#maybe ill finish him someday when i find him but hes been lost to the crevaces of my bookshelf. i hope he enjoys it there. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xalygatorx · 3 months

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Powerless (2017) | Chapter 11, "No Ordinary Girl"

Years after Sarah’s wit and bravery saved her brother and brought the Labyrinth to its knees, her daughter Andie is transported to what remains of that same fantastical place, somewhere she thought only existed in her favorite childhood stories. To find her way back home, she must traverse what’s left of the crumbling kingdom, find a way to set both moments and magic in motion again, and even save the Goblin King, himself. But who will save her from him?

Powerless is a SFW slow-burn romance between Jareth and an original female character. The story overall contains descriptions of fantasy violence, mild suggestive content, and grief regarding family illness. Chapter-by-chapter warnings will be provided as well.

Summary: Andie is reunited with the group amidst a squabble with the goblins. She and Jareth have a heart-to-heart about her return.

Pairing: Jareth x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k

"What's this?"

"Oh! Careful, sweetie," Sarah had warned gently, steadying Andie's tiny hands on the familiar, dainty music box with the dancer at its center. "It's a music box." Wide jade eyes had taken in the trinket and the little girl looked it over for how to start it. "Here, hold on." She'd kissed the top of Andie's head and reached around her to turn the key under the base, winding it four times before releasing it and easing it back into the child's grasp. The two watched the dancer turn as notes were gently plucked from the mechanism inside, both observing the heirloom's progress until the music faded. "It was my mother's."

"I want to have it someday!" Colette had interjected as always once she heard that, knowing that was leading up to the "and someday it will be yours" conversation and not wanting to be out anything potentially important.

Before seven-year-old Andie could get huffy, Sarah had laughed in her good-natured way, faint creases decorating the corners of her eyes from how often she smiled. "Maybe someday. But for now, go help Dad finish with dinner, okay?"

Both girls had gotten up and, while Colette raced to be the first in the kitchen, Andie lingered and continued to peek into the cardboard box. "Who is this?" she asked, a standard 4x6 photo now holding her attention.

Sarah smiled. "Me when I was your age."

Andie looked shocked. "Really?" She studied the picture with renewed interest. "What are you holding?"

Sarah leaned forward and looked at the photo before answering, "Oh, he was a special one. That was my favorite teddy bear, Lancelot."

"Why isn't he in the box?"

"He got lost in transition to my first house with Dad, I'm afraid," Sarah sighed before conspiratorially whispering, "I think he might have been a bit jealous."

Andie laughed and, upon hearing David call them for dinner, ran to the doorway and paused, looking back at her mom as she put away the music box where they'd unearthed it—the small box that remained of her childhood belongings. The one she still had years and years later. "Will Colette get it?" Andie had wondered and Sarah had noted for what would be one amongst a thousand times that her youngest was old in soul. Where Colette would have asked that question with tears beading in her eyes before even having an answer and then given a shrill, "That's not fair!" before storming away, Andie had looked hopeful and asked for the answer Sarah would give, not the answer Andie necessarily wanted.

Sarah had contemplated her daughter silently. Colette was the spitting image of Sarah's younger self in personality and reactiveness. Andie was her spitting image in appearance. How strange it was to look at her baby girl and see herself, but know that her daughter would see the entire world so differently through the jewel-like eyes she had inherited from her mother. In some ways, Sarah counted herself as glad for that.

She'd smiled at last and said, "Maybe. Maybe not. But that's our secret, sweets. Understand?"

Andie grinned, missing two teeth. "Got it," she had whispered before disappearing, too.

"Oh, now there you go, dear, much better in your room, now isn't it? Hmmm?"

Would you shut up…, Andie griped mentally, as for now she needed the strange old woman to think that she had the upper hand. She had no idea what kinds of dangers she might pose, particularly on her turf in enclosed space. Keeping her head, Andie took a good look at the room, trying to surreptitiously locate where she'd seen a golden sheen and just hoping beyond hope that it hadn't been some part of the illusion. "Um, yeah. Awesome."

"Now, let's see here… Ooh, how about some board games, you love your board games, don't you?"

"Whatever, knock yourself out—wait, what the—" Andie had lost control of her words for a moment, but suddenly she felt light thuds smack into her back and, when the weight didn't disappear, she looked over her shoulder. "Are you kidding me?"

"Let's see what else we've got here… Oooh!"

"What is this?" Andie demanded under her breath as she tried to get the box stuck to her back to budge and it did no such thing. She looked at the woman's crumpled, junk-ridden back and got a sickening sensation in her stomach. I have to get the cog and bail.

"Here are your bunny rabbits, too! Ooh, you love your bunnies, dear!" She felt more objects—at least these were lighter—being stacked on her back and she realized that to win the game, she had to play it.

Andie let herself relax and wandered over toward the bookshelf over the bed, pulling off a couple of books and putting them on the rest of the stuff accumulating on her back and shoulders. Books, of course, you just had to go with books, heaviest freaking things in the freaking room! She continued to move over her mother's old possessions in a stoic, zombielike way, earning delighted crowing ooh's from the woman alongside some commentary over what she was choosing, making it incredibly clear that the woman was watching her progress closely.

She continued to pull books and sort through some of the stuffed animals lying about, unable to avoid noticing in her search what belongings had survived the moves Sarah had made from her father's house to the homes she'd had after getting married. Andie could see the music box out of the corner of her eye and remembered finding it as a child and also how it managed to soothe her ailing mother now. Her heartstrings pulled; all this time in the Labyrinth and she'd hardly given thought to her mother's condition. Though it wasn't terminal and she was doing better, she was still in a state of confusion and Andie was sure that, no matter how much time had passed in the real world, Colette had managed to put her foot in her mouth at least three times since her departure. Give her some credit, Andie, at least she's started to really try.

"Oooh, look what I've found!" Andie looked over and saw the woman eying up the glistening scepter still in her hand. "That's a lovely thing, no? Don't you want to add that to your collection?" Andie debated internally, trying to think of a good excuse to keep it in her hand while she pawed through the room, but while she hesitated, the Junk Lady advanced. "That would look very nice on my back, don't you think so…"

"It's mine," Andie said firmly, startling the woman. "And I'm saving it for last. For the very top."

"Oooh… A good idea, my dear," the Junk Lady said, but only half-convincingly. She still eyed the scepter like a hungry vulture, but she backed away at the solidity of Andie's resolve, going off to look through another part of the room. When she continued with her cooing, Andie continued to look. Finally, on the wall shelf, she saw the glittering again in a more concentrated area. Without seeming too suspicious, Andie maneuvered her way over to the shelves of displayed toys and looked for the source, finally seeing a golden cog wedged into a crack at the back of one of the cubbies. Thank goodness this wasn't for nothing, my back will ache for days, she thought dismally as she reached in and plucked it out, wondering how it had ended up there in the first place.

Tucking the gear into her palm, Andie heard the Junk Lady shuffle in behind her, attempting to add more things to her back, but she'd found what she wanted now. No more games.

With that, Andie straightened and dumped the entire hoard of stuff she'd accumulated onto the woman once she'd gotten close enough and, while the Junk Lady screeched from underneath the pile, Andie looked for a way out. She spotted one and took one step across the bed toward it, but hesitated, looking back at the shelves for a reason she couldn't quite place. As soon as she took another look, she knew why; sitting in one of the center cubbies—a place of honor, she was sure—was a teddy bear she'd seen in a picture a long time ago. Lancelot.

Without hesitating any longer, she took the bear off the shelf and hurdled over the struggling gremlin and the piles of junk littering the floor. In a split-second decision, Andie grabbed a blue backpack off the floor, tossed it over her shoulder and then started to climb up the peeling, disintegrated wall at the far side of the room, using broken bits of the wall and trash that had fallen through for leverage.

After twice nearly falling back in when the trash heaps shifted, she finally made her way out, still hearing the Junk Lady shouting for her to come back behind her. Andie stood straight and took a deep breath once she was free, which was a horrid idea as she was still in a junkyard. She wrinkled her nose and opted to go through the backpack after discarding the bandages around her torso, which had made her climb harder than it had needed to be. As she cut the bandages off with her dagger, she figured that if the Junk Lady actually came after her while she got herself sorted, she could totally take her as long as she didn't have some crazy hidden power she wasn't aware of.

"She would've used it back there," Andie decided aloud before dropping the bandages at her feet and unzipping the bag, looking inside. It was more or less empty apart from a notebook, a pack of pens, a petite drawstring bag, and a dusty costume store flower crown. When Andie touched the crown and a few of the petals fell off, she tossed the whole thing out of the bag to make space, but kept the writing implements because maybe she would need them? She placed the teddy bear inside and took a look at the drawstring pouch, which ended up containing little more than plastic gems. She opened it and instead of dumping out the worthless "jewels," she saved them for Hoggle's amusement and just put the cog inside with them, pulling the strings tightly before putting the bag over her shoulders and juggling the scepter back into her hand from where she'd pinned it beneath her arm.

Andie looked over the distance between herself and the Goblin City gates, frowning a bit before deciding she had no choice but to hike through about a mile of trash. She could only hope that there weren't any more traps to be found. She did notice movement here and there and realized soon enough that those movements were from others like the Junk Lady and Andie wondered how many had fallen for her grandmotherly charade and had remained here after failing to get wherever they were going.

She shook off the thoughts—she couldn't think about that. Instead, Andie trudged forward through the junkyard, trying to hurry and get herself as far from this place as she could.

After trekking through mounds of clutter and muttering that the first thing she was going to do upon her return home was clean her apartment top to bottom—though it was, thankfully, not even close to resembling this ridiculous place—Andie stepped off the last heap, almost tottering when the ground didn't move beneath her weight. Regaining her balance, she adjusted the backpack on her shoulders and lightly tapped the end of the scepter against her leg as she walked, an absent-minded action that somehow helped her focus.

Andie moved past the gates she'd seen her comrades disappear through, scrutinizing at the crumbled city before her. Some of the damage looked like the rest of the Labyrinth's state of disarray, but some of the houses and walls looked like they'd been hit with things, small circular craters that could have been from cannonballs decorating the sand-colored stone. As she walked deeper into the city, she started to call out names, giving up on searching for them when they may be long gone. "Jareth? Hoggle? Nyle? Anybody?"

She frowned as she reached what was likely the center of the Goblin City and inhaled deeply to try one more time when an unpleasantly familiar, grating voice intercepted hers. "Well, well, look who it is!" crowed the goblin from the wall, sitting on a nearby stoop.

"Piss off," she muttered in its general direction, starting to walk again.

"No chance of you getting out of here this time, you know," it said smugly.

"Whatever, leave me alone."

"Ready?" She turned to say something more colorful when it shouted, "Now!" Suddenly armored goblins were coming at her this way and that with all manners of weapons including swords too big for them to comfortably handle, tiny cannons, and weird toothy monsters on sticks. Shit, she thought to herself as she backed away from the oncoming hordes, soon finding herself surrounded and opting to take higher ground by standing atop the well at the middle of the courtyard.

"What the hell do you want from me?!" she demanded, wielding the scepter before her as a clear threat.

"Get her! Charge!" the goblins all squealed in a collaboration of noise as they ambushed her. When she heard one of them in the back yell, "Fire!" she had the good sense to look up just in time to wield the scepter like a bat and swing, knocking away the cannonball flying toward her, its legs flailing as it sailed back toward its source. She was haphazardly knocking the goblins back, fending them off until a massive boulder tumbled through the courtyard, sending a good two thirds of the goblins toppling under or away from its mass.

Andie looked over toward where the boulder had come from and saw that her traveling party had come back and were fighting off the goblins hellbent on attacking her, likely as payback for the last time she'd nearly been carried off by them and had escaped. But, really, who knew the motives of goblins?

As she was looking over toward her friends, one of the goblins jumped her, nearly knocking them both back into the well. However, Andie grabbed the wrought iron arch over the well opening and hung on, smacking the goblin with the scepter until it slipped off of her and dazedly fell down the hole with a splash. She kicked her legs and swung herself back onto the edge of the well, stepping down now that she was able to with Didymus and Leona leading the fight against the goblins, Nyle and Jareth more or less helping for their own amusement as Ludo continued to manipulate the rocks and Hoggle, well, hid nearby. A goblin sneaking up behind Jareth caught her eye and she shouted at him before tossing the scepter toward him, which he caught before finally getting the hint and turning around to face the mutinous creature behind him, who quickly cowered under his king's wrath.

Soon enough, the courtyard had cleared and they were all left in the dusty city, scuffed and newly exhausted. "I can't believe you're alive," Nyle finally noted after a long silence amongst them. "What happened?"

"Uh, I fell… Ended up in the castle… Went through another void when I couldn't find a different way out," Andie said as she caught her breath from the unexpected brawl. "And then I hiked through a junkyard to get here when I saw you guys come through the gates."

"I thought I heard something," Didymus huffed and she guessed he'd attested to that and the others hadn't believed him or something to that effect. "Forgive us, my lady."

"It's okay, I'm just glad it all worked out," Andie said honestly. "What brought you all here?"

"A poor navigator," Nyle said, squinting toward Didymus. "But it wasn't all for naught. We were able to climb up one of the houses and spotted the Wiseman's usual post just a few turns over. Incidentally, being up there was how we saw you, too."

"Glad for it," Andie admitted. "Thanks."

"Any time," Hoggle said firmly and Andie didn't have the heart to point out that he hadn't done a damn thing. "So, should we get going?"

They all agreed to head out and at least get part of the way there before resting up as per usual in one of the pathways. Andie took a moment to get the pouch from her backpack as they walked and got the cogs from Hoggle to keep with the one she'd found, giving him the plastic gems and laughing at the gleam they put in his eyes as he added them to his collection. It occurred to her that the only one who hadn't said a word to her yet was Jareth when she looked over to see him staring at the open bag and the bear inside. He spun the scepter between his fingers and Andie took that as a good diversion. "I found that in the castle when I was looking for a way out. Figured you might want it."

"I can't do much with it without magic, I'm afraid," he said bluntly. "But thank you."

"Sure," she murmured, walking along behind the others and dropping the conversation.

A long few moments stretched in silence between the two of them until Jareth finally sighed. "I daresay I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

He looked almost scandalized. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm confused, actually."

"Back in the jungle. I asked you to trust me."

"…Yes?" Andie said uncertainly, her tone urging him to expand on that.

"I failed you. And, for that, I am truly sorry." He frowned faintly. "You placed your trust in me and it could have killed you."

"Could have. Didn't," she said, a bit uncomfortable. "Look, it's all right. It wasn't your fault that I fell. Okay?"

"It doesn't matter," Jareth sighed, looking ahead instead of directly at her, which was unusual for him. "I could have… You were nearly lost and it would have been on my hands. Regardless of whose fault it was, the result would have been devastating. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," Andie said quietly. What did he mean by that?

"Though I do wonder what inspired you to take this along," he noted as he twirled the silver scepter.

"I don't know, really. It looked important," she admitted sheepishly as she watched the object move fluidly under his manipulation.

He smirked and she felt relieved when she saw that, thinking maybe things were coasting back toward normal after the odd tension of their reunion. "As considerate as your actions were, your return was much more important."

Andie wasn't sure how to respond to that, so the two walked in silence until the group stopped to rest, as Nyle had declared they were halfway to where they'd seen the Wiseman earlier on and that he would still be there after they had all rested and regained their strength. Jareth yawned widely and looped his arms loosely around Andie's shoulders, leaning his cheek heavily on the side of her head. "Sleep. A grand notion."

"Could you act your age? For two seconds?"

"Where's the fun in that? Be a dear and snuggle."

"You absolute ass, get off me."

After he'd finished laughing at her—which took a good while longer than she would have liked—they found a spot near the maze wall in their normal proximity to one another. Ambrosius and Didymus fell asleep nearby and Andie heard them snoring almost immediately and it was hilariously in unison. She felt Jareth lean his head on her shoulder and allowed it, relaxing and closing her eyes as the rest of the group quieted, themselves.

Andie had just settled in when she felt something suspicious. "I swear to god, if you just licked my ear…"

"Dear girl, I don't know what you're talking about." He mused about her "dirty mind" for a moment more under his breath and when she didn't retaliate, he finally dozed off. Andie looked down at him, at his peaceful features slackened by sleep, and sighed a bit, a faint smile working across her lips as she shook her head and got comfortable without jarring him, soon losing herself to unconsciousness, too.

Across the pathway, Nyle watched them through one half-open eye, calculating again until his features tightened incrementally with resolve and his lid slid the rest of the way closed.

Next chapter: Chapter 12, "It's Only Forever"

#labyrinth #labyrinth fanfiction #labyrinth fanfic #jareth x oc #jareth the goblin king #jareth #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #the labyrinth #romance fanfiction

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bwoahtastic · 2 years

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Okay so for some reason the Omega gang AU idea with hulknussen really inspired me to write. I haven't written anything in years and never anything like that, so its not exactly art, but it was just fun to write, and I thought I should share. So here you go, Nico and Kevin's first interaction in Nicos bar.

Nico placed the drink in front of the glaring Omega. "Here you go. Just call me if you need anything. And I mean anything" finishing the sentence with a wink, Nico was about to leave when the cute Omega he had just served quietly said: "There is something wrong with your eye!"

Nico couldn't help the puzzled frown that appeared on his face. "Excuse me?"

"There is something wrong with your one eye, it keeps closing when you are talking to me. Do you have something in your eye?" the Omega, he had just learned was named Kevin answered while pointing to the offending eye.

Nico stared incredulously back at the blond.

"Do I have... no I was winking at you!"

Frowning even more, trying to understand what was going on, Kevin looked even more confused.

"Okay... do you have some sort of illness or tick or something?" He asked, searching for answers to the Alphas seemingly strange behavior.

Spluttering Nico tried to explain himself: "What... why would you...? I'm flirting with you!"

All Nico got from that statement was a narrowing of the Omegas eyes and an even more intense glare.

The clenched "Why?" was uttered in such a menacing way that had Nico been any less secure in his Alphadom he probably would have acted differently. But Nico decided to leave anger and insecurity behind long ago, and instead found life much easier just rolling with the punches. And this little cutie had a lot of punches. Not anything he couldn't deal with though, but something that promised a good time. Nico is nothing if not an opportunist and messing with the pretty Omega was just too good to pass up. He would most definitely rather flirt than fight.

"You are cute obviously, why wouldn't I flirt with you?" He teased and winked.

"I'm not cute! And whatever this is... it's clearly unprofessional and should get you fired!" Kevin was ruffled and didn't know how to react other than trying to threaten the annoying and very confusing server. If Max weren't here on business he probably would have already been throwing hands. Instead of backing of though, the Alpha just smirked even wider at him.

"Too bad short stuff, I own the place. You ain't getting rid of me that easy!" Nico said, winking excessively to try and get an even greater reaction out of the blond. Holding himself back from ruffling the clearly flustered Omegas hair.

"Well just stop the dumb eye twitching! It's distracting! And I'm not that short, you are just abnormally tall!" Kevin tried to retaliate, but the comeback was weak and hesitant. He had never been in a situation like this before, and his clumsy fumbling for a comeback to the annoying Alpha was hurting his ego.

"Are you always this cute when you get hit on?" Nico was having the time of his life seeing the aggressive Omega completely lost for words, getting an even redder complexion in what must be a full body flush. Something he would be very interested in exploring in the future.

Realizing that the color of his cheeks were giving him away, Kevin took his drink and drowned it in one swallow, turning away from the tall server, to hide his face and hopefully make the Alpha disappear.

The Omegas suddenly unsure and shy behavior didn't exactly discourage Nico, but only made him more determined to find out more about the blond. There was clearly something soft hidding behind the tough exterior, maybe someday he might actually see the real Kevin.

"I see you already finished your drink, why don't I bring you a new one on the house? I mean beautiful guys like you must be used to getting free drinks everywhere you go." He said while smirking at the Omegas turned back, hoping to get Kevin to turn around again. He had barely uttered the last word before the Omega turned around sharply, still clearly flushed but with a mighty glare aimed at Nico.

"I'm most definitely not Beautiful! I'm not graceful or charming either so you can forget that! I won't purr for you like a GOOD Omega! AND I PAY FOR MY OWN DRINKS!" Kevin replied angrily, fighting with himself to keep his tone of voice at a reasonable level, while jamming his pointer finger into the Alphas chest. To say he was upset was an understatement. How dare the Alpha talk to him like he was some pretty little Omega. Thinking more about it, he could not help but remove his hand from the Alpha and rub his own chest, right over the old scar, long healed and covered with a tattoo. When he got upset the more severe scars and burns hurt and ached and it had become habit to rub them to calm down. Especially the one on his chest that he was touching now. The one that almost killed him. No, he would never be called beautiful.

"I'm sorry to hear that's how you feel love, but you don't get to decide if others find you attractive" the Alpha replied in a more subdued manor, smirk gone and instead wearing a bit of a worried frown. Nico started absently rubbing his chest on the spot that was probably bruised by Kevin, unintentionally mirroring the Omegas actions, when he continued: "So too bad for you, looks like you are stuck with me winking at you whenever you come here. And just so you know, I live just upstairs from here and you are always welcome there, day or night... preferably at night, and I'll show you just how beautiful you are and how well you can purr!"

Leaving the gobsmacked and full body blushing Omega, the smirking Alpha went to his office to meet with the gangleader patiently waiting for him. The promise of striking a deal with Max, making the bar their regular hang out, just got a whole lot more appealing.

JDSJJDDJ AH OMG I LOVE THIS1

Kevin being a little hothead and being genuinely confused when Nico is flirting cos no one ever does that, and nngg him rubbing his scars when he is anxious (you just know Nico would take his time kissing all those scars when Kevin finally comes padding into his apartment on night)

And ecdxndjdf Kevin even being offended when Nico offers him a drink on the houseee!! Poor thing has no clue they Alphas could find him attractive!

Max would be so amused to see Kevin blushing though, and it's just another reason for him him choose Nico's pub! Just so Kevin maybe finally learns he isn't a monster or a freak (Max is a softie too🥺)

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ANON THANKS FOR SHARING

#asks #mafia omega #fic submisson

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darkshadow90 · 3 years

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Arthur Fleck x reader: You walk in on him in Penny’s hospital room

Summary: You walk in on Arthur removing a pillow from Penny’s face. You put two and two together and realize he did one of the worst things a person could do. Things get tense. You are terrified of him. A few weeks go by and you think you no longer have to worry. You’re wrong.

A/N: Hey guys. This is based on an idea I had. What if someone had walked in on Arthur just after killing Penny? I’d like to think he wouldn’t kill that person, but I’m not entirely sure. Anyway, the reader and Arthur have been dating for about a month. After hearing about what happened to Penny, she decides to go to the hospital to comfort him and keep him company. It doesn’t end well. Warnings: Arthur is delusional. References to murder, tense situations, obsessive behavior. Arthur doesn’t kill the reader, so don’t worry. I hope you like it 🙂

You and Arthur had been dating for about a month. He had lost his job, so you didn’t mind helping out with things. It wasn’t as much help as you wanted to give, but you were happy to do little things like cook meals for Penny whenever he wasn’t at the apartment. He told you he was looking for jobs. Penny seemed friendly enough, a bit anxious and aloof, but she wasn’t mean spirited. You figured it was the medicine she had been taking since she wasn’t in the best of health. She did seem worried about you and Arthur being together at first. Once she realized you weren’t trying to take advantage of him, she backed off a bit. After she had gotten used to having you around more often, she would talk about Arthur a lot. She would talk about how she worried about him, that she wouldn’t know what would happen to her if something happened to him. You told her she didn’t need to worry, and didn’t need to feel guilty about you helping out while Arthur was job hunting. You always called her Miss Fleck, and she would wave her hand and say, “Oh please, no need to be so formal. Call me Penny, dear.” And you did. She would always say, “Happy is so lucky to have a girl like you around. We both are. I wish there were more people like you in Gotham. When Thomas Wayne helps us, I’ll tell him to offer you a job.” It was about a week later when you heard the bad news.

Penny had a stroke and was in the hospital. So on your way back from the bank one afternoon, you decided to go to the hospital and visit Penny and offer Arthur some comfort. You asked the receptionist where Penny’s room was and went there. You knew Arthur would be happy to see you. You made it to Penny’s room, and what you saw horrified you. You saw Arthur removing a pillow from Penny’s face. He dropped it when he saw you looking at him with wide eyes and a face as white as chalk. “Y/N.” “Arthur...what...” You could barely control your breathing. “Y/N, let me explain.” He was trying to calm you. “What did you do?!” You practically shrieked at him. “Shhh, Y/N. I had to you see, she was—” You didn’t let him finish. You began sobbing. “How could you?! She was your mother. You’re a monster!”

Your words hurt him, but he knew you didn’t mean them. In his mind, all you needed was to let him explain everything. Then you would understand why he did it. You would see he wasn’t a bad person. You just needed time to process everything. He didn’t want you to know about the Arkham file, so he came up with something. “Y/N, I did it because she was already dying. She wasn’t leaving this hospital, she was practically brain dead. Now she won’t be sick anymore. She went peacefully.” You understood, but killing someone is still wrong, gravely ill, brain dead, or not. He reached out to you, and you backed away. “Y/N, why are you so upset? Everything is fine.” You didn’t know what to do.

He said it in a way that didn’t sound like Arthur at all. It was his voice, but the tone was different. It was uncaring, smug. You had never seen Arthur like this. This was not your sweet boyfriend anymore. He changed. “Let’s go home.” You shook your head. “No.” “Oh come on, Y/N. Don’t be difficult.” You snatched your hand away. “No. I can’t be with someone who killed his mother.” “Y/N.” He said your name in a warning tone, it was another tone you never heard from him before. It frightened you and you tried to run. Arthur grabbed you, holding you so tightly against him, it hurt. You were trying to break free, but he tightened his grip. “Let go! You’re hurting me!” That seemed to snap him out of it. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I—” You told him to leave you alone and ran off.

Arthur was hurt by what happened. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He just didn’t want to lose you. He hated seeing you upset. It was like he briefly lost control of himself because he couldn’t bare the thought of losing you. He needed you more than ever. In his mind, he knew you didn’t mean what you said. You just needed time to grieve so you could adjust. He would never hurt you. He loves you. He didn’t know where that darkness, the darkness, he had been fighting came from. It would be okay as long as he had you. Unfortunately, the night on the Murray Franklin show would lead to the death of Arthur and the birth of Joker. He just didn’t know it yet.

You hadn’t heard from Arthur for a few weeks. What happened at the hospital really scared you. Arthur loved his mother dearly. It bothered you that he didn’t show much emotion after it happened. Even if she had been sick for a long time, wouldn’t he have been sad to lose her. You thought maybe it was just the overwhelming relief he felt not having to see her suffer. Still the lack of emotions and concern for your feelings troubled you. It was like he was expecting you to be happy she was gone, too. You understood that he didn’t want her to suffer, but she was his mother. You realized you weren’t safe with Arthur. If he could kill his mother and felt nothing, he could do the same to you someday. You were too afraid to call the police. You hoped they could figure it out themselves. You were scared when you turned on the news and heard that a man named Joker killed Murray Franklin, but fortunately he was apprehended and taken to Arkham. You wondered why you didn’t hear anything about Arthur. You thought maybe a city like Gotham just didn’t care enough to report on a peasant killing another peasant. Gotham only cares about rich people.

About a month later there was a note by your door. You thought it was odd it wasn’t in your mailbox. You opened it. “Y/N. I have great news. I’m finally gonna break out of this shit hole. For a place called Arkham State Hospital, it’s a pretty far cry from a hospital. Who would’ve thought me shooting a TV host was the thing that would finally put me in a mental hospital? Anyway, I bet you’re wondering how you got this letter. I had one of the boys drop it off. He was happy to do it. They keep calling me “boss” for some reason. I can’t wait to see how happy you’ll be to see me. I’ve missed you so much. See you soon.” There was a smile drawn in red ink and the bottom of the letter.

You felt sick. You didn’t know what to do. You knew if you tried to leave Arthur would find you. And now that he had goons helping him, leaving would be even more difficult. You would soon come to learn that Arthur would always be steps ahead of you. He loved you and he took necessary measures to make sure you would never leave him.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joker arthur fleck #joker movie #joker imagine #joker fandom #joaquin phoenix joker #joker 2019

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gallavictorious · 4 years

Text

Fic: This Time (We’ll Be Fine)

Ian's bipolar was always bound to make itself known again sooner or later, so Lip's not exactly shocked when Mickey swings by to break the news. Well, he's a little surprised at first, when he opens the door to find his brother-in-law and not, say, any of his siblings or Kev waiting outside. While Mickey's joined Ian in helping out with the renovations a few times, him dropping by out of the blue and all by his lonesome is still a bit of an occasion.

”Hey,” Lip says, pulling off his work glows. He's spent the last hour removing the old counter tops from the kitchen, hoping to get it done before Tami returns with Freddie from a visit to her parents.

”Hey.” There's an awkward pause, but before Lip can ask what's up, Mickey plows on: ”So, Ian's been a little off for a few days, and we're pretty sure it's early signs of a manic episode.”

Something about the way he says it has Lip momentarily flashing back to the day many years ago, when Mickey and his brothers had confronted him about Ian allegedly messing with Mandy. He almost braces himself, because while he's been over that whole thing for years and years, his body still remembers the pain.

Then the actual words sink in and ah, fuck. It not being a surprise doesn't mean it doesn't hit like a punch to the gut.

With the worry comes a pinch of guilt: the house he rented is actually liveable now and he and Tami moved into it a month or so ago, but there's still a lot of work to be done and Lip's been spending every waking hour not devoted to his job or Freddie trying to get it fixed. It hasn't left him a lot of time for checking in with the rest of his familly.

”Is he okay?” he asks.

”Yeah. Well, no, he's a fucking mess, but he will be, you know. Fine. Upped his downers and booked an appointment down at the clinic on Monday, so they'll sort this shit out, get his pills adjusted or whatever. He's in bed now, sleeping it off.” Mickey lets out a sigh, distractedly reaching for a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Lip doesn't protest when he lights up, even though he knows that Tami will say something snide about the smell when she comes home.

Let her; man looks like he can use a smoke. Lip wouldn't mind one himself, but bites back the urge to ask.

”Anyway,” Mickey continues, ”I just wanted to let you guys know, and, uh, I was thinking that maybe you'd come by someday next week. For dinner or whatever?”

Lip blinks. Sure, they ate together all the time when they were all staying at the Gallagher house, and they've shared a few meals since Lip moved his little family across the alley, so having dinner in and of itself isn't really weird – but getting an official invitation to one, and from Mickey of all people? Yeah, that's new.

His surprise must show, because Mickey makes a face. ”Yeah, I know,” he mutters. ”It's just... He hates it, you know? He's got it under control and he'll be fine but it's... he hates it. He'll be fucking dejected and shit for weeks, even after the new meds kick in. And you guys always cheer him up, so I figured... ” He shrugs, not finishing the sentence.

It occurs to Lip that maybe it isn't easy for Mickey to come here and ask for this – to ask Lip for anything. There was a time when Lip thought Ian an absolute idiot for falling for Mickey Milkovich, and he's pretty sure Mickey knows as much, because Lip sure as hell didn't try to keep it a secret. But that was a long time ago, and as far as Lip's concerned, they've been good for years now. He's not sure if Mickey knows that, though, or feels the same way; they've never really talked about it.

So yeah, maybe it's not easy for Mickey to come here. He does it anyway; for Ian, he always will.

Lip loves him a little for that.

”Yeah, yeah, sure, man,” he says quickly, realizing that he's been silent for too long, lost in thought, and that Mickey is looking at him with something quite close to barely concealed anxiety. ”Of course we'll come.”

Mickey's shoulders drop just a fraction of an inch at that. He givs a curt nod. ”Okay. It'll probably take a few days before his, I don't know, levels are adjusted or whatever. But maybe you can keep your evenings open and I'll call you? And don't let him know I talked to you, right?” he adds, giving Lip a decidedly threatening look. ”He fucking hates it when people make a fuss.”

”Yeah, no, I know. I won't say anything. Thanks for letting me know.”

Mickey nods again, tossing his cigarette butt to the ground. Lip makes a mental note to pick it up before Tami gets back.

As Mickey makes to take off, Lip calls out, on an impulse: ”Hey, Mick.”

Mickey stops. ”What?”

”You ever hesitate?” Off Mickey's blank stare, he adds: ”Getting back together. Dealing with this for the rest of your life. You know how crazy it can get.” Knows it only all too well; Mickey had been there when Ian first fell ill and in spite of doing as well, and way better, than could possibly have been expected of him, it had not ended very well for Mickey.

That shit's gotta hurt. Looking at Mickey now, Lip thinks he can see the strain lurking under his mostly calm demeanor. See the fear, maybe.

And still Mickey glares at Lip like he's an idiot. ”Fuck no, I didn't hesitate,” he says, sounding affronted. ”It's just a fucking disease, man. We'll deal. Think I'm gonna ditch him because he has a few off days every now and then? Who the fuck doesn't have off days?”

It's more than a few off days every now and then, and they both know that – but Lip knows, too, that to Mickey, to some degree, it really is that simple. It's a disease. It's serious and it sucks, but it's not the sum total of Ian; it doesn't define him. And sure, Lip knows this on an intellectual level, as does the rest of his siblings, but he thinks that maybe Mickey is the only one who truly, fully gets it on an emotional one.

With that in mind, Lip meets Mickey's glare, unflinching. ”Still. It can get pretty rough. I guess what I'm saying is... if you, like, ever needed to talk or just, you know, take a break and hang out, I'm here.” He might not always have been great about Mickey, or great about being there for people in general, but he's been doing a lot better with the latter lately and maybe he can use whatever supportive skills he picked up at AA to do better at the former, too.

He's half convinced that Mickey will roll his eyes and walk off with an insult thrown over his shoulder, and he's fully convinced that Mickey's actually considering just that before opting to just nod again. ”Yeah,” he mutters. ”Thanks.”

”You're welcome.” Lip pauses, hesitating. But fuck it: ”I'm glad, you know. That he has you?”

And apparently that pushes the conversation too far into sentimentality because now Mickey does roll his eyes, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. ”Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll call you.”

He walks off. Lips pick up the cigarette butt and heads inside.

---

The call comes on Thursday morning, and a little past five in the afternoon Lip carries Freddie through the kitchen door with Tami in tow.

Liam's doing homework by the table and Mickey is stood by the stove, staring down an enormous pot of boiling water.

”Hey,” he says, sounding for all the world like he's surprised to see them, but he gives them a quick, grateful look, before jerking his head in the direction of the living room, where Ian's chilling with Debbie, Franny, and Carl in front of the TV.

Ian looks tired, and maybe even paler than normally, but he smiles readily enough when he catches sight of them. His smile widens further when Lip hands Freddie over for him to hold. ”Hey, buddy,” he coos.

”You guys staying for dinner?” Mickey calls from the kitchen. ”Made a shit ton of pasta, so there's plenty to go around.”

Lip makes a show of looking at Tami for confirmation.

”Yeah sure, why not?” she says, playing along. ”Saves me having to cook in a kitchen that's only half-existent.” She raises her voice: ”Thanks, Mickey, we'd love to.”

They chat for a while, and then Debbie and Tami starts comparing notes on child development, which for some reason is slightly unsettling – maybe because there's part of him that still thinks of Debbie as his little baby sister and hearing her talk to his baby mama like an equal is fucking strange – and eventually he, Ian and Carl move into the kitchen, leaving Freddie with Tami.

Liam puts away his homework; Ian grabs them drinks from the fridge; it's familiar and comfortable and, yeah, Lip's missed this.

He looks up and catches Ian watching him. ”So, you guys just decided to stop by, huh?” Ian asks casually.

Lips shrugs, deliberatedly not glancing toward Mickey chopping lettuce by the sink. ”Yeah, you know. Been a while since we all got together, figured it'd be nice to just drop by.”

”Uh-huh.” Ian does glance over his shoulder at Mickey, who is doing a very good job of pretending to be entirely engrossed in his salad-making and not at all listening in on any conversations. Lip keeps his face carefully blank as Ian turns back to him with a knowing look on his face. There's a hint of annoyance there; maybe a hint of resignation too, and something else that Lip can't quite decipher –

For a moment, he thinks that Ian is going to say something, but then his brother rises abruptly instead. A few long strides and he's right behind Mickey, grabbing hold of his wrist and spinning him around, which is hell of a bold move, considering that Mickey is Mickey and holding a fucking knife.

”What the – ” Mickey begins, but is quickly silenced as Ian claims his lips for a kiss.

Claims really is the right word, Lip thinks, feeling as if he should avert his eyes, but not quite managing to. It's a thorough kiss; rough; demanding. Ian's got his arms wrapped around Mickey's neck, his body pinning Mickey against the kitchen counter, and there's something possessive about it, something that – yes – speaks of claim and want and need.

Mickey's still holding the knife in one hand, half a lettuce in the other, and he can't really do much but stand there and let Ian kiss him. Not that he seems to mind in the slightest, Lip notes, and fuck it, but he never thought he'd see the day when Mickey Milkovich would just melt into Ian's arms, his kiss, so easily and so happily; so entirely without reservation, in spite of being surrounded by inlaws.

Eventually Ian lets go and steps away, walking back to the table with studied nonchalance, as if he's not, in fact, leaving his husband flushed and with swollen lips and a dazed grin. The look on Ian's face gives lie to his casual attitude, however: there's something fierce there and a hint of a satisfied smirk lurking in the corner of his mouth.

Then he sits down and blinks and is just plain old Ian again, Lip's little brother grinning easily. ”How's it going with the counter tops?” he asks. ”You convince Tami to go with the concrete ones?”

”Hell no,” Lip says, taking a sip from his coke to hide his smile. ”Apparently anything but marble or at least granite is out. She's saying we should invite Aunt Opie over, have her get so shocked over our living conditions that she offers to pay for the whole thing, but... ”

Over by the stove, Mickey returns to his salad. He's still smiling. So is Ian, as he listen to Lip detail the horrors of home renovation, and Lip thinks that maybe this time they're all going to be just fine.

#mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #gallavich #lip and mickey kinda sorta bonding #over dealing with ian's illness #(ian also deals with it and does very well)#also a family kitchen scene #and some rough kisses #because i'm weak for that #slight angst with a happy ending #fic #2101 words #my stuff

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celestialvoid-fanfiction · 4 years

Text

I really want a sterek scene stealer AU that’s the episode of Star Trek: Voyager, Blood Fever (Season 3 Episode 16). Derek would be B'Elanna – a half-Klingon who finds himself experiencing symptoms of the Pon farr (a point in a Vulcan’s life where their disciplined logic is overwhelmed by emotion and instinct as they’re driven to return to Vulcan and take a mate) after being mentally bound to a young Vulcan – Jennifer Blake – who’s undergoing it. Stiles would be Lieutenant Parris, a human who everyone thinks is cocky and a womanizer, but he’s been hiding his feelings for Derek for a long time.

They make their way down to a planet to collect gallicite when the side effects of the Pon farr begin to take its toll on Derek; he becomes irritated and aggressive.

As the away team – Derek, Stiles and Scott – go rig up their gear and descend into the caverns and collapsed tunnels, Scott’s piton gives way and he falls. Derek and Stiles hurry down after him. Derek loses it, he starts shouting at Scott for being irresponsible but Stiles argues that Scott did nothing wrong; either the gear was faulty or the rock gave way. He says they should contact the ship, but Derek is determined to finish the mission – his anger growing – and when Stiles reaches out to stop him, Derek wheels around and bites Stiles’ cheek before taking off into the tunnels.

Stiles contacts the ship and tells them what happened.

“He’s either out of communications range or just not responding,” Stiles says. “His last known position was ten meters below our current position. I tried to stop him from leaving, Captain, but he got hostile and bit me.”

“He bit you?” Commander Parrish repeats, stunned.

“And he seemed to be enjoying it, in a Klingon kind of way.”

Boyd – another Vulcan on the ship – deduces what’s happened. He and Commander Parrish beam down to the planet to help get Scott medical treatment before going after Derek.

Boyd explains that the Pon farr can be fatal if the urges are not addressed, they set out after Derek—he’s after the gallicite, so they hope that following it will lead them to Derek.

Stiles is the first to find Derek, and when he does, he seems his normal self for a moment; not angry or irritated, but excited to have found the resources they came for.

“How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” Boyd asks, approaching Derek carefully.

“Fine.”

“We need to get you back to the ship,” Commander Parrish says.

“Why?”

“You are experiencing a condition known as Pon farr,” Boyd explained.

“Pon what?”

“Your emotional balance has been disrupted. You may not be in control of your more aggressive instincts.”

“I lost my temper for a moment, that’s all,” Derek said. He glances between them noticing the urgency and worry in their eyes. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Please come back to the ship with us,” Boyd says, insistent. He takes a step forward.

“Just leave me alone!”

They freeze as members of an alien species step out of the shadows.

Parrish is able to calm them down, explaining they have no ill-intent, but the alien nods towards Derek. “He does.”

“He’s suffering from a chemical imbalance which is effecting his behaviour,” Parrish explains. “We’d be happy to take him and leave your territory.”

But before they can react, Derek lashes out, fighting off one of the aliens.

“Derek, stop!” Stiles says, grabbing Derek by the shoulder.

The two fall to the ground.

The cave walls rumble and the earth beneath them shakes.

Stiles looks up to see the ceiling crumbling.

“Derek!” he shouts, grabbing him and pulling him aside as the walls cave in and the ground falls from beneath them. When the dust settles, it’s just Stiles and Derek.

Stiles steadies Derek, checking on him. He has a cut on his arm and his head, but he’s conscious.

“We have to get back to the ship,” Stiles says.

“We can’t leave Boyd and Parrish down here,” Derek argues.

“The minerals in the walls inhibit the tricorders; we can’t scan for life signs or a way out. Out best chance is to get back to the ship and get some help, for them and for you.”

“Why does everybody keep saying there’s something wrong with me?”

Stiles does his best to explain what’s happening as they make their way through the tunnels, trying to get back to the surface.

“Boyd’s got to be wrong about this. It doesn’t make sense,” Derek argues.

“It does explain how you’ve been acting,” Stiles counters.

“I don’t see what’s so strange,” Derek says defensively.

“How about starting a fight with a group of armed aliens, shouting at Scott, giving me this—” He points at his cheek which is still bloodied from where Derek had bit him. “—and if I remember my Klingon customs correctly, biting someone on the face means—”

“I know what it means,” Derek cuts him off.

It’s a way of a Klingon choosing a mate, he thinks.

“Alright. Maybe I do feel something, some kind of instinct. What am I supposed to do about it?”

“When we get back to the ship, the doctor should be able to help,” Stiles reassures him.

Derek stops at a dead end, positioning the butt of the rifle into his shoulder and aiming at the rock.

“Whoa!” Stiles says, grabbing the end of the rifle and pointing it down—stopping Derek from firing. “We don't know how stable this tunnel is. An energy blast might bring the rest of it down on our heads.”

“Let go!” Derek growls, trying to pull the rifle out of Stiles’ grip, but Stiles resists him, taking the rifle.

“No. I think I should keep this.”

Derek tightens his grip on it, jerking it to the side and throwing Stiles back against the rocky wall, pinning him there.

“Never pick a fight with a Klingon, Stiles.”

“I'm not going to fight with you, Derek,” Stiles says, keeping his voice level and calm.

Derek’s voice is low, threatening; his eyes dark and filled with bloodlust. “Afraid I'll break your arm? You should be.”

“Derek, stop it! This isn't about the gun. This is about sex. But that's not gonna happen right now.”

A smirk turns up Derek’s lips as he leans in close and breathlessly says, “I think it is. See, I have picked up your scent, Stiles. I've tasted your blood.”

“No,” Stiles says firmly. “I'm your friend, and I have to watch out for you when your judgement's been impaired. If you let these instincts take over now, you'll hate yourself, and me too for taking advantage of you. I won't do that.”

Derek pulls back. “Maybe we should split up.”

“No.”

“You don't know how strong, how hard it is to fight this urge.”

“Are you telling me that I'm impossible to resist?” Stiles says teasingly.

Derek levels him with an unamused look. “I wouldn't go that far.”

“Good. Come on.”

They continue on down the tunnels. The walls start to rumble again.

Stiles pulls Derek into a small cavern, just as the tunnel caves in behind them, trapping them.

“We should use that weapon. It's worth the risk now,” Derek says.

“I might agree with you if I still had it. It's buried somewhere under all that,” Stiles says, nodding towards the caved in tunnel.

“What?”

“Sorry. Try to stay calm. I know it's hard.”

“You don't know anything. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. I need to do something. I can't take this.”

He pushes Stiles to the ground, straddling him.

Stiles pushes him off, standing up.

“You've never been hard to get, Stiles,” Derek said, rising to his feet.

“Well, I'm making an exception. I can't let you do this.”

“Oh, I bet you wish you could. All those invitations to dinner. And on the holodeck, the way you would stare at me when you thought I wasn't looking, and get jealous when I'm with someone else. You can't tell me you're not interested in me.”

“You're right. I can't,” Stiles admits.

“Then don't push me away,” Derek whispers, stepping closer to Stiles.

“Oh, believe me, I'd like to, but I know this isn't really you. You've made it clear that you're not interested, and I have to accept that's how you feel, even now.”

“No,” Derek said quietly. “No, it isn't… I was just afraid to admit it… I've wanted this for so long.”

He leans forward, bringing their lips together.

“Just let it happen,” Derek whispers as he pulls back from the kiss slightly.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Stiles walks him back until Derek’s back is pressed against the cavern wall. He slowly draws back from the kiss, his face still close to Derek’s and his voice barely more than a whisper as he says, “I hope someday you'll say that to me and mean it.”

Derek shoves him back, enraged. “You'd let me go insane rather than help me?”

“You know that's not true.”

“Just stay away from me,” Derek shouts, sinking down to the floor and curling up in the corner.

A little while later, Derek lifts his head, looking around. His voice is quiet, confused, as he asks, “Where are we?”

“Still stuck in the cave, I'm afraid,” Stiles tells him.

“The cave?” Derek tries to think. “The gallicite. Where's my tricorder?”

“We're not looking for the gallicite anymore. We're trying to get back to the ship, remember?” Stiles prompts, his voice soft and calming.

Derek looks even more confused. “No, I don't.”

There’s a loud crash as one of the large rocks falls away from the wall. Stiles steps away from Derek, helping whoever it is on the other side push aside the rocks.

Parrish’s face appears in the hole. “Are you two alright?”

“Derek needs help. We've got to get him out of here.”

Once they’re back on the surface, they try to contact the ship, but there’s no response.

“There must be some kind of communications problem. I'm sure they'll clear it up soon,” Parrish says.

Boyd looks at Derek. “It may not be soon enough. I am concerned about the rapid progression of his symptoms.” He looks at Stiles. “You must help him now, Mister Stilinski. If he does not resolve the Pon farr, he will die.”

Stiles lets out a sigh. Parrish and Boyd leave them alone. Stiles walks over to where Derek’s sitting, huddled near the entrance of the cave. He kneels before him.

“Derek, I know this is a pretty bizarre situation, probably not what either one of us had in mind, but it's too late to worry about that now.”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet.”

Derek takes Stiles’ hand and leads him into the underbrush. In a small clearing, Derek pulls Stiles close, brushing his face against Stiles’ wrist to feel his pulse before nuzzling his face into Stiles’ neck.

“Is this the part where you throw heavy objects at me?” Stiles says teasingly.

“Maybe later,” Derek mutters, his voice slurred as he loses himself in the moment.

“I'm not sure exactly what I'm supposed to do,” Stiles admits, but when Derek doesn’t respond, he mirrors Derek’s actions, taking Derek’s hand in his and brushing his lips against his wrist before burying his face in the curve of Derek’s neck, letting out a low, animalistic growl.

Derek throws Stiles to the ground, straddling him and pinning his hands above his head.

Stiles doesn’t resist.

Derek looks confused. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself?” Stiles replies.

“Then show it.”

Stiles smirks, flipping Derek on his back and pinning him to the ground. They roll around, struggling the way Klingons do when a branch snaps and a familiar voice shouts, “You are my mate, not his!”

“What are you doing here?” Derek shouts, glaring at Jennifer as he and Stiles rise to their feet. Stiles steadies Derek, the man weakened by the Pon farr.

“I've come to claim you, to fulfil our bond, and if necessary, to face my rival,” she says, glaring at Stiles.

Parrish and Boyd step into the clearing, following the sound of shouting.

“I declare Koon-ut-kal-if-fee,” Jennifer announces.

“The ritual challenge,” Boyd explains. “She intends to fight to win her mate.”

“You want a fight? You've got one,” Stiles challenged.

“Hold on, Stiles. There's not going to be any challenge,” Parrish says calmly, stepping between them. “Are you responsible for the ship being out of contact?” he asks Jennifer.

“It was necessary to disable the communications, transporters and shuttles,” she says. “No one will keep me from my mate.”

“I am not your mate!” Derek growls.

“We will soon decide that.”

“If anyone is going to smash your arrogant little face in, I will! I take your challenge myself.”

Parrish and Stiles look to Boyd.

“She has the right to choose her own defender, even herself,” he says. “Both must resolve their Pon farr before it kills them. I see no alternative but to follow Vulcan tradition.”

“Alright,” Parrish reluctantly agrees.

Derek and Jennifer fight. They’re evenly matched—throwing punches and kicks. The two fall to the ground, wrestling and struggling as they exchange blows until finally Jennifer collapses, unable to get up. Derek staggers back, completely disorientated. He falls into Stiles’ arms.

“Is it over?” Stiles asks, worried.

“The blood fever has been purged,” Boyd says. “It is over.”

Later, once Derek has recovered, they return to their duties. Derek is in the turbolift as the doors open for Stiles.

Stiles steps into the turbolift, the awkward tension filling the air.

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” Stiles says, trying to break the awkward silence. “Back on duty?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Derek says. “And yes. The warp coils should be good as new by the end of the week.

“Oh, good. Glad to hear it.” He pauses. “Computer, halt turbolift.”

The turbolift stops.

Stiles turns to Derek. “Look, this is ridiculous. We are going to be together on this ship for a long time.”

“You're right. We have to pretend that the whole thing didn't happen.”

“But something did happen, Derek.”

“Look, Stiles, I really appreciate what you did—what you were willing to do—for me. But as far as I'm concerned, I was under the influence of some weird Vulcan chemical imbalance, and, and whatever I did, whatever I said, it wasn't me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're afraid that your big, scary Klingon side might have been showing. Well, I saw it up close, and you know, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it again someday.” He turns away, hiding his smirk as he says, “Computer, resume.”

The turbolift slows. The doors open and Derek steps out.

“Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant,” he says over his shoulder, leaving Stiles stunned as the turbolift doors close.

#long post #seriously long post #text post #sterek #sterek au #sterek star trek au #sterek star trek: voyager au #sterek star trek voyager au #sterek voyager au #the perfect enemies to friends to lovers #with a whole lot of smut #i want to write this so hard #sterek imagine #imagine sterek

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du0tine · 3 years

Text

well, fuck.

this isn’t great. frankly its horrible.

it’s never fun being suspended so high in the air with the harsh winds blowing roughly in your direction forcing you to seek shelter against the icy and snowy mixture of rock that sits atop the towering mountain.

to be honest, had it been any other day this would’ve been thrilling. being up here in harsh conditions, struggling to hold on and testing my mental and physical capabilities would’ve been so much fucking fun.

but there are days where you just imagine the rope that holds you up so high, snapping and slicing against a sharp piece of rock as you plummet to your death. the sky is the last thing you see, the butterflies in your stomach going mad from the sudden drop and you can’t help but think, “im going to die.”

most people, in this case: climbers that is, don’t want to die. they understand the risks, they know that given what they do things are bound to happen and im someone who understands that concept very well. but some of us are just so desensitized to the point that death feels like nothing, we’re used to losing team mates, friends and lovers. i just didn’t understand why i wanted for it to happen to me so much.

climbing is a large part of my life amongst other things; friends, family and other significant factors. all pieces both large and small that factor into what i call my life, something that i can’t help but be grateful for. but sometimes i realize life is fleeting. i realize just how short it is and sometimes i realize that, you know what? im okay with dying. whether it be today, tomorrow or the day after, i understand that death is inevitable and sometimes i just yearn for it to happen a little faster.

it often comes and goes, starting with tears and ending with cold, blank and rather monotone eyes gazing into the emptiness. i don’t know what it feels like exactly, the physicality is easy to understand but when i have to put into words its too hard. but it feel freezing cold, isolation hurts, solitude is pain. im all alone with nothing and no one and in fact, i do think im alone despite everything.

i just know im alone.

i have so many people in my life but it’s hard for me to understand why they’re here, it becomes difficult for me to keep them in my life. i find it hard to continue to speak with lifelong friends, keep in touch with cousins and other family. my parents and siblings (my brothers only being 3 & 5) being the only people i can speak to without feeling so choked up.

i speak to people ive met here (tumblr) but it never goes past a few conversations that occur from time to time and to those i do talk consistently with i can’t help but feel like i annoy. sometimes people reach out to me for advice, for guidance and of course, i aid them. it only pains me a little to never be asked if im okay in return but whatever right? as long as the people are happy, then im happy.

here in nepal, it’s been nice. people are nice. the way of life is one that no one takes for granted and it makes me feel out of place, like a spoiled brat who just yearns so much to escape but i try my best to just take a deep breath and indulge. the buddhist culture here makes me understand the ways of life, living alongside other climbers and watching sherpas dance to the tune of death, twisting around and just barely sneaking past almost every time.

despite how beautiful it is with the towering peaks, glaciers and fields of luscious green grass. death holds a strong presence here, one that’s covered by the tourism and clusters of climbers. but one that’s never ignored, everything being worshipped. pooja ceremonies being held for safe journeys and honouring the beautiful land, the mother of it all with offerings. mother nature is honoured and yet, she still plucks us one by one.

last year on my winter expedition i met a boy, well a man. someone who was 12 years older than me, someone i grew to have feelings for that in fact were reciprocated. despite seeming inappropriate, it was all consensual, it was positive and perfect. there was no dirty intention behind it and despite the large age gap it quickly flourished into a sweet, relationship but i found myself growing distant.

we were both sponsored by the same company which is how we met, the both of us being skiers and climbers. people who understood the dangers of venturing out into the wild, knowing what it meant to leave it all behind and pursue your wildest dreams.

he was perfect for me and yet, i broke up with him while living in nepal. i didn’t know why i did at first and it took me a lot of thinking. a lot of time being alone and realizing that throughout my whole life id been accustomed to supporting myself, knowing that there was no one else for me but me. perhaps it was the mixture of dreadful trauma id faced when i was younger, things i never told anyone, things that i only now realize just how bad they were.

regardless, the past is the past and i know i can’t let it hold me down and yet it’s just so hard to keep living when you know just how gravely you’ve been damaged. but i always tell myself that there’s someone out there who’s got it worse, someone who hasn’t stopped suffering from the day they’ve been brought into this world and until this very day.

like them i also wander the earth and yet i have an advantage, one that i should never take for granted and that being that everything that had happened, is over. i shouldn’t let it bring me down and ruin all the good things i have now.

so anyways, what lead to me ultimately breaking down was when i found myself like i mentioned before climbing upwards, fifteen pitches ahead in the air with my team around me. belayed upwards as i find myself freezing momentarily when the snow from above comes falling down, raining down on me as the wind whips me in the face.

it felt so cold, i couldn’t help but press my forehead against the wall and look downwards at my dangling feet. my hands were numb, my ice pick wedged into the snow and ice, my toes just barely warm. i just found myself observing how far away the ground was from where i hung. the distance from where i spiralled about to the ground was like how disconnected i felt from the earth. physically i am here but mentally im lost. where am i? i don’t know, maybe ill know someday? but what if i just don’t try anymore and let it all go, the place im in isn’t a bad place to die in fact, it’s beautiful.

but i can’t let myself plummet to the ground in front of people i know, i can’t traumatize them. i can’t be selfish and hurt others, id already done it once and that was to the man i loved.

pushing forwards we finished climbing, taking in the air at the top and looking down at everything. feeling like we were in fact on top of the world when really this was only one of the peaks we decided to acclimatize to in preparation for the everest/lhotse push that would happen in the next two months.

the feeling was the same as always, a feeling of satisfaction. you feel unstoppable at the top of the mountain, like there’s nothing and no one in your path and yet for the first time i felt anxious.

i felt like i was going to throw up. it didn’t feel great to be up here, i didn’t know why at that moment but when we began rappelling downwards i couldn’t help but think about how cold hearted i was for breaking up with him. there was no reason for me to do so and yet, i just did. it wasn’t right and it took me sometime to realize why. i needed to make sure i could at least put in the effort to do something.

the trek back to base camp was agonizing. i felt like i couldn’t breath properly, falling out of tune with my surroundings and just marching forwards. my team looking like blobs of colourful parkas. silently i felt myself weeping and just feeling like shit. i hated this.

it was embarrassing, i always made sure to peel myself apart and cry when there was no one around and yet here i was crying with people i knew and got to know around me. one of my leaders, who was a single mom that was a total badass in the mountains and one of the best ski mountaineer ive met (she’s also my team lead) spotted me falling apart and staggered behind to talk things out with me and i began to find comfort in consolidating in someone.

this was something i never even did with my own mother. this was the first time i looked for guidance in someone who’d lived longer than me and understood how grief, sadness and just a clusterfuck of emotions works.

with every step i took i slowly pieced the answers i needed for my puzzle piece and now here i am sitting inside my tent typing this foolish rant. my fingers lingering over the call button of the contact id for my ex boyfriend.

i think ill call him and apologize.

it’ll be a good first step.

update: things have been solved (relationship wise) but i don’t feel too good mentally nor physically. unfortunately, i received heartbreaking news that my bestfriend passed away and i feel lost. i don’t know what’s going on, what’s going to happen and i just feel guilty and pathetic. despite that comment, the less people see this the better, it’s not good energy and it’s just negatively going to affect others but i can’t dip without an explanation.

things are on a queue.

#tw: death #tw: sad shit me being a wimp.#i don’t know what else - i don’t know anything else.#mostly me opening up so yeah sorry if this drives people away.#felt like i needed to get it out so don’t read this.#will probably delete later? i don’t know.#my head hurts and im going to nap soon just need to clear my thoughts and relax.#if the words don’t add up it’s because im tired and cant see straight.#peace.

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Answer: Love Myself | The Pact (4) FINALE

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: It was simple. If you weren’t married by 26, you’d get married to each other. Well, it was supposed to be simple.

Warnings: N/A

Genre: ANGST, Fluff???, Non-Idol!Au, Business!Au-ish

Word Count: 2.4k Words

A/N: Thank you for sticking around to read this series. The support was absolutely amazing and I hope you enjoy this last part! Stay safe everyone and remember to love yourself.

Other:

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

A meaningless exchange of words. That’s all this was. Jennie was sitting across from you at the park, Taehyung next to her. His arm was wrapped protectively around her shoulder. You resisted the urge to graze your shoulder with your hand; if only to mimic the contact.

“So I said to her, ‘Miss, you have a little something right here.’” He pointed to his cheek. “But-”

Jennie cut in, finishing the story she’d heard a million times before. “-But then she stared incredulously at him and pointed to his hair, which was also covered in the dye.” She chuckled as Taehyung looked shocked.

“You remembered that story?!” He cried.

“Of course I did, silly.” The girl poked his cheek. You smiled at them, they looked like they got along better now. Maybe this was how it always was before you came around.

“I wish you would have told me that before I repeated myself a thousand times.” He grumbled, playing with her hair in his fingers.

You were happy for them. Truly happy. Taehyung glanced at you, something in his eyes wavering. His gaze flicked between the two of you, but only one was sitting under his arm, beside him. Jennie and you had found a way to get along somehow in the past few days and you could tell Taehyung was happy you were friends now.

“Ah, I remember those color wars.” You added, trying to find some way to contribute to the banter. Instead, it did the opposite. The two were obviously pulled away from their little world and you cursed yourself for interrupting. The relationship between you and the two of them would have been normal if it wasn’t for that pact.

“Right, because you always lost.” Taehyung teased, a small smile on his face. Even Jennie shot you a smile. It felt more sympathetic, maybe pitying, than genuine. It made your face heat up. Desperate for love and attention, yes, but you weren’t one for going after something you couldn’t have.

“Yah! That’s a bit harsh.” You cried. Taehyung laughed loudly, hand rubbing Jennie’s arm. “I think I won color wars at least once.” You pouted.

“At my school, the same grade always won the dye round because the student council favored them.” Jennie rolled her eyes. “We never got as much dye as them.”

“Or maybe you were just bad at conserving the dye.” Taehyung chided, booping her nose. Her features twisted to a frown, eyes looking up at him.

“How dare you accuse me of such an atrocity! I blame the system!” Jennie declared. The two giggle. You’re happy for them. You’re happy for Taehyung. No matter how much you long for his touch, or anyone’s touch in fact. This outing was overshadowed by the bitterness approaching around the corner. Tomorrow. Tomorrow The Pact’s anniversary would take place and you were sure he had dropped it by now. You and Jennie had come to a conclusion, but it was clear Taehyung had not.

Taehyung watched you carefully out of the corner of his eyes. You looked much more confident than when you first met. You had grown into a beautiful and charming woman. He wanted to want you, but his heart beat with another. Still, he was a man of his word. He would propose to you. That’s what you wanted, right? If you had asked him if he wanted to marry you a week ago, he would have said yes. But things had been getting better between Jennie and him. He was torn.

He was noticing things about Jennie that he’d been blind to before. Her smile, how she waited for him when he got home from work, the way she caressed his cheek. How painful it must have been to see him slipping away. Two years. He looked over to the woman beside him. He had been with her for two years, that must mean something. Maybe it took you blatantly rejecting him for him to get his head out of his ass. He chuckled at the thought, to the confusion of the two women in his company. They were blissfully unaware of his inner struggle.

Is this the right decision? You found yourself thinking. You could still get lost in his gaze, you could still long for his fingertips against your skin, but it was different. Your heart didn’t flutter seeing him. You found yourself becoming truly happy for him, pushing away jealousy and resentment. You could forgive him for those words 10 years ago. A smart girl like you shouldn’t have agreed to such a foolish thing. Now you found yourself smiling at the words. They felt like a distant dream. You watched the two snuggle close and you couldn’t help thinking that they fit each other perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Why would you even dream of ripping them apart?

The day had come. Taehyung had invited you out and you stood at the curb outside your apartment, waiting. Your heart was beating, but not out of nerves. No, you were actually feeling ill. You didn’t want to go through with this. When you had asked him where you were going, he had winked and said ‘it’s a surprise’.

You froze as he pulled up to the curb. It was just him, his car, and a nice suit. You gulped, glancing down at your attire. With a deep breath, you knew what you needed to do. You smiled and walked to his car. He jumped out and rushed to the other side, opening the door for you. The warmth of his hand on your back made you shiver as he helped you in.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it.” He rambled as he drove.

“Hah, well, I didn’t have much else to do.” Your eyes flickered over to him for a moment before looking back out at the streetlights that whizzed by. In truth, you had cleared your schedule for this day ages ago. However, you had expected the day to be joyous.

Now, you had a pit of guilt in your gut. You have to go through with it. He seems so excited, Y/N. Then you remembered your words to Jennie. I won’t take him away from you. You swallowed thickly as you pulled up to your old school. Your mouth went dry. You knew what he was doing and you almost didn’t need him to lead you around the side and to the gardens.

Your school was always nicer than most. You recognized the faded classroom numbers and pristine halls. In the back was a small garden and in that small garden was a grove. In that grove was a stone bench and a cherry tree. He took your hand, swinging it as if you were a couple.

“You recognize this place, right?”

You nodded slowly, gnawing at your bottom lip. Regret filled you to the brim.

“This is the place where we-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to finish the sentence. He looked hesitantly at you before nodding.

“Yeah…” He looked over at the bench. You could see it clear as day. Your 15 year old self sitting next to him, a laptop in hand. You’re laughing, he’s smiling. It’s happy. Then you’re brought to the present. You stood side by side, not a couple, but soon to be engaged.

“It’s been a while.” You murmured. “Listen I-” You turned to him but he grasped both of your hands, making your heart stop. He still had that effect on you. You could almost lose yourself in this moment, pretend he was yours, that you could kiss those lips, hold these hands, without guilt.

He took a deep breath and you trail off, not wanting to interrupt him. Was he going to go through with this? His gaze seemed distant and his brow furrowed for a moment, as if having an internal war. Finally, he stepped back.

“Y/N. I have loved you for 10 years. 10 years and I haven’t stopped. You and I are right for each other.” Despite his words, He looked so uncertain, unlike the dead gaze he gave you in the library. That night seemed like it was ages ago. You wanted to stop him, to tell him this was a mistake, but he continued. “Let’s make good on this pact, love.”

He reached into his suit pocket and opened the velvet ring box and bent on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

You walked down the aisle, a pretty arrangement of flowers in your hands, Jennie had helped you pick them out and you had been surprised by her generosity. You looked beautiful, hair in an updo, arm linked with a man. You smiled at Taehyung and he gazed back at you. You were sure you could see him tear up, but you played it off as the lighting. You nodded reassuringly at him, then you looked up at the high arching ceiling. The wedding bells chimed. Friends and family surrounded you. But they weren’t your friends and family. You took a right. The man holding your arm wasn’t your father and your father wasn’t here to give you away.

You part ways with the groomsman and take your place across the way from Taehyung. He didn’t spare you a glance, instead looking eagerly from where you came from. Then you turn, taking a deep breath, to watch the bride walk down the aisle. All rise. You smiled genuinely at Jennie. She looked overjoyed, even her father didn’t seem that bothered.

Watching Taehyung be truly happy had been the most fulfilling thing you’d watched in a while. Your heart tugged painfully as the two exchanged their vows, but you still cried with joy when they kissed. Moving on had been hard, but we all grow up someday. Taehyung peered over the bride’s shoulder as the crowd cheered. He winked and then held Jennie’s hand, giving her a look of unadulterated love.

One month ago

“No.”

He quirked his head to the side, confusion flashing across his face. He didn’t rise, as if staying on one knee could convince you more. You smiled softly and stepped forward, falling to your knees in front of him and taking his hands in yours. You gently caressed his hands and closed the box.

“This is meant for someone else, Taehyung.”

“W-who?”

“You know who.” Your voice is gentle, aching to take him in your arms, to scream yes. One tear. Then another. You watched him slowly unravel in front of you.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you so long. I just hoped you would love me the same way, but when we met, I knew, I knew you had changed. I have changed. And I missed her, Y/N. She was right in front of me. I was so caught up in you, Y/N.”

You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing. Your hands fell into your lap, feeling remorseful, but you also had the urge to make things right.

“I love you, but...but I love her more than just a friend. And I don’t want to lose her.” He confessed.

Your heart broke, only focused on this man, Taehyung, your best friend, sobbing in front of you. You threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly, letting his tears stain your dress. You rubbed his back, then pulled away once his tears had subsided to sniffles. You looked him the eye, determination coloring your face.

“Then go to her.”

Present

You stood in front of the mirror. Your eyes ran over your bug bites scars, skin discoloration, body fat. With a smile, you found yourself rubbing over your features gladly. This was you. This was who you were, this body, this skin, this face. You no longer scrutinized yourself, instead finding yourself loving the person in front of you. She was confident, sure of herself, and...and she loved herself. You stared. Was this really you?

You had been waiting for so long, just praying for someone to complete you, to love the faults in yourself. You had been waiting for yourself. You were the missing piece. After all, how can you love someone else if you can’t love yourself?

A grin broke out onto your face and you were sure if anyone else was here you would seem like a maniac. You hugged your arms, complimenting your appearance. Those scars were yours. That discoloration showed you spent time outside, enjoying your life. The fat meant you ate well, that you were healthy. Acceptance felt nice.

You brushed your hands through your hair, trying to contain the frizz that came with humidity combined with wind. The wedding was certainly taking place on a hot night. You could feel yourself sweating as you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Y/N!” Jennie shouted, immediately noticing you. She drew you into a hug. “I’m so grateful to you. You know, you came at just the right time.” The two of you weren’t worried about talking about what happened, now it was more of a joke.

You were basically inseparable now, becoming close friends with the couple. It was silly to think you ever had a feud as heated as it seemed. Taehyung had laughed and told you guys that he had always thought the feud was unnecessary. That had earned two wary stares from the both of you. ‘You can’t blame me! You had me worried there for a bit.’ Jennie had pouted, earning a kiss from Taehyung and a laugh from you.

“Ah, it’s no problem, call it fate.” You winked.

“I mean, I spent so much time thinking I was being a fool for loving him, knowing he must love someone else.” She rambled and her eyes fell ever so slightly. You brushed your fingers under her chin, making her look up from her downcast eyes on the floor.

“A bride shouldn’t look so down on her wedding day. And you were never foolish for thinking that. A smart girl doesn’t do foolish things, love.” You smiled at her.

You watched her eyes brighten and she rushed off to talk to her other friends. Your eyes slid over to Taehyung, sitting alone at the wedding table. You missed his smile. You missed his eyes. But you knew that this was right. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Movie night, next Saturday? - Taehyung

You chuckled, making eye contact with him.

Pay attention to your wife.

But She’s busy with her friends and I’m alone at the wedding table.

Yeah?

You saw him scoff, almost heard it too. You had heard his voice so many times, it didn’t matter that the music was pounding in your ears.

So is it a deal?

You rolled your eyes, suddenly reminded of when you first made the pact. Deal? Deal. A shaking of hands. Now you looked up at him, a small smile on your face.

Deal

Curtain fall, end scene.

Taglist: @tangledsparkles @rjsmochii @bonnyskies @imluckybitches

A/N: Thank you for sticking around! Love yourself!!

#bts #bts x reader #taehyung #taehyung x reader #angst #fluff #The Pact #tatawrites #non idol au #business!au #Kim Taehyung

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inuyashasforest · 4 years

Text

Someday (I love you in present tense)

I miss you folks! Here’s a little drabble I wanted to share while I work on other things, something short and bittersweet. Hope you enjoy ♥

It’s the last good night before everything goes to hell. Not that they know it at the time. They don’t know sitting around the fire that evening as the sun’s colour drains from the sky, that this is the last night they’ll have with none of the injured, ill, stressed or scared. They’re closing in on Naraku, the threads are all pulling together, but they don’t know that.

Tonight is just a good night.

They’ve set up camp on the banks of a slow river, the water passing in a calm stream, the surface glassy, reflecting starlight and the glow of the fire. They caught fish, and even managed to get some rice and vegetables from the last village they helped – practically a feast. The five of them sit around the fire, bellies full and bodies relaxed from the day’s travelling. Shippo is curled up, asleep on Kirara’s larger form, burrowed into her long fur. Kirara purrs, a soft rumbling, as she snoozes by the fire, every bit as lazy and content as a housecat.

Sango is telling them a story about the first time she rode on Kirara as a young girl, how excited she’d been to finally fly with her family’s guardian. Kirara had been a constant companion and protector since she was a baby, and so young Sango had been entirely comfortable with her – and maybe a little too confident. She hadn’t been more than 8 years old at the time, and had practically jumped onto Kirara’s back, boasting to her father how she would master this on her first try, that of course Kirara would obey her. Kirara had taken it upon herself to put some humility in the overzealous young girl and had proceeded to fly so wildly that Sango was just barely holding on by a fistful of fur. On a harsh flip, Sango’s grip had failed and she’d started falling. Kirara had caught with ease, and gently returned her to the ground, before turning and flicking her tails in the girl’s face just for good measure. It’d been a lesson Sango never forgot.

And as she tells the story to her friends around the fire that night, all of them laughing along and jeering at her, Sango is bright and at ease. She rarely indulges the others in stories from her childhood, memories of her family often still too fresh and painful to recount. But tonight is a good night. So, she does. Kirara cracks an eye open and chuffs, gently flicking one of her tails in Sango’s face just to tease, before letting out a roaring yawn and napping again.

Miroku is staring at her all the while like her laughter alone could put a hault to the rampant wars. He has his arm around her, behaving himself, and she’d leaning comfortably against his side. Across the fire, Inuyasha as leaning back against a tree trunk in his usual cross-legged-arms-folded position, but even he has a relaxed posture. Kagome is sprawled out on her sleeping back, laying on her stomach with her pillow under her chest as she laughs along with Sango.

“I miss that,” Sango says with a content sigh as she snuggles in further against Miroku, who is all too happy to oblige. “Not the falling part, but just… flying with her. Just for the sake of it. On nights like these, we used to fly up to the mountains just to sit on the top and look at the stars. It was always so clear up there.”

“It’s not like there’s anything stopping you,” Inuyasha grunts from across the fire, though there is no noticeable malice in his tone. Even his voice is gentle in the quiet of the night. “Why don’t you just go back? Even just for a night.”

But Sango shakes her head. “No, there’s just been no chance to lately. And with how active the demon presence has been across the land… it’d be more trouble than it’s worth for such a silly little thing.”

“It’s not silly,” Kagome says earnestly. “It obviously means a lot to you.”

Sango offers her a smile. “Someday,” she says. “Someday I’ll go back, but not until our task is completed. Then, I’ll go up to the mountains near the Taijiya Village as often as Kirara and I want, and watch the stars. It’s like no other view in the world up there. On clear nights, you can see all the way to the ocean, and every single star moving across the sky.” Tilting her head back, she beams up at Miroku. “I’d love to take you up there.”

“I’d love nothing more to go with you,” Miroku smiles back, rubbing his hand up and down her forearm. The sky is clear tonight, but there were wisps of clouds floating across the stars, and the trees are tall and full. Beautiful, nonetheless. Miroku’s expression turns pensive. “It won’t be too long now,” he says, speaking aloud what everyone is thinking. One way or another, this will all be over soon, and none of them can predict what will happen, how and if they will all come out. They all know this – but Miroku doesn’t say that. Instead, he holds Sango a little closer. “When it is,” he says, “I would like to return to Mushin’s temple for a while. I will have much to be thankful for, and even more to pray for,” Miroku adds with a light, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Monk,” Sango nudges him with her elbow.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Miroku surrenders with a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to stay for too long, though. Somehow, I cannot imagine living anywhere but in Kaede’s village.”

Sango’s smile only brightens at that idea, and the implications of it. “Neither can I.”

“That does sound nice,” Kagome sighs happily. She rolls onto her back, stretching her arms over her head and closing her eyes. The soft heat of the fire warms her skin, but the midnight breeze is cool and refreshing. “Once this is all over, I’ll finally have a chance to catch up on my school work. Maybe I’ll still be able to get into a good high school. But I’ll be honest,” she trails off for a moment, opening her eyes to stare up at the sky, “I think I’d just be… bored. After everything I’ve seen and done here, the thought of going back to a normal life just seems dull.”

“It sounds safe,” Inuyasha corrected, casting a glare down at her.

Kagome cracks an upside-down smile at him, reaching up to poke him in the thigh. “Same thing.”

Inuyasha scoffs but doesn’t say another word.

“Well,” Kagome shrugs, folding her arms under her head, long black hair spilling over her pillow, “hopefully, the Bone Eater’s Well will still let me through… I would miss you all too much. I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet.” Ever the optimist, Kagome smiled to herself and watched a cloud drift lazily across the full, bright moon. “But… at least it’ll all be over. The jewel will be whole, and Naraku won’t be able to hurt anyone else. A lot of people will be safe. If nothing else, that’s enough for me.”

“You’ve grown so much since we first started travelling, Lady Kagome,” Miroku says.

Kagome turns her head towards him and flashes a cheeky smile from across the fire. “Why, thank you for noticing,” she nods her head.

Sango lifts her hand to her mouth as she laughs, before looking to their only companion who hadn’t yet shared. “What about you, Inuyasha?” she asks. “What do you look forward to, when this is all over?”

But Inuyasha doesn’t reply. His arms seem to be held a little tighter across his chest, and his gaze into the fire is unwavering. The firelight makes the gold of his eyes glow brighter.

Sango frowns, thinking that he hadn’t heard her. “Inuyasha?”

“It’s late,” Inuyasha cuts her off abruptly. Feigning nonchalance, he stretches his arms behind his back and rises to his feet. His movements are sharp, his voice forced. “We have a long way to go tomorrow. Get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.” With that, he turns and walks off toward the river bank.

The other three exchange looks – there is no mistaking it, they all know that Inuyasha had avoided the question. Still, he’s already stalked away, and it isn’t worth prodding. So, they gradually turn in for the night, letting the fire burn down as they settle down to rest. Inuyasha is right, they do have a long journey ahead of them, and it is already well into the night. Miroku and Sango end up asleep together, wrapped up loosely in each other’s arms as they recline against Kirara. Kagome, for her part, does drift off after snuggling down into her sleeping bag, perfectly comfortable and sleepy.

But she isn’t asleep for long. Or, at least, it doesn’t feel like long. It seems like she’d only closed her eyes for a second when she opens them to find the fire nothing but a pile of slowing embers. She yawns, turning over and sitting upright. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust in the dark. Miroku and Sango are still sleeping, Kirara and Shippo as well. But Inuyasha is nowhere to be seen.

Not at first, anyway. As Kagome turns toward the river, she sees the outline of him, sitting at the edge of the water, illuminated by the bright moonlight shining off the river like a mirror. Slowly crawling out of her sleeping back, she stands and walks toward him.

He knows she’s approaching, though he makes no acknowledgement. Kagome can see his ears twitching in her direction. Kneeling down beside him, she lays her hand on his back and leans forward to see his face.

“Inuyasha?” she whispers. “Are you…”

She doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to, she already knows the answer. Inuyasha looks back at her, and for the first time she’s ever seen, he looks… unsure of himself. Scared, almost, but that isn’t quite the right word. He looks lost.

That’s all it takes. Kagome understands. This is the look of a boy who never expected to get this far. Who never thought about a future beyond his short term goals, because he’d never figured there was a point. What had once been so clear to him was now… well, nothing close to what he’d thought it’d be. Inuyasha once believed that possessing the Sacred Jewel would solve all of his problems, that all he needed was to be a full blooded demon, and then everything would be okay – but at that time, he’d never actually thought through how that would work. He never thought about what he would do after.

And now that Inuyasha knows that becoming a full demon isn’t what he wants, his singular focus has been destroying Naraku. Everything will be fine after that, surely. But the part that comes after is somehow more unclear now that it’s ever been. Inuyasha doesn’t know how to deal with even the hope of a future he never thought he would have.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away when Kagome stares back at him, slipping her hand up to cradle his cheek. Maybe it’s just her imagination, but she can almost feel him lean into her palm.

Kagome does not say a word. She crawls into his lap, sitting between his legs and leaning back against his shoulder. Gently taking his arms, she guides them around her waist, and holds them there, holding her hands on top of his.

They really are an odd pair, Kagome things as her eyes shut. A girl who didn’t belong in the past, and a boy who didn’t have a future. Maybe that was why the present meant so much to her. Whatever happened next, they had right now. They had this moment, this night. If they held onto that, maybe the future wouldn’t have to be so daunting.

Eventually, Kagome feels her body grow heavy, falling asleep safe and content in Inuyasha’s arms. And, it may just be her imagination, but she can swear she feels Inuyasha press his lips against her head just moments before she drifts off.

#inuyasha #inukag #mirsan #inuyasha fanfic #Kagome Higurashi #sango #miroku

187 notes · View notes

tragically-broken · 4 years

Text

Coffee Stains pt. 7

Ship(s): Feysand, Nessian, Elriel Type: College AU Word Count: 1,161

Hi everyone! I started this fic back in 2016 (for those of you who have been with me since then HELLO & I LOVE YOU!), but I didn’t finish right away ofc so then it got lost! I was so upset. I found what I could on my computer and then re-wrote some and started an ao3 account. However, since then my bestie was able to recover my work and get my tumblr account back to working again! YAY!

If you prefer to read on ao3 my link is here! Everything is the same except the name of this story is “Falling Apart or Falling Into Place” and chapter 4 is a bit different since I re-wrote it thinking it was lost. The ao3 account also has all my other fics that I have started OR you can find them on this tumblr master-post here.

I’m using this quarantine to prove to myself that I can actually finish something I started and then get back to working on my own WIP.

ENJOY <3

pts. 1-6

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Az brought Elain to a restaurant she had never been to or even heard of before. It was small and quaint inside, giving off a sense of warmth. The dark wood walls and flooring made it feel like a homie little cabin instead of a public eating area. The waitress seated them in the back corner booth as requested from Az and she couldn’t help but notice how at home Az looked. It was almost like looking at a younger version of him from the past. How he would have looked before life tried to tear him down with trauma and misfortune. She didn’t know too much about his past because Az was an extremely private person, but what she did know was bad enough. She hated to imagine the things he left private and kept to himself. Elain and Az grazed the menu in comfortable silence. Everything here sounded delicious.

“I didn’t have much of anything growing up” Elain looked up at Az surprised at his sudden words. “ and what I did have was normally shared. As you know, I didn’t have much of a family but Rhy’s mom brought me here for my 16th birthday. It was the nicest place she could afford and the nicest place I had ever been to. I haven’t been back here since she passed.” Az paused for a moment, thinking about her. “ I never thought I would come back actually. But, these past few days I’ve missed her more than usual. She was a tough old broad, but she loved fiercely and treated me as her own. I drove Rhys crazy.” Az chuckled at the memory. “They were-are my family, and tonight is the first night that I’ve wanted to share this place with someone else.” Az looked at her then, menu long forgotten. Elain reached across the table for his hand. Az wasn’t much for physical touch but he let her hold his scarred hand in her delicate soft one.

“I love it here.” Elain looked deep into his eyes.

“You don't have to say that”

“No, I mean it. It has a wonderful character and you can tell that it's small, but it's cherished. Plus, everything on the menu looks delicious. Do you remember what you ordered on your birthday?”

“I could never forget, Lemon Noodle Soup.” Elain lightly rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.

“Really? I never begged you for a soup person.”

“I wasn’t- still not. But it was the cheapest thing on the menu. But don’t you worry about that, you can get whatever you want of course. My treat.”

“Good evening!” The waitress startled them out of their trance as Elain let go of his hand. “My name is Beverly and I’ll be your server this evening.”

“Thank you, Beverly.” Az gave her a polite smile.

“Do you two still need a moment? Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I’ll have the Lemon Noodle Soup,” Elain said matter-of-factly as Az whipped his head toward her.

“Elain you don’t need to-”

“That’s what I want.” Elain smiled at him as she closed her menu. He looked at her, with shocked awe.

“I’ll have the same.” He closed his menu unable to take his eyes off her. The waitress scribbled their order on her notepad.

“And to drink?”

“Chardonnay please, is that okay with you?”

“And a glass of water”

“Of course, everything will be out shortly.” The waitress walked away with their menus in hand.

“I doubt you had chardonnay when you were sixteen!”

“Rhys actually snuck scotch from the kitchen as we left and we drank it that night while mom was asleep. We pretended to like it of course, even as we coughed from it. There was a brief moment of hysterics and then deep sleep. It was- well wonderful. One of my favorite memories.”

“I’d like to meet him someday.”

“I’d like that too.”

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“Are you fucking serious?” Nesta stood with her arms crossed on the sidewalk.

“You said you wanted the best burgers in town! Well, this is it, sweetheart.” Cassian dramatically gestured to the run-down old cart.

“A single cart in the middle of the road isn’t exactly what I had in mind. It doesn’t even look structurally sound.”

“Live a little won't you Nesta?” Cassian nudged her shoulder playfully.

Nesta scoffed, brushing him off, but gave in.

“Let’s get this over with. I’m hungry.”

“That's the spirit!” Cassian excitedly marched in front of her.

“If I die from food poisoning, I'm using my afterlife to haunt you.”

“As long as you promise to visit me at night.” Nesta smacked him in the arm, hard.

“NASTY BASTARD!!” Cassian chuckled as they moved up the line.

“Good evening Sir, I’ll have a number 2 meal with a rootbeer and- do you trust me?”

“Not even a little. I’ll have the number 1 special with extra mushrooms and pepper jack cheese instead of cheddar and extra pickles on the side.”

“And to drink?”

“Do you serve alcohol”

“No, sorry ma'am”

“I suppose I’ll suffer the company sober.” She eyed Cassian up and down with distaste.

“There's a bar two blocks from here if you'd like.”

“Best not to prolong this evening.” Nesta nodded her thanks and walked away from the cashier as Cassian faked pain in his chest.

They waited for their food as Nesta shifted from foot to foot, cold.

“Are you cold?”

“No, I'm fine.” Lie.

“You sure because-” Cassian started to remove his jacket.

“I’m FINE.”

He put his hands up in defeat and kept his jacket on.

Once they got their food they found a table next to the pier. She couldn’t deny how beautiful the view was, even if she did have to share it with a stray dog.

Nesta took one bite and her entire expression changed.

“Holy mother of-” she took another huge bite as Cassian bellowed a laugh

“I told you” He chuckled at her with his own mouth full.

“They need a real restaurant.”

“Maybe,” Cassian wiped his mouth. “ but this is less expensive and it clearly isn’t hurting business. And who could beat this view?”

“I suppose.” Nesta took another ginormous bite out of her burger. Cassian smiled to himself watching her eat with such pleasure. How food was meant to be eaten.

“What?” Nesta asked, mouth full.

“Hm? Nothing.” Cassian went back to focusing on his burger.

“Don’t be gross.”

“WHAT? I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING”

“You didn’t have to.” Nesta glared at him.

“I just- never mind.”

“This better?” Nesta sarcastically put her pinkies up as she took another huge bite.

“Perfect form m’ lady.” Cassian bowed his head and mirrored her pinky posture.

Nesta laughed, actually LAUGHED.

“Careful Nesta or I might think you’re having a good time.”

“Impossible.”

“MMHM.” Cassian smiled to himself as he finished his burger.

Clearly being hungry made her lose her senses because she was actually having a wonderful time. She must be ill.

________________________________________________________________

Let me know what you think! <3

#nessian #feysand #elriel #nessian fic #feysand fic #elriel fic #sjm #college AU #eventual smut #sjm fic #archeron sisters

23 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 1 Wake Up Call

Or read it on AO3

Summary: It’s been years since Luka’s spoken to his old friend Adrien. Of course he knew about the divorce--it was big news when the golden boy of fashion split with his wife and head designer, but Luka’s had his own problems to worry about. He doesn’t think much about it when Adrien brings his son Louis in for music lessons, until he meet’s Louis’ mother and Adrien’s ex-wife, Marinette. Suddenly his life is a whole lot more interesting, and a whole lot more complicated.

No powers, aged-up Lukanette, past Adrienette

Rating/Warnings: Rated M, later chapters will include implied sexual content (nothing explicit happens on screen), TW for death of family members, grieving, depression, divorce

Author’s note: I’ve been really excited about this project and I’m super excited to finally start sharing it with you. It’s a little heavier than my other work, but still lots of fluff and romance, so I hope you’ll enjoy it.

“Hey, Luka, it’s been a long time.”

“It has, Adrien. I hope you’ve been well.”

“Well, I’m...I’m getting along. I can’t really say better than that. I mean, I’m sure you heard, it was a media circus. This whole thing is...not what I wanted, to say the least.”

“Yeah. How’s the kid handling it?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t think he’s doing all that well but he just clams up and won’t talk to anyone. And last time he was here, he didn’t want to touch the piano at all. His mother said it’s the same at her place. His current instructor is a good teacher but he doesn’t have the patience to deal with Louis right now. I know you’re busy but I was hoping you could fit Louis in your schedule. If there’s anyone who can draw his passion for music back out, it’s you.”

“Mmm. I want to help, Adrien, but I do have a full roster of students right now, I’m just not sure if—“

“Pick two of your lower income students. I’ll sponsor them for as long as Louis is taking lessons with you.”

“Man, you know I hate it when you throw money at problems like it’s the cure for all ills.”

“I do, but I’m desperate and I know it’ll work this time.”

“Ugh...I do have some talented students that could really use that support. All right, I’ll find a way to fit him in. Although honestly, Adrien, I probably would have done it anyway.”

“Thanks, Luka. Let me know when and where, and we’ll make time in his schedule to get him there.”

***

Luka looked over his newest student and concluded that he must take after his mother, since he didn’t look much like Adrien at all. His hair was dark and his eyes, while still green, had more blue in them than Adrien’s did. He had a little more of Adrien in the chin and the nose, but his build was lean and slender. He was a smart kid, too, looking Luka over with the same scrutiny, taking in Luka’s blue-tipped hair, the black turtleneck and black jeans, eyes lingering on the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.

Luka crouched down to Louis’ height and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Louis.”

“M. Couffaine,” the boy greeted seriously, shaking his hand with all the formality and gravity of a tiny businessman. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

Luka kept his distaste behind his professional mask. He’d never approved of teaching children to tell polite lies. But for all that Adrien had tried to let go of his father’s strict teachings, Louis Agreste was nothing less than rigidly formal and polite.

“You can call me Luka,” he told the boy, who glanced back at his father. Adrien gave him a slight nod and Louis turned back. “I know some teachers prefer a more formal relationship,” Luka continued as if he hadn’t seen this. “But I like to think music is too personal for formality. I want you to be comfortable, though, so if you prefer M. Couffaine, we can go with that.”

Louis blinked, momentarily startled out of his formal composure. “Umm...I’m fine with Luka. Thanks.” A hand rose to rub at the back of his neck in a gesture Luka immediately recognized. Clearly the kid hadn’t expected to have a choice in the matter.

Luka smiled. “Okay. Let me talk to your dad for a second, and then we’ll get started, okay? You can stay here and listen if you want, or you can follow that hall to the studio, that’s where the piano is.”

Louis looked past Luka curiously. “Can I look at some of your other instruments?”

“Sure,” Luka straightened up. “Look all you want, just please don’t touch anything you don’t already know how to play, okay?”

Louis nodded and went off to look at the row of guitars along the wall.

“So,” Luka said, turning to stand next to Adrien and folding his arms as he watched Louis explore. “Tell me why you brought him to me.”

“I was thinking about it even before the divorce,” Adrien told him. “You know I was good as a concert pianist but I was never a composer. Louis, though, he’s got his mother’s creativity. I know I’m biased as his father, but I think he could be a really good songwriter someday. But now…” Adrien sighed. “I’m really worried about him,” he continued in a low voice. “I mean, he’s been seeing a therapist since we told him about the divorce, but...I don’t know.” Adrien sighed again, scrubbing his hand over his face. “He just doesn’t seem to be bouncing back the way he should. He’s so serious and sad all the time, and he seems like he’s lost his passion for music. He wanted to quit and Marinette wanted to let him. We kind of fought about it, actually. This is a compromise. If he still wants to quit after he’s worked with you for a while, I’ll let him, but I’m hoping you can help him. The way you connect with music, it’s unique. Frankly, if you can’t help him then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Luka made a thoughtful noise. “I can try. I can’t guarantee it. Some people just lose the spark. Or it may be too painful for him to play right now, but he’ll pick it up again in a few years.”

“We used to play together all the time.” Adrien’s voice cracked. “He never wants to play with me anymore.”

Luka put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s not rejecting you, Adrien. I’m sure of that. Just give him a little time. I’ll work with him and we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, you work on finding other ways to connect with him. Don’t pressure him about the music at all for now, okay? Let him know you’re willing to play with him whenever he wants to and then drop it.” Luka frowned. “And if he does ask to play with you, you better be ready to drop whatever you’re doing and play. No excuses, Adrien.”

“I wouldn’t,” Adrien protested.

Luka folded his arms again. “All right, now I’m going to piss you off, so brace yourself.”

“Great,” Adrien muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Tell me what’s going on with you and his mother.”

Sure enough, Adrien scowled. “Why do you need to know that?”

“Do you want me to teach him, or not?” Luka asked calmly. “You brought him to me for a reason, Adrien. I’m not trying to pry for the gritty details, but I need to know what’s going on in his head. Are you still friendly or...”

“We’re...strained. We’re both in therapy but—” Adrien shook his head. “She left me, Luka. I’m having a really hard time forgiving her for that. And—” Luka glanced at him as he seemed to struggle to get the words out. “I think she’s having a hard time forgiving herself for it too,” Adrien finally finished, grudgingly. “She’s working a lot. She’s been my head designer at Gabriel since my father passed. She doesn’t need me, she’s more than talented enough to split off and form her own brand. But she hasn’t done it. It’s been...less than a clean break. We’re managing to work together civilly because we have to, none of the other designers have the vision to keep Gabriel relevant, but it’s still pretty tense.”

“How’s she with Louis?”

“She’s a fantastic mom, everything I wish I could have had as a kid. She pays attention to him, she always puts his needs first. She indulges him without spoiling him, she pushes him without pressuring him, she encourages him to do better without making him feel like he’s not good enough.” Adrien sighed, and swallowed.

“I loved her so much,” he said thickly. “I built my whole life around her. I’ve accepted that she’s gone and she’s not coming back, but...I don’t know. Deep down I love her and I want her to be happy, but I can’t seem to stop being angry at her and she just takes whatever cruel thing comes out of my mouth because she thinks she deserves it. I don’t know how we got so twisted up.”

Luka turned and pulled Adrien into a hug. “It’s okay to be upset, man,” he told his old friend. “It’s okay.” They stayed that way for a moment, until Adrien pulled away.

“I’m sorry I let us go so long without contact, and now here I’m only calling because I need your help. I’m a terrible friend,” Adrien sighed. “And I should have called you after—” Luka flinched, and Adrien broke off. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“That’s life, Adrien,” Luka shrugged, staring at the floor. “I haven’t exactly been breaking down your door either, so don’t sweat it. You and I just run in different circles right now, and that’s okay. Doesn’t mean we’re not friends. Now you go do your thing, and Louis and I will go do ours, and we’ll see where all this goes.”

Adrien and Louis said a quick goodbye, and Louis reluctantly followed Luka to the studio. Luka sat next to him at the piano, leaving plenty of space between them. “Okay, Louis, we’re just going to see how much you know, okay? No pressure, this isn’t a pass-fail kinda thing. It’s just to help me see where to start with you.” He set Louis some basic exercises, unsurprised when the boy flew through them with an expression that was a mix of melancholy and boredom. Luka worked him up through the exercises until he thought he had a good idea of Louis’ ability, and then set the music books aside.

“Okay,” Luka said, “Now play me something that makes you happy. Anything you want.”

Louis gave him a startled look. Luka just looked back expectantly. Louis’ hands crept to the instrument, and then fell away again. Luka just waited.

“It doesn’t make me happy anymore,” Louis whispered. “It just makes me miss my dad.”

Luka put his hand on Louis shoulder. “That’s okay. And it’s brave of you to admit that. But your dad isn’t gone, Louis. I know that he loves you and he’ll play with you any time you ask. That’s not something you have to give up.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I know,” Luka said sympathetically, genuinely feeling for the boy. “Nothing stays the same forever. Sometimes change comes when we’re not expecting it and it’s hard. Especially when you feel like you don’t have any control over what’s happening and you just wish everything could go back to the way it was, but you know it can’t. So,” he finished, dropping his hand, “Try playing something that expresses how you’re feeling. It doesn’t have to be a song, you can just play a few notes or whatever. Whatever comes to mind.”

Louis frowned at the keys for a moment, and then lifted his hands over them. He tried a few notes, and then shook his head, and played the same sequence in a lower register. Luka nodded slowly as the boy played, taking notes in a book he kept to one side.

“Good,” Luka said, when Louis started to fumble and scrunch his face in frustration. “Let’s stop there for now. Let me show you what I heard while you played.” Luka placed his hands over the keys, and played the theme he’d heard repeated in Louis’ experiments.

“Does that feel right?” Luka asked, playing it again.

“Yeah,” Louis said slowly. “I mean, yes, it does.” The tension in his body eased slightly.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Luka said. “It helps, to get it out, so you can feel more like this.” He shifted to a slightly different melody, lighter, more hopeful. “You see? The sadness is still there, but it’s not the whole piece anymore. Then you build from there…” He changed the piece again, crescendoing, adding flares of joy, and emphasizing the hope. “So that even if the sadness never goes away, it doesn’t lock up your heart. You’re more open to the good things that come along—or maybe the good things that were always there. It won’t be the same as it was before—“ he played a light, happy, uncomplicated melody.

“But nothing stays the same forever,” Louis grudgingly repeated.

“Exactly.” Luka took his hands from the keys. “I want you to keep working on your exercises at home, okay?” He stood from the piano and went over to a cabinet on the wall, digging through it for a moment and coming up with three CDs. He brought them back and handed them to the boy. “Listen to these, and when you come back, we’ll talk about which pieces speak to you. We’ll use that to plan our lessons. And any time you want to, we can do what we did today, and maybe help you work through some of those hard feelings. Okay?” He held out his hand for Louis to shake, and the young boy took it. Louis moved slowly, but his grip was firm, and Luka was satisfied. “And if you won’t resent some personal advice,” Luka added, “Don’t stop playing with your dad. It might feel sad now, but it’s okay for you to be sad together. Someday you’ll be able to play happy again, and you’ll want him to be there.”

Louis made a noncommittal noise.

Luka crouched again to meet his eyes. “Listen. I know I don’t need to lecture you about practice, and I can see that playing hurts you right now. I’m going to talk to your dad, and make sure that he and your mom know that you’re allowed to decide on your own practice time, okay? For now, just do what you feel you can do. If you sit down one day to practice and it just hurts too much, it’s okay to get up and walk away. Try again later if you can, but if you can’t, that’s okay too. Music has to come from your heart, and if your heart is hurting too much to make music, then it doesn’t matter how much you practice, you’ll just be making noise, not music. I trust you to be responsible and not blow off practice just for the hell of it, okay? You sit down at that bench every day and you do what you think you can manage. If you can’t make yourself do the exercises, just play like you did today, whatever comes into your mind. In the meantime I’ll write up that little tune you wrote and you can have a copy of it to take home next week.” He paused, and then said, “Let me ask you something, Louis. Do you want to love music again? Is this something that you’re willing to put in the work for?”

Tears sprang to the boy’s blue-green eyes. He didn’t seem able to answer, but Luka nodded anyway. “Okay. Then we’ll get there. A little bit at a time. There’s no deadline on this, Louis. Nobody gets to tell you how long it takes to feel better. You’ll get there when you’re ready, as long as you want to. And my job is to help you and support you while you get there.”

“Like a physical therapist after an accident?” Louis asked, and Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly at the astute comparison.

“Exactly,” Luka smiled. “All right, your dad should be here any minute. While we wait, you want me to show you one of those guitars you were looking at earlier?” Louis’ eyes brightened, and Luka grinned. “All right then.”

***

He’d been working with Louis for about a month when he met her. Normally, Adrien brought Louis to practice and picked him up personally, but for some business reason or other that Luka hadn’t really bothered to listen to, Louis’ mother was going to pick him up from practice.

They weren’t quite finished when Luka’s doorbell rang. He left Louis in the studio and went to answer it.

Luka opened the door and felt the breath leave his body like he’d been punched in the gut. The dark-haired, blue-eyed woman standing there in a crisp, well-fitted business suit smiled and his pulse pounded in his ears so loudly that he missed her greeting.

Shit, he needed to get it together. He took a deep breath and focused on what she was saying.

“I’m, um, I’m here to pick up my son?”

“You’re Louis’ mom?” he said stupidly.

She raised her eyebrows slightly and God, her eyes were so blue. “Yes, I’m Marinette Agreste.” She put out her hand.

“Right,” Luka rasped, and then cleared his throat as he shook her hand. “I’m Luka Couffaine, Louis’ teacher. Obviously.” He tore his eyes from hers in an effort to reboot his brain and in the process, looked down at their joined hands. A flash of color caught his eye. She had a small, brightly-colored ladybug tattooed on the heel of her hand, just below her thumb. He managed to pull himself together enough to let go of her hand and say, “Please, come in, we’re almost done. Um, I’m sorry to ask you this, but since we’ve never met can I check your ID please?”

She actually looked pleased rather than offended as she complied. The ladybug flashed at him again as she handed him the card. Cute.

“Great, thanks.” He handed her ID back to her with an apologetic smile. “Can’t be too careful. Studio’s back here, just follow me.”

As they approached the studio door, Luka slowed, listening. He held a hand up to stop Marinette, turning towards her for a moment to put a finger to his lips. Very quietly he opened the studio door.

Louis didn’t notice, absorbed in his playing. Luka felt a satisfied smile spread across his lips. The boy was finally playing with his whole heart.

He heard Marinette’s breath hitch at his side, and he glanced down at her. She had one hand over her mouth but he could see the way the smile beneath crinkled the corners of her eyes—eyes that shimmered as he watched. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, then slipped into the room, sliding next to Louis on the piano bench. He didn’t say anything and Louis only glanced at him and continued to play. For a moment, he listened and Louis played, and then Louis’ hands fumbled to a stop.

“That’s as far as I can go,” Louis said quietly. “I don’t know the rest yet.”

Luka held up his fist. “That was awesome. Pound it, little man.” Louis grinned, and met Luka’s fist with his own. Then to Luka’s surprise, Louis threw his arms around Luka’s waist and hugged him, something like a sob escaping him. “Hey, it’s okay,” Luka rubbed the boy’s back. “It feels good, right? To get it out. That’s what the music is for. Now you go home and cry if you need to, but remember what that felt like just now. That’s what you want, okay? That’s what makes it music and not just noise. It’s not about perfection, it’s about emotion and connection.” Louis nodded, face still hidden in Luka’s shirt. “I’m proud of you, kid. I know that was hard. And I think someone else is proud of you too.”

Louis lifted his head and Luka nodded toward Marinette, still standing frozen outside the door. Louis straightened, scrubbing at his face. “Maman, I—“

Marinette just held her arms out, a beaming smile on her face that made Luka’s heart seize up. Shit, what the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even know this woman.

Louis went running into her arms. Marinette squeezed him tight, with no regard for the way he was surely wrinkling her suit. Luka couldn’t clearly hear whatever she whispered, but he could hear the love and pride in her voice. He smiled to himself. Louis might be having a rough time coming to terms with the divorce, but with both parents loving him as hard as they did, Luka wasn’t worried for him in the long term. He’d be just fine.

Then Marinette straightened and turned that blinding smile on him and he actually felt his IQ drop sharply.

“Thank you, M. Couffaine,” she said feelingly, and it took him half a breath longer than it should have to recognize his own name.

“Call me Luka, please.”

Pink touched her cheeks. “Luka. Thank you. I’m happy to see Louis finding his passion for music again. Adrien was right to say we should bring him to you before we gave up.”

Luka shrugged slightly and smiled. “It��s my job. And my pleasure. Louis is easy to teach. He knows his basics so well, we get to spend most of our time on the fun stuff.” He winked at the boy, who gave him a small smile back.

“Still. I was skeptical when Adrien wanted Louis to continue, and I can see now that he was right,” Marinette said, laying her hands lightly on Louis’ shoulders. “So thank you. I know I don’t need to tell you how much music means to him and his father, but—well. Thank you.”

“Mom,” Louis whispered, “You’re being weird.”

The pink in her cheeks darkened and Luka pressed his lips together to hide his amusement. “We should go,” Marinette said, nudging Louis. “It was nice meeting you, M—Luka.”

“It’s been my pleasure, ma’am,” he said, walking them to the door.

“Marinette is fine,” she said brightly, and if she’d been pretty before when she was composed and professional, she was stunning now that she was effervescing with happiness. Luka opened the door for them automatically, his brain temporarily offline. “Until next time!” she chirped as they left, and Luka watched them until they were back in their car and pulling away from the curb. He stepped back inside and closed the door carefully. He leaned his forehead on it and tried to calm his racing heart.

What the hell was that? He hadn’t been so instantly attracted to anybody in...a long time. A very long time.

Luka turned his back to the door and frowned. Surely, he’d met Adrien’s wife before. He’d been at the wedding, for crying out loud. Although, he hadn’t stayed long. Even the best weddings were awkward, and this one hadn’t been the best, huge and pretentious and full of stuffy people he’d had no interest in. He did vaguely remember meeting the bride and shaking hands with Adrien, but was only a few seconds. He remembered thinking she was beautiful but wasn’t every woman on their wedding day? He probably had barely looked her in the eye, now that he thought of it, eager to pay his respects and be gone, too lost in his own concerns to really be at ease in the stilted atmosphere, especially with Gabriel Agreste watching Adrien’s every move.

He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t matter. She was a client. He wouldn’t see her very often. He could keep a lid on this. They’d see each other only professionally and not very often, so it would be fine.

He would be fine.

***

“Luka, hey. I just wanted to check in on things since I wasn’t able to be there this week. It seemed like things are going well?”

“Yeah, I think Louis had a bit of a breakthrough this week. He’s letting his feelings back into his music.”

“I heard. You made an impression on Marinette. She was practically gushing when she dropped Louis off.”

“Oh. That was just...lucky timing, I guess. It wasn’t really me, it was Louis.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. That’s the first time she’s admitted I was right about something in years.”

#quickspins #beautiful dreams #buckle up buttercup here we go #angst with a happy ending #lots of fluff #single parent au #moving on #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #birthday big bang

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 4 years

Text

You and Kozik had been married for twenty years, your daughter turned eighteen a week ago and was currently on a date with a nineteen year old boy. Your husband Kozik was pissed. He was nervous for her, he was scared she’d get her heart broken. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but he would.

You came in after a long day at work to find his pistol on the table and him in the kitchen cooking. You’re met with a sweet smile and a glass of your favorite sweet red wine. “Hey baby.” He smiles, pulling you back against him as you take a sip of your wine.

“Hey, it’s almost eleven, what are you still doing up?” You ask, as normally he was sleeping on the couch by now. You’d smile at him as you entered the living room, you always found him so peaceful.

“Making dinner, Hermione is out with that Morrow kid again.” He growls, letting go to finish cooking. Placing a platter in front of you with sliced chicken, green peppers, onions, and a side of mashed potatoes.

“Oh baby, don’t worry hunny. Don’t you remember us at that age?” You ask, smiling at him with a knowing smile. He smiles for a second, frowning.

“I sure do. And that makes it worse. I’d have shot me for the fun we had, babes.” He growls, loading his gun. With a chuckle, you pull his pistol from his hand and take it upstairs. You finished a little under half of the plate before you could barely keep your head up.

“I’m gonna head to bed, baby. Don’t be too harsh, Hemi.” You smile, pressing a warm kiss to his lips and heading back upstairs.

“Night baby!” He calls, coming up the stairs after you. He pulled off his dark, oily jeans into his oily clothes bin and crawling into the black sheets next to you, both of you in your underwear. You found so much comfort in his warm grip that in mere seconds, the circles he gently drew into your shoulders had you snoring against him. He smiled at you sleeping, kissing your forehead. “I love you so much.” He hushes, pulling you atop his chest to hold you closer and feel you breathe against his chest.

Tears filled his eyes for a second as he thought about her. His little girl. His little Harley angel. She was his light and his crazy little sidekick. She is now an adult, and the fact that he couldn’t protect her from everything scared the hell out of him. The tears in his eyes ran down his cheeks. He sniffed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake you. He loved his daughter with his whole heart, and her tears broke his whole heart. He’d do anything to keep her little forever; but he couldn’t and it was time to accept that she was going to get her heart broken. She would have to learn how to be a functioning adult and mess up sometimes.

Around midnight he heard the door open and he slid you off him, slipping into his jeans, no shirt, pistol tucked away. You watched him pad out of the room, looking sexy as hell. Once he was out of sight, you jump out of bed and grab your closest item, a tee shirt of his and a pair of shorts, padding down the stairs behind your husband.

“Hermione get up to your room. I wanna talk to the Morrow boy.” He orders, his deep voice booming through the quiet kitchen. You sneak around the corner to find the pistol laid on the table, Kozik’s arms crossed over his chest. You took a moment to soak him in, still masculine as the day you met, still strong, but still sweet. With a gentle hand to his back, you hear him sigh. Hermione watches with a little smile. She wanted what her parents have. They were her role models, the strength between them and the love that held them together, even when they fought. She found it with Keaton Morrow. She was totally in love with him. He even wanted to marry her, and she wanted to marry him.

“Daddy! Momma tell him that Keaton means well! He loves me momma! Tell daddy—“

“Christ Hermie! Shut up! Quit screeching! You’re dad hasn’t shot him yet, even after we both said eleven-thirty. And sneaking him into our house, good try darling. I learned all the tricks sneaking your dad into our house. Your grandpa shot him in the leg once. You’re lucky your dad’s nicer than pops.” You snip, pointing a finger at her. Her head hung low as she toed at the wood floor.

“Go to your room. I wanna talk to Morrow.” He growls, pointing to her door.

“Christ Herman. Stop it. If you don’t remember it wasn’t only twenty years ago Pop did the same thing to you. Said you weren’t scared, but I knew you were. Baby, he hated you for the same reason. You’d never be enough for his baby, his first daughter or only daughter. But baby! Look at her! She looks at him the same way I look at you. Give him a running start. Just a chance.” You smile, cupping his face in your hands and pulling his eyes to yours.

“Damn, baby. You’re right I guess. But you listen to me buck,” he jabs a stern finger at the boy in front of him, “you hurt her, I’ll shoot ya. Same way her grandfather shot me. We clear? And when I tell you eleven thirty. I don’t mean twelve fifteen.” He growls, pointing the gun at the young man. Your hand pulls his down, pulling the gun from his hands tucking it into the waist band of his jeans.

“Come on, baby. Back to bed. I trust you to make the right decisions. Any noises from her bedroom at all, I’ll send Mister Kozik in there with the pistol. Safety off.” You assure, grabbing Kozik’s hand and pulling him up the stairs. “Hey! You little devil!” You squeal, letting him scoop you up and carry you to bed.

“I love you baby, you really still look at me like some starry-eyed teenager?” He asks, grabbing your waist and tapping the radio’s on button. Their song started and he starts swaying back and forth, eyes never leaving yours. With a sweet little smirk, he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you too, did my dad really shoot you?” You ask, your smile faultering a little.

“Yeah, he did.” He absolutely did. You laughed as he pulled up his sleeve to show you the scar. A small round mark where the bullet exited.

“I love you so much. Sorry I lost it. I just get so scared, you know? Like, what happens when she moves out and it’s just us again. Shit babe. What would we do?” He asks, his bright blue eyes misty with unshed tears. You give a soft chuckle, framing his square jaw with your petite hands.

“Oh my sweet love, you and I will have the house to ourselves. We could do exactly what I told them not to do.” You wink, letting him walk you backwards to the bed, falling next to you and kissing your cheeks, forehead, and nose, leaving your lips for last.

“We could do whatever we want. I dare him to try that until they’re married.” He growls, nuzzling your neck with his scruff. You giggle as ‘I’m So Into You’ by SWV comes on, jumping to your feet and swinging your hips back and forth, your golden skin peeking from under his SAMTAC tee shirt.

The next morning, you hear a light knock at the door before someone walks in. Creeping downstairs, you find your father sitting at your table.

“Hey dollface.” He whispers, patting the chair next to him. You whisk into the kitchen to make coffee before scampering over to sit next to him. Sliding the chair closer, you lean your head over on his shoulder, your curly hair falling in ringlets over his shoulder as you did.

“Hey Pop, what are you doing here already?” You ask, soaking his warm arm over your shoulder when you hear your daughter come into the kitchen. “Morning baby.” You smile, pointing to the chair across from you. With a happy, sleepy smile she leans against him on his other side.

“Hi Pop. Did you really shoot daddy in the shoulder?” She asks, giving a yawn. He chuckles, nodding in confirmation. You hear Kozik’s heavy footfalls on the stairs and you grin, standing and greeting him with a sweet kiss at the entrance of the kitchen and slipping a cup of coffee into his hands.

“Thank you, baby.” He whispers, kissing your forehead and sitting at the table across from Tig.

“Hey old man.” He chuckles, shaking his hand.

“Hey kid.” He chuckles. All of a sudden, without warning, your daughter climbs into Kozik’s lap and hugs tightly to his neck.

“I love you so much, daddy. I hope you still come visit me like Pop does when I move out.” She cries into his shoulder. He smiles, a tear slipping down his cheek as he nods.

“I promise you, you’ll be begging me to stop visiting so often, babygirl. I love you, baby. You know that?” He asks, tipping her head back brushing a blonde curl from her face. She looked so much like his gorgeous wife, big frizzy curly hair, a warm sleepy smile and sweet blue eyes.

“I know, daddy. I’m just scared to grow up. You and momma make it look so easy, ya know?” She asks, hugging tightly to him still.

“I cried last night while you were out. I was thinking the same thing you are, but I’ve spent twenty years raising you, making you a stand up adult. I’m scared of what the world is gonna do to your sweet, innocent little heart, but your mom promised me you’d be okay. I want that same thing for you, baby. I want you to know the kind of pure love I get from your mom. And if I don’t give you a chance, like Tig gave me, how will you know? I’m not sorry for pulling a gun on his sorry ass, but I’m willing to get to know him.”

“Hell, he may turn out to be a pretty stand up guy. Even if he is five years older than your daughter.” Tig huffs, scowling at the new face in their kitchen. His granddaughter’s boyfriend. “Maybe not.” Tig growls, giving the boy a daringly dark look.

“You must be mister Trager. I’m Keaton Morrow.” He sticks out a hand and firmly shakes her grandfather’s hand.

“Morrow?” Tig booms.

“Daddy, it’s okay. It’s almost as bad as a Kozik.” You giggle, patting his shoulder and sitting him back down.

“I don’t know, baby. Anyway, nice to meet you. You got any ill intentions with my granddaughter?” He demands, taking a scarily calm sip of coffee.

“No sir, I’d like to marry her someday. If you and Mister Kozik would give me your blessing?” His eyes jut between your husband and your father, both frowning into their coffee cups.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” Kozik mutters, giving her a smile and kissing her forehead.

“I’ll hide the body.” Tig snips, sipping from his cup once more.

“Thank you daddy!” She cheers, gripping his neck. “Thank you Pops!” She squeals, hugging his tightly. A ringed, weathered hand pats her back.

“And the cycle continues.” You giggle, patting your daughter’s back as she hugs you.

#imagine #cute imagine #herman kozik imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik imagine #kozik oneshot #sons of anarchy kozik #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #sons #soa #soa oneshot #soa kozik #kozik has a kid #fem!reader

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sailorshadzter · 4 years

Note

Prompt: Ancient! Rome AU: After the Starks were branded as traitors Sansa becomes a political hostage of emperor Joffrey and is expected to marry him, however her hatred for him increases each passing day as he forces her to watch the gory executions of her people in form of gladiator fights. One day a new gladiator enters the coliseum: it's Jon

id like to start out by saying i KNOW NOTHING of this time period LOL

but its always been a time period ive been interested in and someday when im not so obsessed with the tudor era in england, ill read about something else. tbh i kind of want to get some more info because as ive finished writing this piece, im entertaining the idea of continuing it. maybe just a part 2 because i have another idea!

ANYWAYS. thanks for the request. i hope you enjoy :)

ps. its set with the backstory of jon being a stark/targ, but rather than being raised among the starks, he’s raised among the night’s watch.

send me prompts

Another day, another summons to join Joffrey in the stadium.

Sansa sighs but does her best to smile for the man in her doorway, for she knows any sense of displeasure would be told to the emperor without hesitation. The man, seemingly satisfied with her response, bows and backs out from the room, allowing the door to slam closed behind.

When she's alone, all of the fight leaves her and she sinks into the nearest chair, head in hands. Yet another day where she's to be forced to witness the gruesome violence that is the gladiator colosseum. Every drop of blood is a reminder of her father's execution, every hour spent in the crowd only more fuel for her nightmares. "My lady... perhaps you are feeling unwell this morning?" It's Shae, her ever loyal handmaiden, prompting her with an excuse she might use to get out of the day's events. But Sansa smiles for her lady and shakes her head, instead rising up from the chair. She is braver than that, than running away from what frightens her.

She might yet be betrothed to a tyrant, chained to a family that had the rest of her's murdered in cold blood... But she was a Stark, through and through, and though she was so very far from the North, she could feel the strength that her home offered. I am a Stark, she thinks as Shae begins to undress her from her nightgown, I am strong because I am a Stark.

She was a Stark and so she would be brave.

[ x x x ]

He can hear the crowd shouting, screaming, gasping.

The horror of it all, this gladiator colosseum , even for a seasoned soldier such as himself is tough to take. He's heard of it of course, even way up North in the midst of the Night's Watch, they know some of what goes on in the South. He's heard the rumors of the mad ruler Joffrey, who prefers violence to peace, who abuses the lowest of servants and most noble of knights. There is no one who is immune to the emperor's temper- save for maybe his mother, the golden haired Lannister queen who ruled alongside his father for many of the last twenty years.

Suddenly, the crowd is roaring and Jon feels his stomach turn over. A moment later, the door that leads out into the stadium flies open and before anyone can speak, he knows what's happening. "Your turn." A gruff voice says a moment before he's shoved out the door and into the sunlight.

All around him, eyes are staring down at him; they scream and they stomp their feet, eager to see the blood bath continue on. In front of him, Jon meets gazes with his opponent, an undefeated mountain of a man, who's chest is smeared with blood that is most certainly not his own. Jon gulps. He's skilled enough of a fighter, but against this brute seems impossible. And from the state of the battefield, from the rumors of this man's strength... Jon has to wonder if this will be his end. After everything he's seen, after everything that he's done... This is where it all will come to and end.

From where she sits beside Joffrey in the emperor's box, Sansa sees the newest recruit come out into the stadium center. Her breath catches in her throat- she's seen hair like that before and it certainly wasn't there in the South. Beside Joffrey, ser Merryn leans in to speak to him. "From the North," he says, shooting a sidelong glance at the young woman seated beside the emperor. Sure enough, as Sansa had thought, this was a man from the North, from her home. But how, she wonders, watching the man as he squares up in front of Joffrey's champion, the Mountain, how has a Northern man ended up here?

"Ah, one of those black crows, eh?" Joffrey asks, green eyes flashing with danger in the sunlight. "Do you know him, sweet lady?" His eyes are upon her instead and for a moment, she freezes. "He looks like your traitor father." Joffrey goes on, gesturing towards the gladiator that now raises a sword as the battle prepares to begin. "But all your traitor brothers are dead, so I imagine it's just another piss poor criminal from Wintertown." Joffrey turns away from her then, back to facing the fight that's just begun.

[ x x x ]

One more swing, one more!

He's pushing himself, harder and further than he's ever pushed himself before. For the first time in all his life, he's thankful for his short stature, giving him ample opportunity over the beast of a man he's facing. Where the man is slow, Jon is quick. His agile movements are too much for him and Jon knows by the end of the third round that if he gets the right chance, he might actually survive.

Now it's the sixth round and Jon knows the final moment must come.

And so he puts it all into this last swing- a quick upper cut movement that catches the Mountain off guard- and for the several moments after he lands back on his feet, Jon isn't certain he's managed to pull it off. But then he glances at his sword- it's stained crimson and dripping. Behind him, he hears the man stagger and then, the crowd goes silent as he falls to his knees and then to the ground. Dead.

Then... The crowd erupts.

[ x x x ]

It's no more than a few minutes when he's approached by the man in charge of the gladiators and another man, well dressed and fair-haired. "You, boy." The gladiator barks, catching Jon's attention where he stands, mid-wiping the blood from his hands. "Come with us."

"To where?" Jon asks, dark gaze sharper than his voice. "I was told if I won I would have my freedom back." He only longs to return North, to find Ghost and live out his days in a place where no one might ever find him.

"And your freedom you shall have," the second man speaks, his green eyes bright in the sunlight that streams in through the nearby open window. "As winner in the stadium, you have the great honor of meeting our emperor." He continues, gesturing for him to take a left down the corridor and towards a door that leads up a set up stairs, which sure enough as he climbs up them Jon can hear the emperor's harsh laughter.

Stepping through the doorway, Jon is lead across the way to where the emperor sits, but it is not the man that catches Jon's interest first. Rather, it is a young woman with hair a shade of vibrant red that seems quite out of sorts among these blonde and brunette southerners. He's seen that shade of hair color before, a Tully born boy who had once joined the ranks of the Night's Watch had hair of the same shade. But beyond the color of her hair... She was beautiful. So beautiful that when she turns to face him, the breath is stolen from his lungs. Her eyes are clear and blue, but lovely as they might be, he finds their gaze to be sad, the eyes of a woman lost.

"So you've defeated my champion."

The sharp voice belongs to the emperor, who Jon has quite honestly forgotten was there. He turns to face the man instead, though he's hesitant to tear his gaze from the lovely woman at his side. "Aye, so I have." Jon replies, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. "It was that or die. I preferred the first option." For a second, there is only silence, until Joffrey lets out a laugh that startles those around them.

"A jester are you, crow?" Joffrey takes a step closer to where Jon stands and it's only then that Jon notices the striking resemblance between him and the man that had led him up to where he stands now. "You would make a far better champion." Now Jon knows where this is going. "I can make you a wealthy man, far wealthier than your meager coins made in the ranks of the crows." He's offering him a choice- to stay and be his new champion of the gladiator colosseum , or... "Or you may go, it is the law of the colosseum and I am a man of my word." Beside him, the young woman flinches, but it is so quick that Jon is certain he's the only one who's noticed. "But be my champion, I will give you all the wealth you could dream of."

For what feels like a lifetime, Jon stands there, silent and still. Only moments ago, his answer had been strong, had been absolute. But now that he stands there in the presence of this young woman, something is nagging at him. Something about her is calling out to him and despite it all, he wants to heed her call. He doesn't even know her name, but with that single glance, she's set fire to his heart and soul.

And so, he nods; he will be the emperor's new champion.

#anon asks #jonsa #jonsa au #ancient rome au #send me prompts #IMAGINE IT #jon and sansa growing closer and closer #and then one day jon says he will fight some ridiculous opponent and if he wins... SANSA IS LET GO.#omg just imagine the angst #thats everything

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saikagerights · 4 years

Text

A New Possession One Shot- Christmas Date

Hello Saiino nation, long time no see. It’s been about a week since my last entry and a lot has happened. An update on me is that unfortunately the anti-depressant I started taking caused my ill-feeling these past couple of days. I was luckily able to get some time off of work to recover, but it’s a holiday weekend over here in the U.S. so my personal situation will probably be ongoing into this week.

But enough about me! We finally have the Christmas chapter, or should I say, one shot. I decided to post this as an extra one shot to better lure people from Archive onto my journal. But it’s also because this is the first narrative piece written in over a year. This time with actual dialogue. I realized from my previous entries that I am capable of writing like this, and I did enjoy writing like this. I do plan on writing more narrative tie-ins to the journal, so you can expect to see more. However, this particular story line I had a bit of trouble, since I know in the timeline it’s still a bit too early for Sai and Ino to get together. I decided to take inspiration from multiple fics in order to get a coherent idea. I particularly took a running theme in omegafire17′s classic fic Art Date.

I also want to once again shout out my bf for listening to my dribble and helping me edit this. He wants to complain, but I know he enjoys doing this.

This was my first true hurdle since beginning this project, so I am excited to finally overcome it so I can continue on with the story proper, I hope you also enjoy it. I also hope you enjoy angst, because this has got plenty of it.

Also on AO3

“Are you doing anything Christmas Eve?”

Ino froze at Sai’s words, trying to process them. Of all the things she expected to come out of Sai’s mouth, which was quite a list mind you, she had never expected him to ask about Christmas. She had her back turned to him as she had assumed he was only visiting to ask more overly-complicated questions about the journal she gave him.

But Sai of all people asking her about plans on Christmas Eve?

If she were still 16, the idea of being asked out on Christmas Eve would’ve given her enough joy to last her a lifetime. But she was now 19, and this was Sai.

Perhaps he’s been sent to inform her of a group gathering. She turned around, applying a small smile as an attempt to enforce a casual atmosphere.

“Nothing in particular. I will be working here a bit, but we’re closing early. Is there something going on?”

His expression then grew pensive, as if he had realized that he once again slipped into his mask. He was truly a challenge for a highly skilled interrogator like her to read, but the more she spoke with him, the more she could pinpoint the cracks in his false demeanor. With this, she could tell that he was having a bit of difficulty with communicating his words.

“Well, I was thinking about inviting you over to celebrate with me.”

Ok so the group gathering was out the window and now her mind was taking a slow but steady nose dive into panic. Sai asking her out on Christmas Eve of all times seemed too unbelievable to be true.

Don’t get her wrong, she still found the young man incredibly attractive. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge the finer points in his appearance. Like his face, or his hair, or his body...

“Uh-” she stammered before he continued.

“I figured since you have given me so much during the span of our friendship, that I could perhaps repay you. Christmas just seemed to be good timing.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, reflecting the utter innocence in his request. Ino inwardly sighed, relieved at his clarification.

More like bad timing… Of course it would be as pure intentioned as him.

It’s not as if she would’ve rejected his advances if it were a date. In fact, she’s been wanting to pull back more of the layers and dig into that inner psyche of his since they met, but that was before she realized how delicate his situation truly was.

The mission to the Land of Silence proved to her that the only way she could truly connect to Sai is if he’d let her in. His trauma ran deep. Deep enough to cover up his true smile and emotional responses.

Seeing his smile in the depths of his subconscious made her heart weep and flutter all at once.

She truly wanted to get to know him better, but he had to get to know himself first. This was her intention when she gave him that journal to write in, and based on his accounts it seemed like it was doing the trick. It also helped that they had engaged in more small talk when he visited the shop.

But now a true opportunity has presented itself to Ino to finally delve into that mysterious aura that had once allured her.

Okay, maybe it’s still a bit alluring now.

As she relaxed, her nervous grin fell into a soft smile.

“So tell me more about this gift of yours…”

________________________________________________________________

Ino followed Sai as he led her through the village, absorbing the environment around her. Christmas Eve in Konoha had always been nothing short of festive; Strung up lights floated above the heads of those walking along the snow ridden paths. Gazing at the ground before her, she couldn’t help being overcome by memories of her childhood perched atop her father’s shoulders as their family strolled through those very same sights. Christmas hasn’t been the same without him. Nothing was the same without him if she were honest. Especially to her poor mother, who had insisted she depart with Sai while she finished closing up for the night.

She glanced at her companion walking beside her. Sai’s expression was unreadable as ever, but she couldn’t help but be transfixed by his cold and focused eyes staring forward towards their destination. She quickly turned her head away as his gaze moved towards her, face growing warm and ponytail whipping behind her. She had tied it up for this outing in order to restrain her hair from being harassed by the winter wind.

Why am I like this? I know this is only him being friendly.

But she couldn’t help him being so beautiful.

Hoping he had shifted his focus back to the road, she turned her head once more in his direction, only to find him still staring down at her.

His expression softened in moderate confusion. “Is there something wrong?”

“No!” She tried to clarify through frivolous waves of the hand. “I was just remembering something…” Ino trailed off for a moment, trying to assess the interaction before deciding on a new route. “Do you spend every Christmas with girls?” She resorted to her typical method of teasing in hopes to take some of the heat off. That may be difficult with what she was working with. He probably couldn’t even understand the nature of her words.

As expected, his confusion was still as strong as ever. He lifted his gaze back to the road.

“The few times I’ve experienced this holiday have been at the gatherings that Naruto puts together. You’ve attended a few of them yourself…” Sai paused in his speech before returning his dark stare down to her. “Were you so inebriated that you have forgotten?”

She found herself flushed once more, covering her face with both hands. She wanted to scream, or at the least groan in frustration, but didn’t want to discourage him. Ino needed to be patient with him. She took a deep breath before throwing her hands down to her sides accompanied by an audible exhale.

“I remember Sai, I was just poking fun. You have to know what teasing is, right?”

The curt nod he gave her had enough force to shake the dark bangs that covered his eyes. “Of course. Teasing is an act intended to provoke someone in playfulness. It is still a little hard for me to identify a teasing remark, however.”

As he looked away, his frown deepened, giving her the impression that he was disheartened by that fact. To prevent him from caving in on himself, she lightly placed her hand on his bicep in encouragement. He shivered, eyes wide and pale skin looking even paler as she quickly pulled away. She tried to keep her tone as gentle as she could muster so as to not startle him further.

“It’s okay. I’m sure you will someday.”

Sai only hummed in acknowledgement, peering at her from the corner of his eye. His body was still tense, reeling from the contact.

Mission failed. I just want him to be able to trust me.

Just as the awkward silence dropped on them like a weight, they had arrived at their destination. The silence continued until they entered his small apartment. The flat wasn’t very homey, but it seemed to have suited Sai. The bare necessities with his supplies littered around the room. An easel accompanied by a short stool sat in the center of the floor. Another stool was placed across from it.

She watched as Sai hastily padded around the space, grabbing small things here and there in preparation for the painting.

Ino had been surprised when Sai proposed the idea of painting her given how naturally intimate the process seeme. He would be giving her his undivided attention, something she had always yearned for, and creating something entirely out of her image. It was a fairly high ranking gesture on the romance meter if you asked her.

“Ino?”

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that he had already taken a seat and was gazing at her expectantly. Shaking her head clear of thoughts once more, Ino slowly made her way towards the stool that awaited her across from him.

She readily noticed the artist’s calculating eyes upon her when she took her seat. His head was slightly tilted, a pale hand covering his mouth.

“Is there anything in particular you wish for me to do?”

He said nothing for a few moments, still processing his vision she presumed. She watched intently as his hand slipped down to uncover his mouth, focusing only on the movement of his lips.

“I planned on having you pose yourself, but I would personally prefer your hair down for this.”

She felt warmth rise into her face, averting her eyes from his gaze once more as she brought her hands up to remove the tie from her hair. Her fingers combed at her golden locks that cascaded down her back.

“Is that better?”

She returned her eyes to him to find that his expression had remained static.

So much for looking seductive

She let out a frustrated sigh and relented to placing her hands into her lap.

She still found his face unchanged. He almost looked troubled. Regarding her for a moment more, he rose from his stool and stepped over to her, grabbing her face without hesitation and positioning it slightly to the right.

“Apologies, this seemed much easier than directing you.” Once seated, he peered at her from the side of the easel, a grin stretched across his face

“But to answer your previous question, yes.”

Ino’s hands reflexively lifted from her lap to wipe at her face in aggravation.

Sai’s face reappeared from the side of his canvas, this time sporting a look that was far less amused than before.

“It would be better if you tried not to move or speak during this process.”

Silence suddenly blanketed the room. A common theme with him. She could tell he had started his work because she could only hear the sounds of his pencil scratching the canvas. Outlining, she assumed. Ino had also noticed how often he peeked from behind his canvas to look at her. It was quite amusing to watch his ever-changing glare from her perspective. His thin eyes narrowed, growing even thinner. Sometimes she would be graced by the twisting of his lips, exposing dimples she never would’ve guessed he had in the first place. She especially couldn’t help but notice the way his brow lifted along with one corner of his mouth, almost as if some part of her was particularly interesting to him.

But what was so interesting? She could easily find out if she put her mind to it. Perhaps all Sai needed was some careful instruction and physical persuasion to bring out those feelings she knew he had. He would probably be eager to learn if she truly insisted. Tonight could present itself with a teaching opportunity if she looked hard enough. He’d probably be up for it, maybe his invitation meant something more.

What am I thinking?! Of course it didn’t!

Ino left her mind to wander into dangerous territory and she had finally become aware. Her resolve was crumbling more and more by the minute and they had only just begun. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the concentrated silence that enveloped him, or that strange lift in his voice. The one that otherwise betrayed the more dreary expression that usually occupied his face.

He’s just trying to be friends! And yet-

Ino shot up from the stool, stiff as a board. She caught a glimpse of Sai from behind his canvas before he noticed, a serene smile adorning his face.

He was really enjoying himself. And she was about to ruin that…

“What’s wrong?”

Genuine bewilderment had spread across his expression.

“Sai, I’m sorry, I just can’t do this.”

Sai sat rooted in his seat, pupils shaking as his mind was incapable of processing the situation

“I-I don’t understand. Wh-what do you mean?”

Ino wanted to explain, but the thoughts couldn’t form. She didn’t quite understand what was going on with her either. She picked up her discarded jacket and made a move to leave, but was impeded by Sai’s hand tightly gripping hers.

“Please, at least explain what I did wrong. I thought this was what friends do.” His eyes pleaded with her. Pulling away from his grasp was what finally uprooted him, but he stood frozen in place as she fled towards the door.Her eyes watered as she looked back at his still form and dejected expression. She was really going to break his healing heart, and it killed her.

Ino’s control had vanished, leaving her vulnerable to her oncoming feelings. She needed time to think about the door she was about to enter, and getting worked up over it now would only make it worse.

What could’ve happened if her thoughts strayed any further?

Would she have acted upon her deep-rooted desires?

It doesn’t matter what I want. Sai just doesn’t need that...

“It’s not you, I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all me. I’m sorry-”

The door slammed shut behind her before he even had a chance to think over it.

And that makes this one shot complete. Angsty as hell. I hope that I did Ino justice with this one. I didn’t want to break Sai’s heart, but it had to be done for the sake of forwarding the plot

Also to properly convey, Christmas Eve is a romantic holiday where couples go out and spend time with one another, similarly to the western Valentine’s day. Not yet sure when the next entry will be posted, but it is coming. I do have multiple ideas for how the story develops after this occurrence. Hopefully I’ll have enough content to get through until the next milestone, the Sakura Hiden.

Thanks for sticking with me during what is considered a difficult time for me. And until the next one,

-Saikage

#Sai Journal #saiino #sai yamanaka #Ino Yamanaka #si fanfic #sj oneshot

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kaibacorpbros · 4 years

Text

I Just Wanted to Say Hello

Seto checked his watch. He always took note of the time whenever he was dimension sliding. Time was finicky across dimensions of course. But it was still helpful to keep track a little bit at least. He hadn’t been here too long, be he could already tell he was fatigued from the last Slide. It had been a greater leap then he had done in a while. Both the dimension system and himself needed to recharge.

So he stepped into a cafe to kill some time. Get a coffee, maybe even something to eat to recharge before he attempted another Slide, even if he really didn’t feel like it. Pulling up the dimension map he’d been marking all his travels with he idly set a new entry while he waited for his food close by the door. A brief glance around the city and it was easy to tell that this world was placed in the past by quite a few years. If a version of himself existed in this world, he would at least be very young.

What would you like to name this dimension, sir? Lalna, his A.I. spoke softly through the duel gazer.

The bell to the shop interrupted his discreet fidgeting with the markings with settings and details on the map.

“Excuse me,” a lady’s voice huffed.

Seto’s head snapped up, the holograms disappearing. An all too familiar seemingly immortally young face and short black hair greeted him. The face of someone he admired like no one else, one he only now saw in his hallucinations and nightmares.

Mom.

“Deactivate,” he rasped in a low voice. The light of the duel gazer died, and Lalna’s voice faded away.

“Hey, I don’t have all day. Lunch breaks aren’t forever– but you’re one of those actor-types or stage performers, aren’t you?” she said, noting his eccentric state of dress. “I doubt you have that problem.”

She didn’t recognize him. That narrowed down the possibilities slightly…

“O-Of course. I apologize.”

His hands were twitching as he hastily stepped out of the way. All these years and her stern voice still made him feel like he was caught stealing sweets from the kitchen cabinet.

This was unreal. She was right there. Right there. He could reach out and touch her. Hug her. And she didn’t even know who he was.

Either this was a dimension he didn’t exist in, or he had simply not been born yet or was too young to bear any resemblance to him now.

He re-approached her after both their orders had been filled. “About earlier, sorry for the holdup."

She stared up at him from her seat like his face had just turned blue.

"Don't...mention it? At least you didn't get an attitude like most you fancy kid types do."

Ah. Right. He was definitely in the demographic his mother used to get annoyed with all the time back then. Young guys that used to push everyone else around as they saw fit.

Shit. He needed to find a way to stay. To talk to her. Any normal person would have walked away long before this. He had to make something up, and quickly.

"I-- you look familiar. I think I may know your husband,” he noted the ring on her finger. “Not exactly well, per se. I'm a scientist as well, just uh, computer engineering."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Scrutinizing his story most likely. Of all the times, this was one where he actually wished his mom wasn't so damn smart! Although, Seto supposed it did make sense. She probably just saw him as some weird guy who had too much money to invest in what should definitely not be tech of this time. He powers both the duel gazer and disk down and slips them into his coat pocket, taking the seat across from her.

"Ah, some prototypes they've been having me test."

"Huh. Some kind of fancy new mobile phone?"

Right. Bluetooth wasn't even near to being around yet. Seto latched onto that idea and mentally apologized to the real inventor, whoever they were.

“Yes. We hope to create a completely hands-free phone one day.”

Looking like her interest was slightly piqued, his mother took a bite of her sandwich.

“Well, likely won’t see that in my lifetime, but boy would that be nice.”

After a pause, Seto realized she was fishing for a name. “Isono.” It was the first thing that popped into his head. “Nice to meet you.”

“Shigaraki. Chihiro Sigaraki. So what’s a group developing a new fancy mobile phone doing with biologists?”

Mentally he kicked himself. He should have come up with something better than that!

“Ah, well that’s not the only thing we do of course. It’s a fairly new branch honestly, we make lab equipment and such, that’s how I met your husband. It was a brief conversation, but he nearly talked my ear off about his work.”

At the mention of her spouse, the air around his mom changed significantly.

“Oh, that’s him alright. Heh, let me guess did he go on and on about salamander poisons and regeneration?”

A bittersweet smile tugged at his lips.

“Hm. Indeed he did. The one that makes you go blind for about three minutes if it squirts you in the eye?”

“Hahaha, and those idiots time how long effect lasts instead of-- I don’t know, seeking medical help. I know it’s just a little amphibian, but come on. There’s plenty of tiny frogs that can kill you too.”

Seto laughs, the purest one he’s had in a long, long time.

“Exactly! But he’s happy I suppose, so as long as he’s careful I guess.”

“Well, it looks like you absorbed some of what he said. I’ll have to let him know, I’m sure he’d get a kick out of his ramblings actually being memorable to someone. I’m surprised he didn’t mention you. You aren’t exactly ordinary-looking. You always wear that outrageous coat?”

Seto deflated real quick at that, he almost would have fidgeted in his seat if he hadn’t been taught better.

“Ah. Erm. Not always. Just for experiments. Lots of pockets. And uh... my brother designed it.”

Your son.

That made Chihiro pause. Seto guessed she could tell by the way he said it that meant something to him.

“Oh, I see. Well, tell your brother he’s got quite the... imaginative mind,” she said with a small laugh.

A small burst of pride for Mokuba flared in him.

“Thank you. That will mean a lot to him. Truly.”

More than she could ever know.

“So, compter engineering. That’s quite an up and coming field, I’ve heard. How did someone so young as yourself get involved in it?”

Seto really ought to have thought out his cover story better. He made a mental note to properly write one out for any future Dimension travels.

“Er. My true passion is game design. Though my... mentor kind of directed me through engineering and such first and it branched out from there, but it wasn’t exactly, what he had intended.”

Not by a long shot.

“Oh, like those video games? I can’t say I know much about them-- but I do quite like chess and some gambling card games.”

I know, you taught me chess, was what he wanted to say.

“Those too, actually. I do hope to create some fun video games, especially action ones, but I really have an affinity for those trading card games as well, so I plan to do something with those someday as well. Something to bring them to life, you know?”

Perhaps it was because she saw him as another young kid compared to her, wide-eyed with curiosity and awe for the future, but she laughed, though Seto could tell there was no ill-will intended.

“I’m at a loss of how all that stuff works, a bit past my time I’m afraid to say, despite my face looking like a highschooler,” she said with poorly masked irritation.

She tucked her bangs to the side as she finished the last of her meal.

“But all of that sounds very interesting. If it ends up happening I look forward to it. I think you may have something there, Isono.”

Of course he did. And it worked. It earned him billions and brought the company out of the red after the majority of their shareholders bailed when he took over. Placing them back farther up the corporate ladder then they had ever been, soon after everyone was scrambling for a piece.

Yet her simple praise, her belief--

He certainly wished he could have heard those words when he was still in an uphill battle trying to get the company off the ground. The simple words filled his essence with something long lost, now so foreign, something that he wanted to hold onto forever.

He’d been silent for far too long.

“T-Thank you very much, honestly. I... haven’t had anyone say that actually.”

Which was true. No one had supported it like that when Solid Vision was in development.

Only Mokuba.

“Of course, I--”

Her words were interrupted by the beeping of her watch. An alarm. Chihiro muttered a swear under her breath, and Seto could very accurately say that was the only time he’d ever heard her utter such a thing.

“Sorry--I’ve lost track of time, I need to get back to work, can’t give my stuck up boss another mark against me.”

She stood and grabbed her bookbag and headed for the door. Seto nearly knocked over his own chair to follow her out.

The bell rang again as the door closed behind him.

“One of those huh? Keep your head up, things will change. Slowly, but I promise you, they will.”

It was a stupid and weird thing for him to say, Seto knew. But given how much his mother always raged about it, he felt like he needed to say it, even if she didn’t believe him.

She gave him an odd look.

“Wishful thinking you got there, but I certainly hope so. I’ll fight the good fight regardless.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things Seto simply couldn’t. If he explained it all she would understand she would--

Stop.

“Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime? I can have Tatsuya invite you over next time he sees you.”

A silent breath left him as he tried to pin down words, but eventually, his expression fell back into neutrality.

“He- uh, probably won’t. I er, don’t really get assigned there normally. I was filling in for someone who was sick.”

A questioning frown appeared on her face, but Seto could tell she was more preoccupied with worrying about making it back in time.

“But... but maybe we’ll meet again.” Seto extends a hand.

His mother takes it, and he holds on longer then he should. Bringing up his other hand to hold hers, he’s surprised when she doesn’t whack him upside the head for that.

Perhaps it’s something in his eyes.

“It’s been an honor meeting you.”

Truly meeting you.

He regrets pushing so many memories to the back of his head to collect dust and slowly wither away. Yet in that exact moment, he is also reminded of why he did that. They’re on borrowed time.

Bewilderment crosses his mother’s face, and he can see the gears turning-- perhaps somehow she did know the person in front of her? But that was impossible.

“Thanks? Heheh.”

There’s an awkward laugh. She doesn't think him a creep, but she knows something isn’t right, but she can’t put her finger on it.

“In that case, Tatsuya and I will keep a lookout for you in Domino. It’s been very nice to meet you too.”

She pulls away and disappears down the stairs of the closest subway entrance.

Seto should forget about this dimension. Forget he was ever here. Bury it all again. The past is dead.

But it isn’t the past here. This was his parents’ present. And perhaps there was still time before this world’s Seto existed if there would be one. And if there wasn’t... there couldn't be any true harm, could there?

He needed to stop thinking like that. Forget about this place. Forget again. Forget. Forget. Forget.

He powers up the dimension system again.

Lalna continues where it left off. What would you like to name this dimension sir?

“Greed.”

#(do not reblog)#(aaaaaaa this turned into a mOnster of a fic jfc i should just post it as a fic on ao3)#(likes and comments are encouraged though!)#(tbh after all this i'd cry of joy if you heart it)#(feel free to scream about this to me in my inbox im/etc)#(i'd love it)#KC files [Lore]#lore #legacy [drabbles]#drabbles #(posting at o'ass o'clock)#v; divided

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