work with Levi so I didn’t want to say anything and ruin our friendship and your relationship with him.” He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. “Are you mad at me?”
“Yes!” Her voice came out in a shout and neither of them expected it, both of them jumping and looking at the other wish eyes wide open before bursting into laughter. When they had calmed down, she rephrased. “I’m mad at you because I wish you would have told me. It would have saved me from a lot of what I thought was one sided pining.”
She looked up to meet his eyes and he saw sincerity all over her face. “You’re serious? You loved me back?”
“Seeing you with Jen killed me. Levi even knew that. Dunno how we lasted so long outside of the villa, to be quite honest with you.” She sighed and let go of his hand. “He knew I had feelings for you up until the day we broke up.” Without responding, Tim moved so his body was laying across the couch, his upper half laying in her lap. Her hands absentmindedly dropped to his hair and started massaging his scalp. “Are you okay?”
He knew the tears in his eyes would threaten to fall as soon as he met her soft eyes but he did anyway and her fingers immediately moved to wipe the salty drops away. “I just… I forgot what it felt like to feel loved and all of a sudden everything crashed into me at once and I just… this may be stupid to say but I love you. I always have, since that day in the villa that I realized it, and probably even before. I love you. I love you so much.”
She took his face in her hands, and squished his cheeks and he sat up and did the same, both of them staring intently into the others eyes, studying each other like this was the first time they saw each other openly. “It may be stupid, but I love you too. Tim, I love you.”
Hearing her say his name in that sentence pieced the rest of his heart back together, helped him come to terms with the last year where he fell out of love with Jen. But no matter how long it has been, he was constantly in love with the girl sitting in front of him, and it may be stupid, but love makes you do stupid things,
Curling into her soft body, Tim felt more at home than he’d felt in the last year and he couldn’t believe how lucky he got, it was like he got his own shining star.
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I'm curious about "a history of dead women in the city" (and also the Wellington one, of course)
Yusss!
“History of dead women in the city” - oh man one day I will write this. It's part of this world I'm creating called Babel and it follows this woman as she tries to figure out what happened to her sister who died years ago.
A long excerpt:
Here is a scene from our childhood: It’s a sunny day. Dappled. Portrait worthy sun. It brings out freckles. We are in the courtyard, my sister drawing and me watching her draw. On a large blanket by the well sits our parents. Our mother is laughing, her arms entwined with our father’s, they are so in love. They do not notice us. It’s one of those loves that perfumes air, that is intimate and consuming, where only they exist and nothing else.
‘That is what I want,’ Bellefrey says to me. She’s drawing my round face. Squinting, holding up her thumb, making a show of it. ‘I want a man who makes me feel sublime.’
‘Don’t you mean loved?’
Oh no, she means sublime. She wants to be a thunderstorm. A tsunami. A hurricane. Something you stand in awe of.
‘The word awesome is overused,’ she explains. ‘We use it too much. Everything is awesome. The food-stalls at the mid-summer carnival are awesome. The paintings by George Dier are awesome. The play at the Round was awesome. I’m awesome. You’re awesome. Everyone’s awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome.’ Her voices becomes mocking at the end.
‘But I am awesome,’ I protest. ‘I know how to make a penny appear from behind your ear.’ I sit up to perform the trick and she lets me fumble through it.
That was over thirty years ago when Bellefrey was seventeen and me, a mere ten.
Bellefrey wrote to me a week before she died saying that she hoped her daughter Lyra would make up her mind about the name for her daughter. The child was two weeks old and still no name. How was that to be countenanced?
Lyra was Bellefrey’s third child, though second to survive. Perhaps she thought you should have all these things planned. Bellefrey was a great believer in organization. She planned out all the names for her children. Lists tracked down the side of commonplace books next to recipes and almanac predictions. Boy names, girl names, names that could go for either.
As soon as she missed her third course she was to the local midwife to read leaves over her stomach so she could prepare properly. Will it be a boy? Will it be a girl? Will it die and so there is no need to prepare a name?
Johan is her son, first born. He followed his father into the merchant trade and sells all manner of fabrics and spices. He visits me, aunty I’ve black tea pearls for you laced with lavender, hounded by dried ginger, protected by saffron. We brew fragrant drinks and he shows me his art. All those drawings of places I will never see but he has and oh isn’t that wonderful.
Havel was her second child, a boy, but he died at three weeks. One of those deaths where the babe goes to sleep and doesn’t wake up. Gay in the morning, dead by dinner except there is no fever to blame this on.
Lyra is three. First daughter and pulled out a screaming child with spindly legs and a too-large head. Her hair is the thick curls that is our mother’s inheritance, her grandmother’s inheritance. Married to a lawyer who aims to one day be well connected through the inns of court, she means to make herself into something. Daughter three was named Belle. She wagged a finger at me, never a word about beasts and fairy tales.
I don’t tell her that a woman I knew said that fairytales are our collective neurosis born out in repeating tropes. Patterned to go down forever and on.
The fourth had no name because the leaves read by her midwife told her not to bother. It was born early and without heartbeat.
Guilluam is fifth and last. She swore he was conceived ready to escape her belly. He patted the inside of her stomach as soon as he could move. Once born he clung to her then didn’t anymore, running away at sixteen. A year before she died.
What would her most difficult child make of all of this? I remember his sneering face. Where Johan was gentle kindness, Guilluam was sharp. He cut with a look. He cut with a laugh. He could be a harsh, cruel boy. Probably is a harsh, cruel man.
Or maybe he’s softened. Maybe as he ages he’s gentling. Some people do that. But in all honesty, I don’t think Guilluam the sort.
What am I trying to do? I’m trying to introduce a woman. A girl. A child. A person whom I have loved all my life and will continue to love all my life. Though I am so angry with her for leaving us it wasn’t her fault.
See, I’m guilty as all of us are guilty.
Bellefrey got caught up in something bigger than her death. She was hidden in the shadows of a great anger and a great brutality.
Bellefrey died and was found months and months later wearing a green dress and purple shoes with pearls on them.
No one knows what she was caught up in and no one knows about this great brutality, this great anger that once stalked through our less than fine and noble city.
I do not have my sister’s blood on my hands. But I do have her gravedirt.
---
The Wellington one! I completely forgot about this one. It's part of the ridiculous Woodford Napoleon AU where Napoleon ends up in England and there are murder fairies. In this story, things are starting to come through a mysterious mirror that someone shipped to Napoleon for unknown reasons. Arthur shows up to investigate.
Another long excerpt:
In the drawing room rests the mirror. It was received a little over a month ago wrapped in brown paper with no information on sender or purpose. It is a heavy, old thing. Age-spotted, warped, the frame is heavy, gilded wood. Napoleon says that for him it’s Tuileries. Has he told Arthur about Tuileries? The sacking of it?
‘Only that you said vive la revolution and someone asked if you were from the south and you said yes and that is what saved you.’
‘Southerners have to stick together,’ Napoleon’s sphinxian smile. Then he goes into himself, how he does when he’s formatting a memory — twisting it into some form of narrative that will make sense to those who were not there. Bertrand told Arthur once, It’s the revolution, we can’t really explain it. How we went about our day but also checked this list that was kept of everyone taken up as enemies. You went every morning to make sure your friends were still alive. Then you had breakfast.
Napoleon shrugs at Arthur’s patient waiting. ‘It was messy. There was a man’s head on a pike. He had a beard, brown hair that curled, blue eyes. And the floor was scattered with torn drapes, rags that were once kingly gowns, shattered statues, remains of old portraits. A lot of broken glass. Windows and mirrors.’
And as for this mirror? With its growth that says: come come come. Nothing happened the first little while. Oh yes, various and sundry people of the neighbourhood came to view the mirror — to see if they recognised it.
‘And did they?’ Arthur asks.
Yes and no for all who saw it. Mrs. Topsom said it reminded her of a beautiful manor in the Scottish highlands she once visited as a child. She did not seem comfortable with this recollection. Mrs. Phillips said it brought to mind a book she once read which told the story of a young woman trapped in a tower whose uncle froze time. Lady Preston said it was something from the Assembly Rooms in Bath.
‘And your household?’
Napoleon shrugs. What is there to say on that? Nothing. It was the revolution and it was abdication and it was family homes that are no longer homes of families.
Arthur shifts his gaze from the pensive face of Napoleon back to the mirror and he looks at it for a long moment. Studies the carvings of the frame — the flowers, vines, mischievous eyes peeking out from behind leaves. ‘I suppose it’s something from Spain, if I think on it long enough. A wealthy home we stayed in, during the campaign.’
‘A bit of something for everyone.’
‘Yes,’ Arthur agrees. Then he adds, ‘and no.’
The main issue with the mirror is this: that there is a staircase growing out of it.
When Arthur approaches he can hear whispers crawling through his mind. Slithering down the back of his head.
‘How long have the steps been here?’
‘Week and a half. It formed slowly, so we were able to document it in a thorough manner. Bertrand will give you his notes.’
Arthur hums as he inspects the object, pondering cause and effect. And, more importantly, who sent it to the exiles and to what purpose. There is nothing behind the mirror, only the wall it is propped up against. The stairs themselves are made of oak, and descend as three steps out into their world. Within the mirror they meld into an old stone walkway that climbs into a forest and is lost amongst trees and brush and forest fog.
There are leaves on the floor. And dirt. Detritus of autumnal life. They crunch beneath Arthur’s boots. Everything smells of decay.
‘Has anyone touched the mirror?’ Arthur asks. ‘Seen if it’s solid?’
‘We had Sir Hudson Lowe test it.’ Napoleon replies with an air of innocence. Arthur casts him a look. ‘What? Would you rather him disappear forever into the mirror or my good self? And no need to answer. You can save your blushes, we’re alone.’
‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘It’s one of my finer points.’
‘And? Was it solid?’ Arthur asks.
‘Yes and no.’ Napoleon approaches and touches the glass. His palm rests against it for a beat, then it begins to go through to the other side. Napoleon lets his hand sink through up to his wrist before withdrawing. ‘No one has walked through yet.’
With this touch the whispering decreases. Though, there remains the feeling of being watched. It is not that they are hunted, Arthur thinks, but rather they are being inspected. Something is curious about them.
Reaching forward, he places his palm where Napoleon’s had been. The glass is cool to the touch and when his hand begins to sink through his skin buzzes with frisson of magic, that unfurling warmth crawls up his arm as his hand enters the other side where the air is cool yet humid. That sticky feeling of late winter.
He pulls his hand away.
‘What are your orders?’ Napoleon asks.
‘To investigate.’
The whispers return. Arthur rubs the back of his head. Such an unpleasant feeling, something else in your mind speaking a language you cannot understand in a collection of voices none of which are your own.
‘Maybe we should put a sheet over it,’ Arthur suggests after a moment. ‘Just in case.’
Going over to the window seat Napoleon opens a cupboard beneath to pull out a heavy blanket. He holds it up showing the shredded fabric.
‘We tried,’ Napoleon says. ‘Mrs. Phillips recommended salt so we put a circle around it but found strange footprints in it the next morning. We tried the blanket, but it was clawed through. We collected iron implements and made a circle around it with those and that seemed to work better than the other options. I still think they got out, though.’
‘And you’re just keeping it here in your house?’
‘Oh yes, it’s fine.’
Arthur rolls his eyes. Trust Bonaparte to think it’s fine keeping a mirror-doorway to the land of fairy in his house with potential creatures coming and going out of it at all hours.
‘We leave food out for them.’
‘They’re not pets!’
‘No,’ Napoleon pats Arthur’s cheek with a warm smile. ‘But that’s what you’re supposed to do to keep fairies happy. Come now, you should know this. Milk, bread, sometimes a brandy.’
‘I give up!’
‘Young Napoleon Bertrand has suggested names for them —‘
‘Good lord.’
‘Ferdinand, Finnegan, and Felipe.’
‘Christ’s blood.’
‘Excellent,’ Napoleon enthuses. ‘You’re cursing like a Catholic. I knew I’d be a good influence on you. Come, we shall have a late supper.’
---
Thank you so much for the ask! <3 <3
[das meme]
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3 | 4 | 5
Warnings: Characters are aged up but still drinking underage (legal drinking age is 18 in France). Wild parties, hypnosis and NSFW themes will ensue.
Marinette can still taste Kagami’s gloss on her lips when she literally runs into the boy she’d been watching all evening, crashing straight against his chest with an audible thud. He catches her in his arms and it’s like heaven and hell all over again, his long fingers and wide palms digging into her hips in recognition.
“Marinette,” he whispers breathlessly, like a prayer, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Glancing upwards, Marinette gazes into the eyes of her former boyfriend and freezes, “Luka.”
He looks as if he has too much to say and begins to stammar, ten different sentences coming out all at once. It’s all Marinette can do to keep it together as she hears her own feelings rushing up past her ears and flooding her synapses until she’s nearly overwhelmed by the flurry of it all. She grapples to get a hold of herself, if only to let her newly exposed confidence take hold once more, and stands her ground.
Still thoroughly afflicted, he eventually comes to his senses, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“I…” Luka’s eyes widen, “I wish we never broke up.” As clearly as Mesmer’s spell had brought about Marinette’s true confidence, Luka’s long held contrition is revealing itself the only way it knows how, “I hate using words. I’m terrible at them. I can’t...I can’t always make them work.”
Marinette’s heart begins to break all over again, “It’s okay.”
“No it isn’t!” Luka cries out, “I thought I was over you! I thought we were friends again, and we are friends, and when you showed up tonight with that cake in that dress, I just...I really thought I could put my feelings aside. And then Mesmer came and messed everything up!”
“Luka…” she cups his cheek in her palm, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he says, seeming to crumble with every word, “None of this is your fault. I should have never followed you home that night…”
She grimaces, “You were just looking out for me.”
“I should have trusted that you would be alright,” he curses through gritted teeth, “And instead, I ruined our relationship forever.”
And it did ruin it, in a way. Marinette knew how much danger Luka would be in now that he was aware of her identity, and although he swore to keep it a secret forever, she knew that being close with him would only put him in harm’s way, “We’ll always be friends, Luka. You know that.”
“But I don’t want to be just friends!”
Marinette startles, transfixed by the way Mesmer’s spell has affected him; she’s never known him to be this emotional before, his usual even keel clearly a guise for the passionate, raw emotions he’s been hiding from the world, “Luka…”
“I know, I know,” he tugs on his bangs and Marinette has never seen his veneer crack quite like this, “I’m wrong and you’re right and you have every right to just throw me overboard right now but...just please, give me one more night together.”
“One more night?” Marinette struggles to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Please,” he begs her, “I want to spend the rest of tonight with you. I want to show you how much you mean to me because I’ve always wanted to show you how important you are but...I didn’t want to push you awa—”
Marinette presses a finger to his lips and is briefly reminded of his akuma form so many years before, “Luka. Take a deep breath.”
He listens, enraptured by her sway over him. He would follow her to the depths of the earth if she asked him to and she knows this, which is why the teal band of Miraculous energy she’d given him over one year ago still remains wound around his wrist, “Please, Marinette. I love you.”
“I know you do,” Marinette drags him down and presses her forehead against his, locking eyes. She drinks in the smell of whiskey and cologne on his skin and wishes she could taste it on her tongue. It’s forbidden now, of course; everything about their relationship has to stay locked into the past...
...or does it?
“Mesmer…” she trails off, an idea suddenly illuminating like a lightning bulb above her head, “She gave us the power to reveal what we’ve been hiding inside of us.”
Luka nods, entranced as she pulls the strings of her thoughts together, “You’re Ladybug on the inside. It’s why everyone is hypnotized by you tonight. They’re seeing the real Marinette shine through.”
“And you’ve been hiding your true feelings inside for too long,” she presses her palm to his chest, touching his heart, “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Everything,” Marinette guides him over to a bulkhead and sits him down, anchoring him to the boat by draping her legs over his lap, “Tell me everything, you’ll feel better after.”
“I won’t even remember telling you,” he huffs, “Once you cure everyone, our memories of tonight will vanish.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Marinette shrugs, “But it will make you feel better nonetheless.”
Luka hesitates, “Why aren’t you out there catching the akuma anyway?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she wags her finger at him, “But now that you brought it up, I know you won’t drop it.”
“Well?”
“Because I’m having fun,” she shrugs, “The one night I decide to let loose and party is the night Le Papillon decides to unleash a new akuma and…well, she’s not even a bad akuma. She’s not ripping things up or killing people. If anything, she’s giving us all a chance to break out of our shells.”
“I really love you,” Luka blurts, and Marinette knows without a shadow of a doubt that Mesmer’s spell has given him the gift of blunt honesty, “I mean...I mean, you know, you’re just...really smart.”
“Thank you,” she laughs, ignoring the pang in her chest as he begins to drum along to the rhythm of Fedde Le Grand’s latest bop against her thighs, “But now it’s time for you to share.”
Luka sighs and Marinette has never forgotten how much tension he holds in his shoulders when he tries to hold himself back. It’s obvious to her now, her rose coloured glasses entirely absent as Ladybug’s pragmatic view of the world takes over her senses, “When we broke up, I...I wrote so many songs about you. Love songs, break up songs, songs about what our love could be, or could have been. Kiss Me Twice, the record that got me all the attention in the first place, is about you.”
She’d had her suspicions, but the old Marinette never wanted to consider the possibility that the lines ‘bruising kisses, she’s all business, until she’s bare to me’ was about her.
“I signed a record label because of you. I’m going on tour with Jagged Stone because of you. Everything good that’s ever happened to me is because of you, except I can’t have you. And everytime I look at my guitar or I walk into the recording studio, I think about you and it hurts, Marinette. It hurts like hell.”
“If I had just trusted you instead of being so damn...I don't know, protective I guess,” Luka sighs, “I was mad you weren't getting an Uber and I followed you until you got to the Métro and…" he trails off, "I ruined everything."
"I never should have agreed to date you in the first place," Marinette responds and immediately regrets it, "Not that I didn't want to. I still want to, but I put you and Juleka and your mom in danger and...I shouldn't have even considered it, especially with the way that Le Papillon seems to hurt everyone I love."
Luka's eyes grow sadder, "Did you mean it?"
"What?"
"That you still want to be with me?"
Marinette stills, "In another life, I'd still be spending my free nights with you learning how to play the guitar and playing Mecha Strike 3. If Le Papillon wasn't around…"
"We could be together."
"We could be together," she confirms, lacing her fingers with his, "But Le Papillon is still out there."
"He is."
"And I can't have him use our relationship against us."
"We can't."
"But…"
Luka's eyebrows disappear beneath his bangs, "But…?"
"We could be reckless, just for one night."
She delights as he short circuits, her smug expression never waning even as he threatens to topple ass over tit off the ship and into the Seine.
“Come closer,” she says, tugging him by the collar of his Jagged Stone t-shirt. He slumps forward and lands on her chest, exactly where she wants him, “Listen to my heart song, Luka. What does it say?”
Luka presses his ear to her beating heart and promptly lets his jaw fall to the floor.
~
Down in his bedroom, Luka’s shaking fingers slide across the fretboard as he sings her a song he’d buried between the pages of a guitar magazine so no one would ever find it.
“Bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks, she stars in my fantasies,
In nothing but a lacy bra and matching pink panties.
When she knocks me off my feet, she lingers on the wall,
‘Till she crawls on top of me, and I can’t help but fall.
She’s my dream girl, my fantasy girl,
My lover every night.
We dance together between the sheets,
‘Till I turn on the light.”
“I’ll never actually record it,” he blushes, ducking his head, “And I never ever ever thought I would actually share this with anyone, let alone you, but—”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Marinette grabs his guitar by the neck and wrenches it out of his hands, “But how about I give you something to really write about.”
Luka gulps, “I don’t think I thought this through.”
“What’s the matter?” Marinette sets his guitar down in its stand and cocks her hip, perfectly aware of the affect she’s having on him in this moment; it’s the same feeling she’d always enjoyed causing back when Chat Noir was still pursuing her, even if it had been an annoyance at the time, “We’re rebelling, remember?”
His expression changes, his nervous blush growing deeper as his gaze narrows with intensity. It’s the perfect look on him, lips slightly parted, his blue hair mussed just the way she’d always liked. She wants to bury her fingers in his hair just because she can; it’s her job to make everyone feel loved tonight, after all.
Except this time, she’s about to get some love in return.
Arching her back just a little, Marinette stalks toward him in time with the beat of the music still blaring from the DJ booth upstairs. His knees buckle beneath him and falls onto his mattress, his wide eyes trained on her.
The old Marinette never would have dreamed of doing something like this but the new Marinette, the confident and fearless woman who dons skintight red and spots every other day while kicking ass and taking names, is kind of excited to watch him squirm. Her pulse begins to race as she watches her affect on him play clear as day over his features, awe and wonder and giddy lust urging on her addiction. She likes the way his hunger makes her feel as if she’s holding all of the cards in her hand, the ultimate power move in her favour.
She stops right at the edge of his bed, stepping in between his spread knees. She runs her hands up and down her torso until they falter at her hips, the implications of her motions suddenly coming into focus for both of them. If she grabs the hem and pulls her dress up and over her head, she’ll be left in nothing but a bra and matching panties.
Luka’s entire body seems to twitch as she fights to come to a decision.
“You only live once, right?”
It sounds silly once she says it, but then again, that’s kind of the whole point. And that point goes flying over Luka’s head as quickly as Marinette shimmies her handmade gown up her body centimetre by centimetre, flinging the handmade dress at him with a sultry smirk.
Catching it in his quivering fingers, Luka brings it to his nose and inhales, “You were burning my candle when you made this, weren’t you?”
“I was,” Marinette says, quelling her nerves with the sound of his voice hitting the lowest octaves she’s ever heard, “It helps me focus.”
“Does it remind you of me?”
She rolls her hips towards him, “Always.”
“Good,” he hums, his wide eyes sweeping her nearly bare form. His gaze finds her face again eventually and his expression is so reverent that Marinette feels her heart start racing, reminded of a time when every errant touch and glance used to set her skin on fire. The old Marinette swore to get over her relationship with Luka for his safety but the new Marinette is willing to take a chance; she's Lady Luck after all, and tonight she holds all the cards.
She leans forward, giving him quite the eyeful of her décolletage, "Touch me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, “You’re amazing.”
“You’re pretty amazing yourself,” she rolls her hips in his direction and the look he gives her is so gentle, so reverent, that it motivates her even further to break free from her invisible restraints and soar.
“Am I?” he whispers, sweeping his calloused fingers up her sides. He presses one palm to the small of her back and urges her forwards, drunk on the vision before him. He’s seen her in a bikini before but he’s never gotten to touch her like this, their intentions clear between them. She wants to be touched and who is he to deny her?
“Take off your shirt for me,” she says and he flings it off his body in an instant, tossing it across the room. She hums in appreciation and wraps her arms around his neck, settling herself in his lap, “Luka.”
“Y-yes?” Luka shudders, his voice rumbling low in his chest. She begins to move her pelvis in small circles and he gasps, his hands coming down hard on her hips and backside. Luka tries to fill his memories of this moment and hopes that if he focuses hard enough, he’ll never forget.
Marinette groans, relishing in the pressure of his erection against her core. She can’t believe she’s doing this, but then again, this is a Marinette without reservations. A confident Marinette. A sexual Marinette. A Marinette who is fully and completely in control of her wants and desires, no matter how forward. He’s so hard and she’s never seen him look this wrecked before; she never wants to stop.
“I want you,” she murmurs, leaning forwards. She presses her lips to his and the electricity between them spreads like wildfire, sizzling up her spine and spreading through her veins. She’s hungry and he’s her feast as he parts his lips and allows her to ravish him, kissing him absolutely senseless. He makes sounds she’s never heard before and she craves them, cupping his cheeks in both hands as an anchor against the onslaught of lust that’s sweeping her away.
His fingers tighten against her hipbones and Marinette loves the way it stings, the strength in his hands a direct contrast to the way he’d been touching her before. She senses the moment he lets go when he wraps his arms around her fully to erase the space between them, pulling her flush against his chest. Marinette moans into his mouth and he responds in kind while she continues to grind against him, the sensation like nothing she’s ever felt before.
“You feel amazing,” she gasps against his lips, pulling back for a moment as he reaches around to unclasp her bra. It takes a few moments for her to shrug the straps from her shoulders and Luka’s eyes sing with molten heat as he drinks her bare chest in for the first time. The old Marinette would have blushed under such scrutiny but the new Marinette simply waits for him to peel his jaw off the floor.
“Marinette…” he chokes on his words, his hands unable to stay idle. He cradles each of her breasts in his palms and brushes his thumbs across her nipples, powerless to tear his eyes away as she inhales against the feeling, so new and addictive. He does it again and again until Marinette is mewling, the pace of her hips increasing, and when he finally looks up at her face again, it’s with the implicit understanding that if they go any further, there will be no holding back.
“I want it,” she throws her head back as he grasps her breasts and squeezes, “It feels good.”
Luka doesn’t have the ability to answer, his tongue thoroughly tied as he pulls one hand back to unfasten the button of his jeans. She watches him as he tugs the zipper down his length, exposing a sliver of his bright purple boxers beneath.
“Are you sure?” his voice hitches as she shimmies backwards, giving him a chance to push his jeans down his thighs. She nods as he steps out of them, gnawing on her lower lip.
“I’ve thought about this moment,” she admits, unable to keep herself from telling the truth even if she tried. The old Marinette had certainly mulled over her first time, with the boys in her fantasies alternating between Luka and the forbidden boy she was determined to let go of, “And I want it to be with you.”
“Oh god,” Luka babbles, barely able to stop himself from shaking. His hands twitch at his sides before reaching out and settling on her hips once again, “Can I?”
“Yes,” she whispers, shivering as he hooks his thumbs into the straps of her panties and drags them down her bare legs. When he looks up, he falls back onto the bed and locks eyes with her, his expression wrecked and helpless all at once.
“Your turn.”
It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with her words, his gaze impossible to shake as he blindly pulls his boxers off. His erection bobs and Marinette’s eyes widen as she catches a glimpse of something she’s only seen in a textbook.
“Marinette…” He squirms under her gaze, bashful at the prospect of being completely naked in front of her. His hands start twitching again for something to do and he drives his fingers into his bedspread and clenches, the sheets bunching while he tries to fight for his composure, “I…”
She silences him with a kiss, quelling both of their nerves as she slides back into his lap. He cries out a little as his cock brushes against the skin of her belly, sending a lightning strike up his spine.
“Remember what I told you?”
Luka pulls away and melts like putty in her arms, “Please…”
“Yes,” she breathes, “And whatever you do, don’t hold back.”
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Soul to Souls - Two
Warnings: Mentions of death, wolf hunt, Sassy OC, Guilt Ridden!Dean, so many more to come
Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?
Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh (evenutally)
Word Count: 1727
Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.
A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home.
Soul to Souls Master List
All in all, it took Dean three days to track and put down the werewolf with Annaleigh’s help. Her research capabilities and knowledge of the area came in handy. He talked to the Sheriff, the Game Warden, even the folks at the local animal shelter. She knew the people here, which was helpful. He had to take her along on a couple interviews with the locals, because they wouldn’t talk to Dean, but they would talk to her.
Annaleigh brought Dean to her friends’ comic book store, Betsie’s Best Comics. The manager there, Mandi, and her employee told them about their friend and owner Betsie, who was the first body found out by the creek. Mandi wouldn’t look at Dean, but Annaleigh got her to open up. She told them everything, even how Betsie had left her the store. Mandi was crying, a lot, and Dean found himself growing uncomfortable. Man, Sammy is so much better with the whole emotions thing, Dean thought to himself. Emotions weren’t Dean’s deal and he found himself grateful, more than once, that Annaleigh was with him on this one.
After they walked out of the comic book store, he looked around the main drag, feeling that familiar grumble in his stomach. “I need food,” Dean grunted, slightly irritated.
“Here,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him into yet another store front. This one was different. This one smelled delicious. Dean’s eyes darted around the small shop. He eyed the pastries, donuts, cakes, cookies. And there, in the last case on the left, pie. They had cherry, pumpkin, apple, blueberry, all his personal favorites. But no pecan, story of his life.
“Hey there, Annaleigh! Who’s your super hot friend?” He heard one of the girls behind the counter giggle as she wiped her flour covered hands on a towel.
“Oh, is Anna here?” Dean heard another voice call out from somewhere, preceding another woman coming from the back. Two blondes stood behind the counter and just stared at him, eyeing him like he was one of the treats in their cases. They must have been sisters, huge matching smiles on their faces, as Annaleigh shut the door behind them.
“Hi, girls! It has been too long since I have been in here! I forgot how good it smells, and now I want something to eat!” Annaleigh practically shouted. “Oh, and this super hot guy is my friend, Dean Winchester. Dean, please meet Trista and Cora Dozier, owners of this fine establishment, Two Sisters Bakery. Best pastries in town and best pie this side of the Mississippi.”
“You had me at pie. Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Dean shook each of their hands gently as his eyes wandered back to the display case filled with pie, unconsciously licking his lips.
“What’s your poison, Dean?” Trista asked with a wink and a smile.
He smiled wide and sheepishly replied, “Cherry, please. And, apple. Oh, and a slice of blueberry and banana cream to go please. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Too much trouble? Not at all, pie is what we do!” Cora piped up from behind the counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to try my famous french silk or maybe the pecan? I just took it out of the oven and it should be ready for serving right about now,” she said, drawing it out as she glanced down at her watch.
“Hell yes!” he exclaimed, maybe a little too excited. If you asked Dean, he hadn’t had a good pie in months. He ate a decent slice weekly at least, but not truly good pie, with the perfectly flaky homemade crust. He took the plate she offered with three different flavors. Annaleigh had a slice of the french silk and they sat down at one of the small tables with their delicious treats and coffee.
Annaleigh looked at Dean again with those damn eyes. Her lashes were unbelievably long and curling up as they searched his own emerald ones. With the last fork full of apple pie halfway to his mouth, he stopped, sighed and put the fork down. “What?” he asked her.
She just giggled, like the two sisters staring at them from behind the counter, trying to look busy but failing. “I have heard so much about you from Bobby over the last few years. I feel like I know you. For example, I know you are saving the pecan for last because it is your favorite. I know that you love that damn car more than life itself. I know that you love classic rock and chick flicks...and I know that you blame yourself for Sam.”
She laid her hand over his on the table, and her eyes welled up with tears but she blinked them back and continued. “Dean,” Annaleigh hesitates, choosing her next words meticulously. She feared he would run, and she worried that she would lose him, before she had the chance to really know him.
“I-it’s not your fault. Sam made this choice. Y-you could not have stopped him.” She paused to take a breath, a moment to collect her thoughts.
“I-I don’t wanna talk about it,” Dean whispered, blinking back the burning behind his eyelids, praying the tears would stay at bay. He pulled back in an attempt to untangle his hands from hers.
“Y-you can’t bring him back. I am sorry for what happened, but you and your brother? You saved the w-world,” she wept in hushed tones, her hands clinging tightly to his, but she pushed through the emotions threatening to drown them both. “Your brother m-made the ultimate sacrifice and saved billions of innocent souls. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I, for one, am grateful. I know how hard this life can be. I lost a brother, too. And more friends than I care to count.”
She removed her hand from his and Dean immediately missed it, the softness, the warmth, the human connection, that he had been craving. Shaking his head, Dean wiped his face, knowing his emotions had betrayed him and cleared his throat before he spoke, attempting to sound stronger than he felt. His voice was barely audible as he growled. “What am I supposed to do now? You seem to know everything about me, so tell me, Red, what am I supposed to do now?”
He looked down, trying to avoid her gaze, but not entirely able to. Her eyes were blue, ocean blue, bright and sparkling, and he couldn’t keep away, like a moth to the flame. Instead of answering his questions, she stood, boxing up the remaining slices. “Come on, let’s go back to my place, away from the prying eyes of the Giggle Twins. I will explain it all to you, in time.”
Twenty minutes later, they rolled down her driveway, and Dean put Baby into park, got out and opened the back door to grab the pie. As he turned to walk toward her house, Annaleigh flung herself against him, one hand on the back of his neck, standing on her tiptoes and slowly pulling him down to her. She leaned in and closed her eyes as she gently pressed up on her toes, inching closer to him than she had been so far. She opened her eyes, lashes fluttering as she gazed upon his face.
As she pulled back, he could see her face clearly, a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. She placed her hand in his, then grabbed the pie and ran off towards her massage studio at the back of her property, laughing maniacally. Dean just stood there, stunned, and shook his head, silently wondering what he had gotten himself into by agreeing to take this hunt. His body tingled from the feel of her pressed against him, as if he could still feel her softness, and smell the lingering chocolate in the air.
Dean followed after her slowly, not sure what his next move should be or even if there should be a next move. He vaguely remembered arriving three days ago, wanting to get out of this town as fast as possible after the case, but now, he wasn’t so sure.
By the time he made his way into Annaleigh’s studio, she had changed into a bright blue tank top and leggings. She was standing at the counter, pouring whiskey into two glasses, hips swaying slightly to some country music she had turned on. Dean didn’t recognize the tune, but he wasn’t totally against country music. Bobby was like a father to him, and he had played it enough that Dean had gotten used to it over the years. It wouldn’t be his first choice but then again, this wasn’t his car where he picked the music. Here, he was not the driver, so he kept his mouth shut.
Dean slid off his suit jacket and laid it on the counter behind her. He loosened his tie and walked around the small island until he was standing directly behind Annaleigh. Without thinking, he gently placed his hands on her hips and lowered himself enough so his head rested on her shoulder. With a low chuckle, Dean snaked one hand around her waist and grabbed a glass. He brought it to his lips and took a nice long drink of the warm amber liquid.
Dean glanced around the studio she had converted on her property and admired what she had done with it. It was petite, but charming, like her. There were a couple of stools around the island, a waiting area of sorts. Wandering the space, he took in the small touches that she had added, while she continued swaying and singing softly in the small kitchenette. In the back corner was a bedroom that she had converted into a massage room. Dean pushed the door open and walked inside. Candles flickered, bathing the room in a soft glow, scented lightly of flowers and fruit; subtle, but comforting.
“Take your clothes off and get on the table face down.”
Dean jumped a little as he heard her voice behind him. “I didn’t peg you as a Dom, Red. But I have to admit, I kinda like it,” he replied as he turned around and untucked his shirt, a smirk playing on his face.
Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!
Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @spnbaby-67 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67
#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester angst#dean x annaleigh#dean x ofc#dean winchester x ofc#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction
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My Raven (Vampire Diaries oneshot)
Word Count: 2k
Pairings: Elijah x OC, and then Klaus x OC
AN: I forgot this is based on two songs: One Headlight by The Wallflowers (though I really like The Ready Set’s cover) and Snuff by Slipknot. I went through some stuff in high school lol. And that’s a reminder; I wrote this like 6 years ago. I heavily edited it, but I don’t think it’s a great piece of writing by any means. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!! :)
(I also think I wrote another part to this, so if anyone wants that I can dig it up)
So long ago, I don't remember when.
That's when they say I lost my only friend.
"I can't lose you, Elijah!" I yelled after him, black hair whipping around as I frantically tried to catch his face through the trees. He couldn't leave me, not like this. He promised. "Please, don't go." I could hear the vulnerability in my voice, where it hadn't been present in years. I felt sick to my stomach; he shouldn't be able to do this to me. I can’t believe I thought I was getting my happily ever after.
They say she died easy of a broken heart disease,
As I listened, through the cemetery trees.
"I'm sorry, my love. I must," his voice whispered out of the trees and I tried to follow him, but my legs were stuck like cement to the grass. The compulsion wouldn’t even let me sink to the ground to cry. "Our love is forbidden, and you are not safe with me." That didn't stop him from asking me to marry him, though, did it? "Don't fret, I will find you again." The overwhelming freezing sadness I had felt before was leached out of me and suddenly replaced with an anger that shot through my system, burning my blood. All I had done for months was fret about him; his father was out to kill him and he was finally deciding to leave me behind! I clenched my fists at my sides and breathed in slowly.
"Don't lie, 'Lijah!" I yelled out into the void, my voice stronger and clearer than before. "This is our goodbye forever." I could feel the heavy truth of my statement ring throughout the clearing. Sudden soft footsteps sounded somewhere to my right, but I resisted the urge to look at the man who had toyed with my heart for so long. "What are you waiting for? Leave already." My voice held no emotion anymore, even as tears dripped down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," Elijah said again, sadder this time, and my heart cracked at the ridiculous amount of sincerity I thought I could hear in his voice, "I love you with all of my heart." I resisted an urge to snort, feeling a manic need to start laughing. If he loved me that much, he wouldn’t be doing this, and we both know it. "I give you my word that I will find you again," I gasped in a breath. His word meant everything to him. I immediately crushed the sprout of hope I wanted so badly to let grow in my chest. "Good-bye, my Raven." Then, he was gone, and the world around went black.
I looked up a few minutes later to see a new figure standing at the tree line. I got up mechanically and walked over to him.
"You seem different," he stated, smirking, no doubt having heard my and Elijah's conversation, "I wonder what could have happened?" This bastard, the man I had always thought of as a brother. How could I have been so stupid as to never see the monster inside. Every emotion in me seemed to bubble up all at once, it was overwhelming. I couldn’t focus, it felt like my brain and heart were being ripped out of my body. Closing my eyes, I focused on the absence I had been holding onto before. Meeting his eyes again, I could see he was taken aback at the coldness inside.
"Oh, nothing," I bluffed, turning around and walking away, "Just found a reason to turn off my humanity." I glanced back at him and smirked, the same smirk I had always seen on his face. I had learned from the best.
It always seemed such a waste,
She always had a pretty face.
I wondered why she hung around this place.
I woke up with an immense headache, again. My dream faded fast, but I knew what it meant. I glanced around and noticed my clothes strewn everywhere, but his were nowhere to be found. The shower turned on, and I silently moved into the middle of the floor. That dream could only mean one thing. 'Lijah was searching here. He couldn't find me so easily.
It was my fault he was so close. What was I thinking, crawling back to this bastard again? I sent a look of disgust at the door, even though it was fully directed at myself.
Using vampire speed, I picked up everything and got dressed. The skinny jeans came back on, along with the blue tank top and leather jacket. My sneakers were found in a vase and I had to pause for a moment to wonder when that happened. My nose crinkled as I realized the clothes in my own hotel room would have to stay there for quite a long time if I plan on getting out of this city before Elijah finds out I'm here.
If you love me,
let me go,
and run away before I know.
I could see the entrance to the hotel lobby. Freedom was in sight, mine for the taking. He wouldn't be able to question me on last night and Elijah wouldn't find me. Perfect.
"Hello there, love," his British accent almost made my knees buckle. I tell myself it's because it sounds so much like his brother's.
"What do you want, Klaus?" I asked snottily, trying to be nonchalant and pretend that nothing happened between us only a hand-full of hours ago.
“Why so cold, darling? Once upon a time we were almost siblings.” He gave that smile, the one made of slicing malice that gave a glimpse of the monster hiding inside. Although it seemed strange that he would bring up my previous engagement instead of the previous night, something about Klaus’s demeanor let me know that he’s the reason Elijah found me so quickly.
My heart is just too dark to care.
I can't destroy what isn't there.
“Yes, but unlike Kol or Finn, I don’t like you.” I answered, putting a bland smile on my face as I tried to hide how anxious I was to sprint out the door and never look back.
"Harsh, love." How does he know I love when he calls me that? I flinch inward at my own thoughts; now is not the time to get distracted. There isn’t anything to love about Klaus. He's a monster, murderer, and there's not a scrap of humanity in him! "I just came to say good-bye, Raven, since you seemed to have forgotten." I held my breath when he paused, watching that stupid smirk creep across his face. "But, about last night -"
"No!" My face heated at the thought of where that sentence was going, and I frantically glanced around, glad I hadn’t attracted too many stares. "It was a moment of weakness and it shouldn't have happened." Images from last night zoomed through my brain and I was incredibly glad that vampires couldn’t blush.
"Now, see, I would believe you," Klaus took a few steps closer until I had to look up at him, "if this was the first time." He paused to see if I would interrupt, his dark eyes searching mine, but I wasn't entirely sure what to say. "May I remind you of just a few months ago when we didn't leave my room for three days except to hunt? Or how about New Years?" he was talking low so no one around would hear, but my advanced ears heard everything perfectly. He brought up some fair points, but I could never let him know what those nights meant to me. I laced my fingers behind my back so he wouldn’t see them shaking as I focused on breathing evenly. "And let me just say, the best was probably the night Elijah left you." Klaus's voice turned even colder than mine had been. The blood drained from my face and my mouth went dry. He had no right to bring that up. The worst night of my life played in my mind over and over again, bringing back the pain and the heartbreak that made me turn my emotions off in the first place.
I went to finally say something--what, exactly, I wasn’t sure--but this time he shushed me. "Just, give in and be happy. That's all I want from you, Raven. Be happy." He coaxed. There was an odd sort of tone in his voice; I would call it sadness, except Klaus was incapable of such a human emotion. "Don't keep running away every time we meet up." My breath went shaky as I thought about it. Being with him was as natural as breathing, even as he set my blood on fire and everything in me screamed to hold on tight and never let him go.
Klaus, the beautiful and blonde vampire, who could massacre a village and then turn and look into my soul with such softness it hurt. Why was it so hard to say no all of a sudden? It wasn't compulsion, but that was the only explanation for why I hadn't run away already. He was the reason my life ended, the reason I don’t have anyone to care for. He doesn’t deserve any compassion, not after everything he’s done. I shouldn’t want to lean in and press our lips together, order him to take me back to his room. I should care that Elijah is here, searching for me, and for the life we never got to have together. My head is spinning, and that wave of emotion I pushed away so long ago threatens to pull me under again.
If you still care,
don't ever let me know.
"I can't." The words sounded forced and weak, even to me. I clear my throat and look into his crystal blue eyes. "I can't." This time it comes out more firmly, and I can see a dash of hurt behind his usual facade. "Elijah was my true love.” The lies tumble from my lips, but I find strength in their falsehood. “Anything with you was done because of weakness and because I was emotionally unstable. Goodbye, Klaus." I pick up my bag and start walking away with my head held high. After all, I learned from the best.
We'll run until she's out of breath.
She ran until there's nothing left.
She hit the end,
it's just her window ledge.
Klaus sped in front of me and stared into my unemotional brown eyes. I could see the panic on his face for that split second, as if he really didn't want me to go. There was a world of words he was conveying, all too much for me to comprehend. Then, his features flattened, he stepped aside, and I walked out, trying not to show how surprised I was that Klaus let me see past his wall of emotional protection, even if it was only for a moment.
The second I was outside, tears started streaming silently down my face. I loved Klaus, almost always had. Ever since the night 'Lijah left, when he tried to help me pick up the pieces. I’ve pretended to forget how his actions affected me that night, but it was the first time I had felt alive since becoming a vampire. I thought my love for him was like a brother until that night, when I found out that my love for Klaus was so intense it scared me.
We wouldn't ever work, though. I sniffled and wiped my eyes as I stood against the wall outside the hotel. It would never work out. He was only after me as an ally. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. He was all for the kill and the power. How do I know he won't just kill me when I'm no longer useful? I can't trust him. My excuses feel weak, but they’re all I have.
Not bothering to glance around, I take off, already picking my next destination and leaving all of my problems behind.
If you still care, don't ever let me know...
#vampire diaries#fanfiction#fanfic#klaus mikaelson#elijah mikaelson#songfic#oneshot#klaus x reader#elijah x reader#rambling rabbit writes
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Ice Cold ~Part 9
A/N: Hi yall soooooI really messed up the timeline and hand to go through back to this point to fix it. I have it all right now I think. If I’ve fucked up somewhere lemme know and I’ll fix it! But now prepared to be bombarded because I have many parts ready to go right now lol Enjoy!
It was around 5pm when I got out of the uber at the end of the really long driveway to Morgan's. I had called Amy earlier and told her most of what happened last night. I left out the part about Auston sucking blood and I didn't tell her it was him but everything else I did. She agreed to let me stay home and do it herself as long as I wrote the transcripts for Peter's interview from yesterday. I told her I would and was on my way.
About halfway up the big hill there was a woman waiting there. She was striking. She had beautiful pale skin, blue eyes and dark curly hair. I recognized her immediately from the pictures in Morgan's office as well as her being a figure skater I admired as a kid.
"You must be (y/n)."
"Um yes."
"Morgan told me to expect you. I'm Tessa."
"I know I used to watch you skate when I was younger. It's really nice to meet you."
"That's sweet. Would you like to come inside?"
"Yes please." We started the rest of the way to the house. "So if Morgan told you did he tell everyone else?"
"No of course not. Morgan doesn't like metaling with the future. No one will know until you don't show up at the arena and by then it will be too late for them to stop you. They're going to Ottawa right from the arena tonight except poor, sick Auston so they really couldn't stop you if they wanted to."
"Okay good. None of them want me here. Mitch yelled at me this morning after reading my mind so it pissed off Kappy and Will too. I just need to fix this, ya know?"
"What if you can't?" She wasn't asking to be mean. I could tell she was genuinely curious.
"Tessa I have to. These boys all love each other. They're family. I can't keep ripping them apart. I'm going to talk to Auston while I'm safe and he can't get me."
"He is very weak. Morgan injected him with vervain before he left so that you'd be as safe as possible." I nodded as she told me.
"As long as I don't die I'm good."
"You absolutely will not die. I can promise you that." She said opening the front door for me. She lead the way down into the basement as she sing-songed, "Visitor Auston."
"I don't want her here."
"That's nice. Anyway (y/n), I'll be upstairs. I'm making some food so just come get some when you're ready."
"Thanks." I smiled at her as she started walking away.
The basement was dirt floored but I didn't particularly care. I put my backpack down and sat beside it with my back against the wall facing Auston.
"Uh oh, the princess is going to get her clothes dirty."
"I'm not a dainty little princess Auston."
"Yeah sure whatever."
"Listen Auston I'll eat a cricket right fucking now. I was in scouting for years, you think I give a rats ass about having dirt on my jeans?"
"Guess not." We were quiet for a little while before he spoke up again. "Why are you here?"
"I want us to get along. Or at least tolerate each other."
"Did the boys put you up to this?" I snorted at that.
"As if. They all yelled at me for even thinking about coming to talk to you."
"Then why are you here?"
"They're not the boss of me and they're travelling tonight so they can't stop me."
"That's brave, I'll give you that. So what were you so desperate to talk to me about?"
"Well first of all you have to teach me how to hide my thoughts from Mitch but more importantly what the actual fuck was that last night?"
"I don't want to talk about that."
"Fine then. Let me know when you do."
I pulled my phone out of my bag and saw a message from William.
W: You really are a brat you know.
Me: yes.
W: are you at least being careful?
Me: baby relax. I'm completely okay. Tessa is here, Auston is locked up. I have to do this. Please trust me.
There was a lot of typing and erasing but finally he sent another message.
W: I do trust you. I just want you safe. I understand what you're trying to accomplish, I just don't know if it's going to work. I have to go now but I will be checking in on you often. I love you.
Me: love you too. Have a good game!
I closed out of text messages and opened the audio file Amy sent. I started transcribing and Auston just sat there looking grumpy. Once I was done I looked back up at him.
"You look fucking miserable."
"I am fucking miserable no thanks to you."
"It's not my fault you're in there. You broke rules I've been told."
"Damn they're really fucking telling you everything."
"I'm going to be one of you some day. Morgan thinks it's important that I know."
"God an eternity with you?" He asked frustrated.
"Look Auston you don't know a fucking thing about me. I don't know how you'd know exactly how bad an eternity with me around would be. You're the only one with a fucking problem."
"That's what's pissing me off! No one else has any fucking problems about sharing all our secrets with someone who works for the media!"
"Auston I have known for three days now. I've been around journalists two out of three of them. Don't you think if I wanted everyone in the world to know about it I'd have told by now? I'll never tell a secret that isn't mine to share. Unless I get specific permission from the person whose secret it is, I'm not saying a word."
"Mhm sure."
"What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Morgan said you and Kappy had some bad experiences but he wouldn't tell me because they're your stories."
"That's the worst thing that ever happened to me. Why would I tell you?"
"We could trade. I'll tell you the worst thing that ever happened to me?" He was quiet for a really long time and I thought that was going to be the end of the conversation. I was playing on my phone when he spoke up again.
"Fine. Let's trade the worst stories of our lives. You're going first though."
"Why me?"
"So that I know you're not tricking me."
"And what if you're tricking me?"
"I won't."
"I don't believe you but what I do know is that I've got a few days and the 10 hour version of the gummy bear song ready to go. I'll get you talking."
"Whatever, just start."
"Alright fine. 2 years ago I was in a really bad relationship-"
"Fucking that's it? Your worst moment is a relationship?" He asked in disgust.
"No. Let me tell my fucking story." I snapped. He stayed quiet so I continued. "He was a drunk, drug addict. Very abusive. Hit me all the time. One time he threw me down a flight of stairs because I refused to snort coke a random person offered. He broke my wrist and ribs that night."
"That sounds bad."
"It was. But that's the tame part of the story."
"Cocaine and broken bones is the tame part?"
"Absolutely."
"What happened next?" He asked trying to be nonchalant about it. It didn't reach his eyes though, they showed a bit of concern.
"I broke up with him. I couldn't handle it anymore. I wasn't allowed to watch hockey anymore and even worse, baseball! Dude took away my favourite thing because I was 'looking at other men'. It was lame. I couldn't talk to my dad for the same reason."
"But he's your father?"
"Yes but he was a man. Anyone with a dick this dude saw as a threat. Even strangers on TV and family."
"That's messed up."
"You think that's messed up? Just wait." I resituated myself and cleared my throat. "So I dump him. He leaves to my complete surprise. I stopped leaving my house because he was always outside. About a week later I wake up to my door being busted open. In he comes to my bedroom. Without going into too much detail, he raped me just to prove he could. I was his and always would be. I kept screaming so he started strangling me. I completely blacked out. When I came to, he was gone."
"(Y/n) I'm sorry that's really awful." He said softly.
"To be honest with you that's the only reason the boys knew about what happened last night. I was in shock. You brought me right back to the absolute helpless, gut wrenching feeling that I was going to be strangled to death and I would never be able to stop it from happening. But worse this time because literally nothing I could do to you would've stopped you." I wiped a tear from my cheek and laughed. "Sorry I'm being a weak little bitch right now."
"You're not. You're not weak. I'm so sorry I made you feel like that. It wasn't my intention."
"It's whatever Auston. Tell me your story now."
"Mine seems kind of mild now.."
"I don't care, tell me."
"Fine." He grumbled looking at the floor. "When I was first turned it was by this really beautiful girl. Prettiest I'd ever seen. I was 17 and fell in love with her fast. It was a different time back then and we got married."
"What was her name?" He gave me a hard stare but told me anyway.
"Lillian. I called her Lily. She had the prettiest long black curls and the greenest eyes you've ever seen."
"She sounds lovely."
"She was. She didn't feel the same for me though. I was just something for fun, for her to waste a few years on. She did care about me on some level but it wasn't to the extent of my feelings for her. After a while she told me what she was. She'd feed off me all the time. Just a little here and there usually. She had given me some of her blood too every so often."
"Why would she do that?"
"Our blood can fix injuries in humans almost instantly. Don't get any ideas."
"I promise you on William's life I wasn't."
"Anyways one night she was drinking and went too far. I died. But because her blood was in my system from an injury earlier that day I came back as what you see now."
"So that's how it works? Dying with blood in the system?"
"Or by the venom. Apparently the venom hurts but the blood drinking is gross. The best way depends on the person and circumstances."
"Okay. What happened next?"
"Well she panicked. She had never wanted me to become like her. I was naive and thought it was perfect because we could be together forever. She didn't see it that way. We spent a few years together but she was drawing too much attention to herself. She was getting sloppy leaving bodies around, sleeping with other men. My parents questioned me about it and I told them everything like the dumb 20 year old kid I was. They told me they'd handle everything. Boy did they ever." He scoffed.
"What did they do?"
"They told everyone in town about us. About the monsters living among them. Everyone in town was furious at her. Coming into town and turning one of the beloved children into a monster. They burned the only woman I ever loved in front of me."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry Auston."
"It's alright. I'm over her death. I have been for a while. It was the betrayal from my parents and family afterwards that lingers."
"What do you mean?"
"The only reason they let me live was because they all helped raise me. It was a small village. I hadn't caused anyone harm so they kicked me out. Said if I disappeared, I didn't have to die the fiery death she did. So I left. My self preservation instincts are incredibly high so I managed on my own until I found Morgan."
"That's so awful. I'm so sorry Auston. You were alone that whole time?"
"I found companions but I always left after a couple years."
"Did you ever tell anyone else?"
"After all that shit? Absolutely not. I swore to myself that I'd never tell anyone again and I haven't."
"Wow..yeah I guess I can't blame you. That sounds so terrible. I can't even imagine."
"Can you see now why I'm not very trusting?"
"Yes. I get it now. Especially if your survival instincts are so heightened. It makes sense."
"It's nothing personal, I just don't fucking trust anybody that isn't one of us and I don't think I ever will again."
"That's fair. I think you know deep down that I'm not going to say anything though. With both Morgan's word and Mitchy's. I don't care if you'll admit that out loud or not." I got up and brushed off my pants.
"Were are you going?"
"I'm going to get some food. But I'll be back. Don't think you're rid of me yet Matthews." I pointed to him as I walked away making him snort.
"I didn't figure your stubborn ass would give up that easy."
I went up and grabbed some food. I went to the table and called William since I knew he'd be out of the arena by this point. It had been hours since I got here. It rang once before William answered.
"I'm very upset with you."
"I know you are. If it makes you feel any better I think we've made a little bit of progress?"
"Love, I think it's so sweet that you want to try and fix this for everyone but I'm really worried about you being there."
"Tessa is here. Besides I don't want to be at my house alone when no one is here just in case. One weak vampire is still tougher than one Tommy. Even with just Tessa I'd feel safer."
"Baby I'm sorry you don't feel safe. We're going to have a talk about then when I come back okay?"
"Alright that sounds good."
"What have you guys talked about?"
"We traded worse moment in our lives stories. I understand a lot better now why he's so untrusting and nervous about me but I also think he knows deep down that I won't ever put you guys in danger."
"Yes I'm sure he knows that too."
"What are you doing right now?"
"I'm on the bus. We left a little while ago so we should be in Ottawa by 3-ish, maybe 4."
"That's good. How was the game?"
"We won 5-3."
"Yay good job baby! Proud of you."
"Thank you (y/n)." I could hear him smile before he yawned. "Darling I think I'm going to go. I need to get some sleep and I'm keeping Mitch awake. Good luck with talking to Auston about what happened last night."
"Oh I'll do it. I have a 10 hour version of the gummy bear song if he doesn't want to talk."
"Auston's gonna wish we actually killed him after that." I heard Mitch say. "Pure torture. She's a genius."
"Apparently you're a genius babe."
"I am yes. Thank you for noticing Mitchy. I'll let you guys go. I love you."
"I love you."
"See you soon."
"Bye darling."
I hung up and looked at the time. It was almost midnight. I decided to go down to the basement and see if I could get him to talk again.
"I thought I'd gotten lucky and you forgot about me." He said sarcastically.
"Not likely Auston. You ready to talk about what the fuck happened last night?"
"Nope."
"Alright." I shrugged at him and turned on the gummy bear song on my bluetooth speaker. I put it super far out of Auston's reach and cranked it.
"I've been tortured before. This isn't going to break me so you might as well just stop."
"Goodnight Auston." I went upstairs to William's room. I hoped he wouldn't mind me sleeping there then I realized how dumb that sounded and just got into bed. I fell asleep pretty quickly with the knowledge that Auston would be completely driven insane by the music in the morning.
#nhl imagine#nhl story#hockey#hockey story#hockey imagines#maple leafs#maple leaf imagine#leafs#william nylander#william nylander x reader#mitch marner#kasperi kapanen#auston matthews#morgan rielly#halloween#vampire
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Hi, I don't really post what I'm writing here. I've never really had the confidence and I am in a constant battle with my agoraphobia.
I only showed this story that I'm working on to one person. He never got the chance to tell me what he thought about it.
I don't like the silence so I was hoping that in posting this here, even if no one sees it, even if no one cares, that it will bring some type of peace.
Word Count: 1.5k
Title: Lucy Lovingstein
Status: Work in Progress
View on Google Docs
She rushed into the room bringing a gust of wind with her, her shoulders tense, her hair tousled as if fingers were ran through it repeatedly with ambition, and her face a scowl held hostage, cheeks puffed out as if her mouth was full though I knew it wasn’t. “I left him, Patty.” She threw her body down onto the chase in front of me, the place I would have normally sat while I was reading, but decided not to today. “I left him.”
Him, being the man she left us for, left me for. His name was. . .well, is that important? No, it is not. It was an ugly name anyway.
She fell in love suddenly and left just as so. Sudden was her nature, after all, slow was too much for her. It always had been and always would be, which is why she fell out of love with me far quicker than I could have or wanted to. She left for a dazzling city with him. The city being New York, where life was so fast that you had to run even in your sleep. She’d sent a postcard, barely any handwritten words. I could count them on one, maybe one and a half hands. ‘Life is great.’ She started, ‘Miss you much.' and there at the bottom she signed her first name as I knew it, ‘Lucy’ but with a new last name, his last name ‘Lovingstein’ it was likely made up by one of his ancestors but it was real for him. As stupid as it were, was, is.
He took her to places that she had never seen, lived life faster than a winning racehorse. While I sat here at home, working as I usually did and then coming home to an empty home as I usually did and made dinner and read all alone as I usually did. Nothing ever changed for me, not even that, not even the pain in my chest when I got the picture she sent me, the return address was in Vegas. The Vegas. And when I opened it, sure enough, there was a photo of them there, lips locked, hands in places nearing the obscene but the ring was still visible, gleaming even in the photo. Even now where we sit, my heart beats to her rhythm as if she and I were lying side by side again.
I’d made my peace with our lost love many years ago now, she was gone all of twelve, it took me ten and my late cat, Valentine, to feel less lonely. But now she walks in out of the blue, the first I have ever laid eyes on her in years and she barges in undeterred as if she’d left only yesterday, without a single call or even a letter or hell, another postcard. Her confidence has never shocked me more.
“Lucy,” I started placing a bookmark between the pages. “There are so many problems that you have risen that I don’t even know where to start.”
“Do you really still talk like that?” Her eyes were blue still, duller now than in my memory. Perhaps they were the same hue and my memory just applies a filter of sorts, one that makes things brighter and heightens the emotions.
Should I allow her to distract me? “Talk like what, Lucy?” I guess so.
She looked away as she removed her scarf, “As if your life is a book. As if everyone’s life is from pages of text instead of a world of color.”
I placed my book down on the table next to my mug of tea, still steaming but likely not for long. “Why do you talk as if you know me still? As if this is not the first time we have seen each other in twelve years?”
“I wrote you, sent postcards, pictures.” She laid her scarf down on the arm rest and looked back at me, I once again noticed her eyes. Such dull, sad eyes. “You never sent anything back. That is not my fault.”
"Ah yes, because you didn't constantly move and travel. Because I always knew where you were. It's certainly all fault of mine." She would forever be infuriating. I wonder, even now, how I ever loved her.
She waved her hand in the air, "It's no longer important, really. But I must tell you everything now, about him, about why I'm here, about all of it." Her voice cracked toward the end, perhaps it was emotion, or perhaps she needed a glass of water - either way I had little patience for it.
Most of me wanted to yell at her. Tell her how wrong she was to barge into my home, though it was probably on me for that. I'd never moved the spare key in twelve years, she must have guessed so, perhaps it was clear to her too that nothing had changed for me. Though that was no excuse for her to not even express the slightest glimpse of courtesy. Not a hello, or a how are you. But that was Lucy, she often skipped over greetings but not often did she skip over a goodbye. Maybe she liked muddied beginnings and clear endings.
She wanted you to know when she was done with you.
Over the years of both knowing and knowing of Lucy, I have received many a clear ending and muddied beginning. From friends to lovers suddenly when she kissed me. From lovers to nothing when she left me. From nothing to. . .distanced acquaintance when she sent the first post card and many start and stops whenever she felt like.
Though remembering it now, I'm unsure if our ending was ever truly clear. Perhaps our relationship was more of the metamorphosis type, not that I'd ever decided that or cared that it was. She left me.
I knew it was probably my weak willpower that allowed the thoughts of simply conceding and allowing her room to talk to enter my mind. Though perhaps, I was on to something, that if I allow her to speak her mind that maybe, just maybe I will finally be done with her. That the dull ache I feel now will finally subside and I can move on. Heaven knows I've already given my wounds much time. "Fine." I said finally, after a long stare down with her. The air in the room had gathered intensity, but not the uncomfortable kind, or the heated kind. It was the air of an anxiousness that had urgency, excitement, and a tad bit of familiarity. "Go ahead and tell me everything." As I gave her my full attention, I realized that even I, after all these years, missed her and the sound of her voice. I suppose that too had not changed.
"There are so many stories to tell, there are so many paths and timelines that overarch into what he and I had and what it became. But I'll spare you those different tidbits-"
"How kind." I added.
"Please save it until the end, Patty. I really would like to just say what I have to say and be done with it."
I nodded and continued my silence, a feat I had mastered over the years. Perfect silence.
"As you know, we married in Vegas eleven years ago now. And it was a happy marriage for awhile, for a long time." Her voice became somewhat solemn for a moment before it picked up. "But I was having the time of my life, seeing new things every day. Meeting new people every second. It was hectic and I wish I could describe how fast my heart was racing throughout all of it. The joy I felt, the amazement, the fulfillment. It was exhilarating."
She had a smile on her lips and her eyes were faraway, likely reminiscing. Images from her mind's memory banks pulled to the forefront, she probably didn't even see me sitting there anymore. A memory was projected over me, maybe it was of the busy crowds of Vegas, the ancient beauty of Greece or Rome, perhaps even the Amazon jungle. Whatever it was she was seeing, it brought joy to her lips and a slight spark to her eyes.
In a blink it changed.
"Eventually things changed between us. His love didn't feel the same anymore, he only wanted me to see the world through his rose colored glass. I wanted to see so much, but he wouldn't allow it. So I began to sneak off. I saw so much, the poverty, the history, the real people these places created. And I learned so much from them, for years I would just take a week and say I was going shopping or something and just disappeared learning all I could then coming back with random items to disguise my whereabouts." She chuckled. "It was when he finally caught me, that I began to see that I was simply a woman behind a lens for him. That everything about me, in his mind was rugged at first and so he was going to sand me down over the years. Transform me into his version of Lucy Lovingstein, the real me didn't matter to him, it never did."
She stood then, walking towards the window slowly. Passing my tea that was definitely no longer steaming, and looking forlornly at the street through the glass as she pressed her body against the wall.
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I made my first comic today and wrote a fic for it!! I’ve been super inspired by Animaniacs lately with the reboot coming and the poster that was officially revealed. I’m not the best artist in the entire world but I want to get better so constructive criticism is welcomed.
I stood outside the party venue on the Warner Movie lot. It was my first time being at a big party like this and since I was the newest character for this reboot it was imperative that I be there to celebrate with everybody and meet my voice actress Marceline Alderson. The wardrobe department had talked me into wearing high heels for the event and so far they were being my worst enemy. I had almost fallen on my face multiple times that evening it made me wonder how in the world Dot felt so confident in these infernal shoes. It was a little bit colder in the party room so Yakko had leant me his suit jacket. His tie matched the dark blue color of my dress something that his younger siblings had been teasing him about for most of the night.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting long Lizzy, these Hollywood folks are a lot harder to leave than one might think. I guess they just love me too much.” Yakko’s voice startled me out of my thinking and I just laughed at the goofball in front of me.
“Sure keep telling yourself that, I think that the real party starts after you leave.” I teased and he just looked at me aghast as if I had offended him.
“I think you’ve been hanging around Dot a little bit too much sweetheart.” He shot back at me and I laughed at my best friend that I was next to.
“That’s probably true sorry if that sounded mean.” I apologized and Yakko just laughed openly at me.
“And there’s the Liz that I know. We’ve got to work on that over apologizing if you’re going to be in show business.” He reminded me and I looked down at my high heels with a small frown on my face.
“I know it’s not your strongest suit but this town will chew you up and spit you out if you apologize for every little thing. It’s like the eye contact problem that you had a few months ago!! We make it into a game.” The eldest of the trio encouraged me reminding me of a few months back when TP was getting on my case about not being able to look people in the eye. Me and Wakko made it into a game where we would just stare blankly at each other and the first one to burst into laughter at a funny face lost.
“How are your feet doing?” He asked me looking at the blister that had started to grow after I put them on.
“I hate them but I think I can get back to the water tower in one piece. Just put it on the calendar that I am forever wearing Mary Janes to these things from this day forward. I’m not letting wardrobe talk me out of it.” I looked up at the moon and the stars that were glittering all around us. The first time I saw them from the rooftop of the water tower it was like I had never seen them before.
“Good for you stick up for yourself. I know that even the dress was a change of pace for you but you really do look beautiful.” He complimented and I felt a soft pink hue start to spread across my cheeks.
“I probably look really strange with leggings on underneath this nice dress. It was the only way that I would feel comfortable in it. I’m getting better about wearing skirts and dresses but I’ll always be the same soccer loving tomboy.” I sighed a little bit thumbing the ends of the suit jacket. It was so sweet of him to give me his jacket in there when I was nervously shivering before my introduction.
“I don’t think that you look strange at all. You look like yourself and I wouldn’t change you for anything in the world. I think that you really are truly beautiful in just about anything you wear but especially tonight.” I rolled my eyes with a soft smile and a punch to his right shoulder lightly.
“Don’t think that this means that I’m perfectly not capable of kicking your ass.” I threatened and he just laughed openly at me.
“Oh Liz I think that I would actually enjoy that so I wouldn’t go throwing that threat around.” He joked winking at me and I blushed a flaming hot pink.
“Too far?” He asked me and I shook my head with a small laugh at him as we started walking back towards the water tower.
“No it’s alright, I don’t think that you could ever go too far in my opinion.” I hummed my comfort song under my breath, one of the first things that Yakko noticed about me was the fact that I hummed the main theme song from Emperor’s New Groove whenever I got nervous about something. It calmed me down and brought me back to a place of innocence snuggled up in front of the television.
“Was this night too much for you? I noticed that you were humming that song a lot even though it was quiet.” I had been sitting next to my best friend so I figured that he would have been blind to not notice that I was suffering deep down.
“A little bit, I just wasn’t used to being the center of attention. You weren’t the only one to notice. I think Marceline definitely did because she started doing it with me.” I smiled softly thinking about how my voice actress fit both my personality and the type of voice that I had so that children could hear the real me.
“So you’re happy with the person that Rob picked out to voice you?” I nodded my head with a small laugh thinking about the goofball who voiced my goofball.
“I’m actually really happy, she was amazing!! Anybody who will join me in singing that song is automatically my favorite person. You of all people should know that.” He was one of the few people that would sing it with me before every filming.
“It’s actually really fun and a good warm up for my singing too since it’s fast. I realized pretty quickly that it was one of the few things that you were genuinely confident at. Plus I thought that it was adorable that your ultimate favorite Disney movie is the one that is the least like a Disney movie.” I laughed at my best friend holding my arms out a little bit so that I wouldn’t trip like I had done countless times that night. My voice actress had been smart and wore flats telling me that she had the same problem. She wore a really funky looking dress that she told me was Minnie Mouse’s from the Soundsational parade.
“Hey that movie was my childhood, at least one of the better parts of it. It was one of the few times that me and my five siblings would all sit down and shut up so we could watch something together.” I sighed a little bit missing that idea of home that I had grown up with. I hadn’t heard from any of my family members even after the big announcement was made that I was going to be their newest character. It saddened me but at the same time I couldn’t find it in myself to really be all that surprised. My parents were infamous for being the worst after all leaving me here all by myself just telling me to not die.
“Have you heard from any of them since they announced that you were going to be the newest character?” I shook my head putting my hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. He put his arm around my shoulders comfortingly.
“If they don’t want to be a part of your life now than they never will. I’m sorry but it’s true. They might try and come back into your life later on down the line but don’t let them. They all but gave you up just because you don’t conform to societies rules. That was one of the first things that I admired about you. You’re you and there isn’t anybody out there in the whole wide world that is like you Liz.” I nodded because he was right and I knew that it just didn’t mean that those words didn’t hurt me in some way.
“I know it’s okay, I don’t care anymore. Maybe I used to because I thought that it was something that was my fault but I realized through being friends with you guys that being yourself isn’t something to be ashamed of. I like wearing shorts with holes in them, ripped jeans, band tees but I also love wearing the white dress shirt with suspenders and skirt that I have to wear for the show. They wouldn’t accept that part of me and that’s not my fault. Besides I found you and your siblings so I’m not sad anymore. I was always sad living in my childhood home. For all I know they’re not even in California anymore.” He kissed my forehead gently as we walked together in the cold night air.
“If they aren’t it’s probably for the best. It’s like your favorite wise old monkey once said, oh yes the past can hurt but you can either run from it or learn from it.” He tried to change his naturally high pitched voice into one that was lower and wiser and it cracked midway through resulting in me clutching my sides and tearing up I was laughing so hard.
“I need that to be the voice of Rafiki from now on that’s amazing…” I trailed off and he smirked a little bit at me.
“You know the first thing that ever stood out to me about you?” He asked me and I shook my head my ears bobbing.
“It was your laugh, the first time you ever laughed like that I knew you were different.” I looked down at the ground but I didn’t see that at that exact moment my ankle twisted in exactly the wrong way in these devil shoes and I started to tumble a little bit.
“Liz!!” Thankfully Yakko with his quick reflexes caught me. I felt my ankle throb in pain and it kept everything in me not to start crying.
“Hey, hey, hey it’s okay I’ve got you. It’s alright to cry when you’re in pain. I shouldn’t have said that at that exact moment. I’m sorry.” He apologized and I felt the tears slowly start to slip from my eyes looking down and seeing his suit jacket lying on the ground.
“Here I’ll get that for you.” He dusted it off carefully before slipping it back over my shoulders and kneeling so that he could talk to easier.
“I can carry you bridal style, if it would make you more comfortable to do piggy back that’s an option as well. Just leave the devil shoes here wardrobe can come and get them in the morning. I’m used to carrying Dot to bed during most movie nights still so I’m sure I can do it.” I nodded my head weakly. I felt his arm carefully pick me up and I whimpered in pain.
“We’ll take you to the infirmary tomorrow make sure that it isn’t broken. If it is then I take full responsibility it was my flirting that got you here.” He apologized and I looked up into those dark eyes that I had loved so much as a child and loved even more as a teenager.
“It wasn’t your fault Yakko. Thank you for carrying me. I hope that I’m not too heavy.” I protested and he just kissed my forehead hugging me closer to him.
“Nonsense your light as a feather Liz. In fact you could probably do with putting on a few pounds.” He reminded me of how skinny I had been a few months ago. He carried me back to the water tower carefully putting me back down on the couch and I hissed when he put an ice pack on my ankle.
“Would a distraction and some hot chocolate help?” He asked me already knowing me too well as he waved my favorite movie in front of me. He went to go and make my favorite warm drink and came back with a mini marshmallow smile on it. He sat down next to me and put two pillows over his lap before putting my ankle on top of it.
“It helps to keep it elevated. I’m really proud of you for how strong you were tonight. Getting through most of that party even after Scratchy had to take Wak and Dot back here to get some sleep. You put on a brave face even though I know your feet had to have been killing you. I’m really sorry about all this.” He apologized and I just shook my head with a small smile on my face. Him taking care of me was unsurprisingly sweet. He probably had to deal with a lot of injuries dealing with his siblings and it warmed my heart that he had taken such careful care of me.
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