#{ we lead strange lives chasing our dreams around from place to place | answers }

[dreamsbuilt]

sigrvif said:  ❛  sometimes i wake up and my body does not follow  ❜

            He’s used to this, to whispered confessions and words that he shouldn’t be privy to. Marco has a talent for making people talk. He pulls things from them that they sometimes aren’t even aware of. In the past, it’s been an incredibly useful skill. For the last century or so though, he hasn’t needed to manipulate much out of people. It comes in handy every now and again, but his world is different now. The Challenge is over. He doesn’t need to win...not that he ever really wanted to. Not after meeting her.

            So, now it’s this. And he doesn’t much care. There’s no changing his natural charisma though. 

            “Dreams will do that to you. Even when we wake, they have such a tight hold on us that they sometimes refuse to let go.” He glances around, taking in the circus for the millionth time, and he chuckles. The glint in his eyes insists that he knows more than he’s letting on. Not one of the performers or staff in elaborate costumes, he’s easily mistaken for a patron, but he knows the tents better than anyone. So many of them are his miraculous creations. He and his counterpart are the very heart of the circus. Though, it can be argued that she’s much more heart than he is. “And then we build temples to them,”

             Le Cirque des Rêves. 

                                                                                 A temple of dreams, indeed.

            “Are you awake tonight?”

Hieu Minh Nguyen’s Not Here ( accepting ) . @sigrvif​

[harrydracobang]

Harry/Draco Big Bang Week #1 Round-Up

Below you'll find a round-up of all of our amazing submissions that have posted during our first week of @harrydracobang​! 

We hope you’ve been enjoying all the novel-length Drarry and amazing art so far, and we want to thank everybody who has been following the fest and supporting our participants with comments, kudos and recs! You are amazing and we know for certain our fantastic artists and writers appreciate all your support! <3

The next fic will go up tomorrow, and we still have one more week of amazing fic and art, but for now, check our first week below to make sure you didn’t miss anything. Don’t forget to leave some love for our participants as you make your way through the submissions!

Make Yourself written by @anyaelizabethfic​ with art by @zigster-ao3​ [Explicit, 103k] Summary : Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can't help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof. -Zigster's Tumblr Art Post 1 -Zigster’s Tumblr Art Post 2

sweeten to taste written by @bigblackdogfic​ with art by @babooshkart​ [Explicit, 51k] Summary: It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more. -Babooshkart’s Tumblr Art Post

Graceless Heart written by @orange-peony​ with art by @chuckalart​ and @secretartlair​ [Explicit, 132k] Summary: Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry.

When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook.

Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

See How They Run written by @harryromper​ with art by @inveigler81​ [Mature, 51k] Summary: Harry’s living above the shop in Knockturn Alley, working as a private detective after a failed stint as an Auror, when he gets an invitation from Luna Lovegood to the last place he could have imagined: Malfoy Manor.

As Luna and Draco’s friends gather for the weekend, it isn’t only memories of wartime violence that surface. It seems that a lot of the guests have things they want to hide, including murder.

It falls to Harry to solve the mystery, and while he’s at it, to untangle his feelings for Draco Malfoy once and for all. -Inveigler81′s Tumblr Art Post 1 -Inveigler81′s Tumblr Art Post 2

Brave Though The Stars They Make Me written by @dwell-the-brave​ with art by @puncertainty​ [Mature, 108k] Summary: After the events at the end of his Sixth Year, Draco Malfoy has been kept all but prisoner in his childhood home, Malfoy Manor. Alone, terrified, and desperate for some way out, he begins to have strange dreams - dreams of Harry Potter. Are they a trick of his mind? Or are they a way to change his fate, and a chance at redemption? -Puncertainty's AO3 Art Post -Puncertainty's Tumblr Art Post

Nor All That Glisters written by @sweet-s0rr0w​ with art by @deancebra-art​ and @fantalf​ [Explicit, 110k] Summary: Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.

Stop taking the Felix? You must be joking… -Fantalf’s Tumblr Art Post

spins madly on written by asofthaven with art by @iaooa​ and Monotremata [Teen, 56k] Summary: As part of his probation, Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts to complete his N.E.W.T.s. Gobstones, the political machinations of the Hogwarts student body, and one Harry James Potter captures Draco’s attention instead. -Iaooa’s Tumblr Art Post

Chasing Shadows written by @manixzen with art by @avaeryn [Explicit, 93k] Summary: The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub.

A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers.

Home Truths written by @skeptiquewrites​ with art by @fantalf​ [Explicit, 67k] Summary: In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

On professional Quidditch, magical houses, hard choices, Life Debts, and inconvenient truths. -Fantalf’s Tumblr Art Post

The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets written by @iero0​ & @ladderofyears​ with art by @egggnoodles​ and @faevorite-main-blog​ [Explicit, 287k] Summary: Hogwarts is the very last place that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy want to return to after the war. The Castle feels claustrophobic and stifling. Both feel trapped within its walls.

Harry is traumatised by the war, by his sudden breakup from Ginny, and by the knowledge that his friends all know what they want to do with their life.

Meanwhile Draco is reeling. He has narrowly escaped an Azkaban prison sentence and is struggling under the strict rules of his probation. He doesn't know where his mother is, and finds himself a pariah among the other students.

The last thing that either student wants is mandatory Mind Healing. What has happened to them feels so big and devastating, that writing to a stranger feels farcical.

Even so, they are not given a choice.

Harry and Draco are both given a shared magical diary, and soon they begin writing letters to an anonymous fellow student.

Their letters, terse at first, grow longer as the days pass. Before long, each wizard confesses their secrets and their fantasies, their wishes and their dreams.

What will happen when their true identities are exposed? Will their vulnerable new relationship be destroyed before it has even begun? -Egggnoodles Tumblr Art Post

A Sense of Scale written by @fantalf​ with art by @dragontamerdame​  [Mature, 71k] Summary: Potter merely shrugged, as if it was nothing. After all, it wasn’t his life’s work. “You can try to win it over.” Draco snapped, “What?!” “The school. Win it over.” “How the fuck do I win a school over, Potter?! It’s a bloody school, not a person!” And he didn’t win people over that easily, overall. “I don’t know. Use your charms. I know you to be very inventive.” —— In which Draco spends an obscene amount of time thinking of new nicknames for The Living Git, lying to himself and using his charms to seduce an extremely uncooperative sentient school.

Independent Art: Homage by @cambiodipolvere​ [General] Summary: A space between dangling feet, less than a foot.

[doctorstephenvincentstrange]

What If S1E4 Meta: The True “Heart”

The same way Stephen couldn’t let go of Christine in the fourth installment of What If...?, I haven’t been able to shake this episode off and out of my head since watching it. I’m pretty sure it’s put me through the grieving process. Lately, it’s been haunting me like a ghost, and while mentally revisiting it for the fourteen millionth time, I realized something BRUTAL that I just had to share ASAP!

Hear me out, homies. What if...

The running theme and title of the episode was Stephen Strange losing his “heart.” But although the setup and storyline seems to suggest the euphemism refers to Christine Palmer, it doesn’t! The “heart” of Stephen Strange is not the girl of his dreams he lost in that car accident, but the greater man he had gained.

OK LISTEN. Let me have a shot to show you what I see (even in shite quality, pardon my crappy screenshots). Let’s start with the DS1 recap, 'cuz I’m still not over the first movie, either, and it’s relevant.

Like the watcher explained, after the devastating and tragic death of the love of his life, Stephen Strange began to look for answers. Not different from Stephen Strange of the sacred timeline, he was obsessed with reversing the great loss and trauma he’d endured. It was with the same perfectionism that made him a great surgeon, that Stephen sought the power to “find his own way back.”

... By any means necessary. 

They both discover that “power” they were searching for when they stumble upon time magic. However, Stephen is lectured that time magic is something that could risk the stability of the universe, and should never be done lightly and certainly never for the sake of one person over all others. Although harm is not his nature and Stephen doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he struggles to give up on his quest to heal his hands, or alternatively, to resurrect Christine. He was told a solution wasn’t out there, but found it in the Book of Cagliostro.

Despite every person that told him it couldn’t be done, Stephen can’t accept that. He won’t admit there’s nothing that can be done, there has to be something he can do. He’s conceited with the delusion he can alter his past to better his present. And he won’t be swayed of it.

But when the Ancient One fell, Stephen Strange rose to take her place and fend against the invading Dormammu. He saw for the first time the world that was so much bigger than him, that he could do so much good for, more than good only for himself. He saw the millions of lives that had not yet been lost to tragedy he could prevent and save from it, even if not what hardships had already been done and could not be undone in his own life. Things he could save, not fix.

And it wasn’t his own life he saved with that time magic in the end, but earth itself. And Stephen Strange became something much bigger than himself. No matter what he’d lost in that car accident, he learned there was still much more he could gain, regardless of what he’d lost. He didn’t need to fix his hands. They were still good.

Better than his brilliant mind, was his beautiful heart. 

His capacity for goodness, not greatness.

And yet, for all the good he’d achieved and learned, on the two year anniversary of Christine’s death, Stephen can’t help but get sucked into his past, and in a moment of weakness, allow his grief power over him once more. He can’t stop reliving the past. He loops it over and over again, trying to reverse fate, trying to find a way to spare Christine and find that “miracle” that must exist to spare her.

The Ancient One has sensed his presence and meddling with the Eye of Agamotto, and warns Stephen that the path he had set himself on would lead him only to more pain. When Stephen refuses to be reasoned with, the Ancient One brandishes him with a single blow before he escapes into the past. He thinks she missed. She didn’t.

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TO BLAME! DARLING YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME!

But *ahem* seriously, notice how Stephen was struck mid center his chest, directly over his heart. It was in that moment that Stephen Strange lost his “heart,” as the Ancient One had knocked it out of him, just as she had knocked him out of his own oversized head when they first met. Theory: she cast a spell to separate Stephen’s heart from his mind, the two halves that make one complete man.  

Because even if Stephen Strange’s mind was still set on Christine Palmer, his heart had been changed, and there was still hope for it. And Stephen Strange’s heart had enough with “living in the past for one day,” and chose instead to share drinks with Wong.

Meanwhile, Stephen’s “mind” searched the Library of Cagliostro for a way to reverse an absolute point and save Christine. Eventually, he found the answer he was looking for. He needed more power, that could be obtained by otherworldly creatures. Now, harm is not in Stephen’s nature. On his first attempt, he actually tries asking “nicely,” and ends up getting ass kicked.

O’Bengh, the librarian of the books of Cagliostro, patches up his body and tries to warn Stephen. He may have lost his heart, but if he he keeps going at this rate, he was well on his way to losing his mind.

But Stephen didn’t heed those words of warning. He distorted his body, darkened himself with every sacrifice he made for Christine’s sake. So caught up in the memory of Christine’s greatness, Stephen had forgotten he’d once had one of his own. Christine was all he saw. 

So obsessed with her, he lost himself.

When Strange returns to O’Bengh’s side, the librarian has aged and is dying. He reveals the passage of centuries Stephen has spent devoted to this madness. As someone Stephen thinks of as a friend passes away, Stephen can’t think to cherish these last moments or listen carefully to his final words. All he can think is to use his magic to spare O’Bengh, which O’Bengh refuses, trying one last time to reach through to Stephen before giving up and leaving hope to the “heart” to be strong enough to withstand and stop him.

*Wink, wink, wink.* Do you see it now?

Now, onto the confrontation between heart and mind. Stephen’s mind can’t achieve anything if his heart isn’t in it, and I love the symbolism of that. He must get it on board first, unite on both fronts.

Stephen’s heart can recognize that this isn’t love, but the work of his broken mind lost in a delusion. And Stephen’s so far gone down the rabbit hole, he won’t even listen to his heart. Instead he ignores it, even burns the cloak of levitation... the very symbol of his finding something new that could uplift him after spending so long down on his knees in the past... and he burnt it to ash. When his heart won’t be persuaded, he resorts to trickery, attempting to con his heart with the same delusion that haunts his mind. It’s the same Christine that Stephen first was hung up imagining when he picked up the eye of the Agamotto and got himself into this mess, his trump card.

But again, the heart cannot be deceived. It knows Christine is dead, and it realizes the fantasy his mind is pursuing is not the same as the Christine they once knew and loved. More importantly, his heart remembers that there are other people who need him now, people that are not beyond saving. And the mind is done playing.

If his heart won’t come willing, then he’ll just have to beat it into submission until it can’t make a single sound of protest, and then swallow it whole. Stephen makes the ultimate sacrifice the Ancient One had tried so hard to prevent, and abandons that heart she saw so much potential in and inspired her to teach him.

This episode AMAZINGLY tackles the narcissism and arrogance that hides in specific shades of grief and depression. In believing our problems are greater than anyone else’s, that no one else could understand as Stephen insisted “they didn’t know her!” The selfishness that comes with refusing to see the world or those around you that still need you and choosing instead to chase the memory of the ones you’ve already lost, who are beyond saving. If we choose those delusions over our reality, in the end, we will lose everything, and the ones who will pay the price for your arrogance won’t be you, but the ones you loved. Even the memory of the one you loved, that you twisted to fit your mold. There’s a selfishness in seeing only the bad of what was rather than the good of what could come.

Unless you want to end up alone inside a cold and empty shell, maybe it’s time to listen to your heart, and move on.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Kanato Route ー Chapter 3

ー The scene starts on the Carnival’s venue

Kanato: Teddy? Hey...Where are you...? Where have you gone, Teddy!?

Yui: Haah...Haah...Teddyーー!

( It’s good we came looking for Teddy ever since he went missing from the dress shop but... )

( Will we truly find him...? )

Kanato: Uu...Teddy...Why...? Where are you!?

Teddy, come on...Show yourself...

Yui: ( Kanato-kun’s in total distress as well (1), so we really have no other choice but to look for him right now, do we? )

( But... )

Say, Kanato-kun? Can Teddy walk?

Kanato: Eh...?

Yui: I mean, according to what the shop lady told us earlier, he walked out by himself.

However, I was wondering if he was truly capable of opening the door by himself and just waltzing out....

( Up till now, I’ve only ever seen Kanato-kun carry him around in his arms so I wonder if he can even move by himself? )

Kanato: Are you crazy...?

Yui: ...?

Kanato: Of course he can’t!!

Yui: ...!!

Kanato: What makes you believe Teddy could walk on his own!? Please stop spouting such utter nonsense!!

...Uu...Teddy...Where are you...?

Don’t leave me, Teddy...

Yui: R-Right...I’m sorry, Kanato-kun.

( Anyway, with Kanato-kun’s current state of mind being the way it is, I’ll try and search this area a little longer. )

Ah!?

( That back silhouette...Teddy!? )

Kanato-kun! Look! Isn’t that Teddy?

Kanato: Eh? ...Ah...!

Teddy! It’s me! Teddy...!

Yui: ( ...Teddy’s floating? )

( Anyway, we have to go after him! )

Kanato: Wait, Teddy!

Yui: Ah...Kanato-kun, wait!

ー The two of them chase after Teddy as the scene shifts to Milton’s Doll House

Kanato: Teddy...Teddy...?

Yui: Stay calm, Kanato-kun. I’m pretty sure he went this way...

( As to be expected of the Demon World though. Nobody would bat an eye at the sight of a stuffed animal floating or moving around. )

( This shop...They’ve got a bunch of plushies lined up so I wonder if it’s a toy store? )

( But...When there’s so many dolls and stuffed animals in one place...It’s a little scary. )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( !? ...I could have sworn that doll moved a little just now... )

( Oh no, this place is kind of strange... )

Kanato: Teddy!? Are you here!? Hey, answer me!

...

Eh? ...Why? Why would you say that?

Yui: Eh? Kanato-kun, what are you...?

Kanato: You keep quiet!!

Yui: ...!! S-Sorry...

( Kanato-kun...Is he talking to Teddy perhaps? )

Kanato: Tell me, why are you saying you won’t return to my side?

We’ve been together this whole time...So why?

Yui: ( There’s just no way, right...? I can’t hear anything after all. )

( Besides...Uu, I feel like the dolls are looking our way. This store really is creepy after all! )

Kanato: That’s not true. I would never...think of her as more precious than you, Teddy!

I won’t deny that she belongs to me but...How could I ever compare her to you!?

Okay? So, Teddy...Let’s go back together?

Ah...Wait...!

ー Kanato starts running away

Yui: Ah, Kanato-kun!!

Kanato: Take a look, Yui-san. Here...I can hear Teddy’s voice from here.

Yui: This is...Some sort of entrance?

It looks like a door, but there isn’t a doorknob anywhere...We can’t open it like this.

Kanato: No way...Then how did Teddy go inside!?

Yui: I don’t know that either...

( Besides, it seems highly likely we wouldn’t be able to get back out once inside, so I’m scared... )

Kanato: Hey, Teddy? Are you in there?

I can’t live without you...

*Creaaaaak*

Yui: Eh...?

( The door opened by itself... )

Kanato: ...! You’re in there, aren’t you? Teddy, come out!

Yui: ( I wonder if Kanato-kun’s feelings got through? ...I’m glad. )

( That being said, I wonder why Teddy did all of this? )

( Hm? Something came out...Is this a reaching tool? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah!?

Kanato: Yui-san! Watch out!

*Thud*

Yui: ( Kanato-kun...! )

ー Both of them get locked inside the room

Yui: ( We’re...Inside that room? We were pulled in by a great force, I wonder what that was...? How creepy. )

 ( There’s a bunch of stuffed animals and French dolls lined up...What an impressive number. )

Kanato: Say, where are you...? Ah, Teddy! I finally found you!

ー Kanato runs over to Teddy

Kanato: Why did you leave me without a single warning? ...How could you...

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Eh? This will be your new home from today onwards?

I don’t want you to move to a doll house! I’d be lonely!

Yui: Doll house...?

( This wasn’t a toy store? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Eh...?

( It should be just Kanato-kun and I here...So who tapped my shoulder just now? )

...!?

Rabbit: ...

Yui: ( The rabbit plushie is moving...How...? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!!

Kanato: What’s wrong!?

Yui: Kanato-kun, help me! O-One of the stuffed animals grabbed my arm...!

Kanato: You little...Get your paws off what belongs to me!

ー Kanato shakes off the rabbit doll

Rabbit: ....

Kanato: Are you guys the ones who called Teddy over here as well?

I won’t just let you steal what is mine!

*Rustle*

Rabbit: ...

Kanato: Eh? 

You won’t harm us...? Is this...cake?

There’s so many of them as well...? Can I really have them all?

Rabbit: ...

Kanato: I see...Fufu...Thank you very much.

Yui: Kanato-kun, you can understand what the plushies are saying?

Kanato: You can’t hear their voices?

Apparently this doll house is the home of these stuffed animals.

Rabbit: ...

Kanato: The rabbit over there will serve us some tea. See? ...It smells wonderful...

*Pshhhhh*

Yui: ( It does smell nice but... )

Is this safe to drink?

Kanato: Who knows...I wonder. Please test it for me.

Yui: Eh...!?

Selection

→ Have a sip (☾)

Yui: I have to drink it?

Kanato: That’s what I said just now, no? Did you not hear me?

Yui: ( I did but...What should I do? Well, it does smell lovely and looks delicious as well. )

*Cling*

Yui: ( ...Just a sip can’t do much harm, right? )

Nn...

Kanato: Fufu...How is it?

Yui: Delicious...This tea is really good!

Kanato: ...I see. In that case, I shall have a taste as well.

→ Don’t drink it

Yui: No way...I-I can’t drink this.

Kanato: Why not?

Yui: I mean, I don’t know what the doll is saying but it’s a little scary.

Kanato: So you’re straight-up denying them, simply because you can’t communicate?

In other words, you must have been looking at Teddy in a similar way, no?

Yui: Of course not!

Kanato: ...Haah, you are the worst.

Yui: Fine, I’ll drink it! I’ll drink it, okay?

( Here goes nothing...! )

*Cling*

Yui: ( Huh...? It’s delicious... )

Yui: ( In which case, these cakes are probably the real deal as well? They look somewhat fake though. )

Nn...

( Ah, it’s sweet...It’s real cake. Somehow it feels like I’m inside a dream! )

Kanato: Is it good?

Yui: Yeah...It’s delicious. Why don’t you have a taste as well?

Kanato: Yes. That is a fine idea as well, but please look over there.

Yui: ( There’s a small stage in the middle of an area decorated with cute props... )

Is something about to begin?

Kanato: Yes...It seems like the dolls will perform a dance for us.

Yui: A dance?

( Uhm...Those who went on stage are a rabbit, a cat and a duck? )

( Ah, music started playing...Fufu, how cute. )

How very cute, right, Kanato-kun?

Kanato: Yes, exactly. I can tell they are trying to give us a good time.

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: ーー Hm? What’s wrong, Teddy?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: ...Fufu. Yui-san, Teddy is asking you for a dance.

Yui: Eh? Me?

Kanato: Yes, of course. You wouldn’t possibly refuse, right?

Yui: But I’ve never danced before?

Kanato: In that case, I definitely want to see it. Come on, Teddy.

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah...Teddy?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Please show me your interpretation of a dance. ...Fufu, I’m very much looking forward to this.

Yui: No way...

Kanato: Well then, the song is about to start. Please try your best to avoid utterly humiliating yourself.

Explanation: The player dances to the beat with Teddy. Follow the instructions on the bar at the very top of the screen and press the arrow pointing into the same direction at the right time.

You can play this game in EASY, NORMAL or HARD mode.

Kanato: Heeh...That was quite painful to watch, but I suppose you get a passing grade.

Yui: Really? Thank god...

Kanato: Yes. However, Teddy was a million times better than you.

Please be aware that your performance was nothing to brag about.

Yui: Yes...But, thank you still.

( Uhm...He did sort of compliment me, right? )

Kanato: Oh? What did you guys just say...? You want to see us dance?

I can imagine why you would ask me but...Aah, I see how it is. 

You are testing to see what kind of dance I could pull off while dragging my luggage along, no?

Yui: ( Again with the luggage...That really is a horrible way to put it. )

Kanato: What do you say, Yui-san?

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: If you insist on dancing together, I will take it into consideration.

Of course, I will lead you?

Yui: ( Kanato-kun will lead me...I’m honestly a little intrigued now. )

I-I’m counting on you then...

Kanato: Haah...Excuse me?

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: Get down before me and beg for it. I’m sure you’ve seen someone do that before, no?

Yui: ( Ah...I have seen that in movies and such. Uhm, you move one leg to the back and bend your knee, then clutch onto the hem of their trousers... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Yes, this should do the trick, right? )

Kanato: Well, you didn’t have to go as far as to grab my clothes but...

Yui: Eh? Really?

Kanato: Yes...Honestly, you are such a disgrace.

However, well, I suppose it is not half bad as a way to show respect towards your Master.

Well then, Yui-san, your hand, please?

Yui: Yes.

Kanato: ...Move a little closer, please.

Yui: Yes. Uhm, like this?

Kanato, No, more...

Yui: Wah!

Kanato: Fufu...About this much.

Yui: ( When we’re this close...I feel like he might hear my heartbeat. )

Well then, turn please.

Yui: ( T-Turn? Uhm... )

*Rustle*

Kanato: Why do you spin around so vigorously? ...That unrefined touch is truly very fitting of you, and very unsightly.

Yui: ( I was only trying my hardest because I didn’t want to lag behind... )

Kanato: Hmph...

Yui: I’m sorry...

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Wait, huh? I wonder why Teddy is clinging to my feet? )

Kanato: Teddy, we’re dancing right now. Why would you cling onto her like that?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: We’ll be done in a few minutes, so have some patience, okay?

*Rustle*

Kanato: Eh? What’s wrong, Teddy?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: ...You feel frustrated? Why? Because I’m a better dancer than you?

Please don’t say that. This isn’t a competition, you know?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Teddy, why would you say such things?

Yui: ( I wonder what’s wrong with Teddy? )

Kanato: ...Please cut it out, Teddy.

First you run off by yourself, then you start saying all of these weird things...

Why are you so set on troubling me?

Why do you keep on rebelling against me!?

Teddy or not, I won’t let that slide!

Yui: ( Kanato-kun... )

*Rumble rumble*

Yui: ( Huh? ...Isn’t this room shaking somewhat? )

( Also, the dolls have stopped moving all of a sudden, now laying across the floor... )

( ...What is happening? )

Kanato-kun, this room is behaving strangely...!

Kanato: You shut up!

Teddy, why do you do this?

Are you trying to cause me trouble? If that’s the case, what’s your reasoning?

Teddy: ...

Kanato: Eh? ...Teddy?

Why would you cry?

Yui: ( He’s wiping his eyes but...I don’t see any tears. )

( However, Kanato-kun can hear Teddy’s voice apparently, so he might actually be crying. )

Teddy: ...

Yui: ( He just stomped his feet against the ground...Could he be angry? )

Kanato: Why are you mad at me? If you keep acting so selfishly, I truly won’t forgive you!

*Rumble rumble*

Yui: ( Another quake...Ah! )

*Shatter*

*Splash*

Kanato: ...!! Yui-san, come here!

ー Kanato pulls her close

*Rustle*

Yui: ...!

Hey, Kanato-kun? What is Teddy saying?

Kanato: I don’t understand either.

But...He’s definitely the one in the wrong here.

Yui: Kanato-kun...

Teddy: ...

ー Teddy moves away

Yui: Ah, Teddy? Say, where are you going?

Kanato: Hold it, Teddy! Yui-san, let’s go after him!

*Rustle*

Yui: W-Wait! Kanato-kun, you’re hurting my hand!

( Teddy left through the door in the blink of an eye. )

( Is this the doll house’s doing? Or maybe...Teddy is the one behind it? )

( I wonder what is causing him to act so defiant towards Kanato-kun...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Yui is rather vague with her words and simply says この調子 or ‘kono choushi’ which means ‘this state’. 

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 2

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 4]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ AYATO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ YUMA]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ AZUSA]

[jisungsmochi]

rest your love - lee haechan

don’t worry!! i didn’t forget about this series hehe,, i personally really liked this one!! i’m probably going to try and write more often!

anyways pls enjoy,, i’ll link my masterlist for the other parts of this series (nct dream as ‘the vamps’ songs)

word count: 2.2k 

summary: “when the world gets loud, baby you can rest your love on me”

haechan never understood why people liked to be chased. he thought that all he needed to do was ask someone out and boom, a beautiful relationship. until he befriends you, and learns that sometimes people just need a shoulder to lean on, before they can rest their love on someone.

//

I see you move, so I do understand

Why you get attention?

I hear you talk, but I don't comprehend

Why I get no mention?

“it’s physically impossible to dislike me, i’m just a catch” haechan brags while walking to his first college class, his friends, renjun and jaemin trailing behind him.

“just because everyone liked you in high school, doesn’t mean people will in college. it’s a completely different ball game” renjun rolled his eyes at how overly optimistic and delusional his friend was being.

“ah let him live, he’ll find out soon enough” jaemin chuckles softly as he and renjun wave to haechan,  scurrying off to their own lectures.

haechan shrugs, not taking in any of his friends words. he stumbled into the classroom, scanning for an empty seat. he quickly made his way to a spare desk, pulling out all his materials. just as the tutor walked into the room, his eyes met those of, who he believed, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. you flaunted your way to the last empty seat, which happened to be next to the awfully cheery boy, smiling at you.

you weren’t having the best day, immediately regretting your choice of a desk mate. as soon as you sat down, haechan was a blabbering mess. he shot questions left and right at you, despite the fact you barely responded to any of them. you just assumed he wanted to make friends fast, or he was just a chatterbox. “so how are you doing on this fine day?” he mutters to you, but received a stern glare in response. you tilted your head to the front of the room, zoning in on your tutor. haechan would lie if he said he didn’t feel slightly deflated. usually he had no problem making conversation with strangers. but you were so cold, so uninterested, it really hurt his ego. maybe renjun was right, not everyone would like him. but haechan was an unbelievably stubborn optimist. he was going to befriend you, no matter how long it took.

//

And you know, you know where to find me

Yeah, you know where to go when you're looking for love

And you know, you know where I'm hiding

Yeah, you know

it had been over three weeks since haechan first met you and you still wouldn’t budge. you only spoke to him during group tasks, other than that you continued to ignore his advances. haechan got the message loud and clear that you weren’t going to pay him attention. it took a toll on his own self confidence, until renjun gave him a stern talking to,

“god don’t let her get to your head, dude!! she’s awful for not wanting to be friends with you”

haechan pouted, “but she’s so pretty, i can’t just ignore her”

at that moment, he received a notification on his phone.

y/n: is this haechan? i think you took my notes by accident

his eyes widened, how did you even get his facebook account?

he scrambled around his room, looking into his backpack and surely enough, there were your notes, prettily written up.

haechan: hello! i do have your notes, i can meet you somewhere to hand it back? maybe the cafe? we can get something to eat!

renjun was now peering over haechan’s shoulder, too invested in this interaction.

y/n: no it’s fine, just give it to me next class, thanks

after reading your message, renjun bursted out laughing.

“dude that’s brutal, she’s something else” haechan fiddled with his phone, glaring at the other boy. he clicked on your profile, sending you a friend request as he scrolled through your posts. he saw that your friends had wished you a happy birthday, almost a year ago. he then realised it was in a few days...

“i have the perfect plan to get her to notice me” haechan smirks, renjun rolling his eyes,

“you’re ridiculous”

//

it was a friday afternoon, when haechan stumbled into class. you looked over at him, expecting some type of greeting, but you didn’t hear a peep from the boy.

strange, you thought to yourself.

as you were preparing for the lesson, haechan pulled something out of his bag. you looked over, noticing a small pink box now placed on your side of the table. you raised your eyebrow at him, in which he whispered,

“happy birthday, y/n”

your face froze. how did he know it was your birthday?

you looked back at the small box, slowly moving your hands to open it. to your surprise, there was a red velvet cupcake, decorated with a ton of rainbow sprinkles. there was a tiny picket that said:

“happy birthday, cutie!”

you couldn’t hide your smile, which only made haechan swoon even more. you weren’t the type to make a big deal out of your birthday, but this gesture from haechan truly made your day. you bit your lip softly, eyes meeting his.

“t-thankyou, haechan. i really appreciate this” you smiled at him softly, not caring that you were now on speaking terms with him.

“anything for you, y/n” he cheerfully responded, turning his attention to the front of the room.

maybe lee haechan was worth letting in...

//

the days following, haechan would spam you with random texts throughout the day. initially you would have been annoyed, but after his generous birthday gift, you started to enjoy his company. although you wouldn’t say it to his face, you silently appreciated him.

“how is my beautiful, y/n doing?” he smirked as he walked with you after class. he’d always compliment you, each time making you gush inside.

“i’m alright, have a ton of homework to do though” you sigh, thinking back to the stack of work you had on your desk.

“oh poor thing! do you want to copy my work? i have it here right now i ca-“

“no, haechan, it’s okay. if i need help, i’ll just...call you or something” you paused, looking over at the boy whose eyes just lit up like a christmas tree.

“of course you can call me! call me anytime you want!” he exclaimed. you shake your head softly at him as you both continued walking.

once haechan met up with renjun and jaemin again, he couldn’t stop gushing about you.

“...and then she said i could call her! well she said she’d call me, but same thing” he explained your interaction to his two friends as they were eating at a local diner.

“so romantic” renjun sarcastically comments, causing jaemin to elbow him slightly.

“i think it’s a good step! i mean atleast she’s talking to you now” jaemin chimed in, feeding into his friend’s cheerful nature.

“yeah! i have a lot of hope for us” haechan smiles to himself, in which jaemin and renjun looked over at eachother before rolling their eyes.

you did end up calling haechan that night, as you were stuck on the very last question of the homework.

“y/n, it’s hard to explain, let me just send you my answer” haechan insisted,

“no, i feel guilty” you sigh, placing down your pen.

“it’s really okay, i want to help you” you bit your lip, eventually giving in.

“okay fine, but i’ll owe you something in return” you agree, hoping whatever he wanted wouldn’t be too bad.

“hmmm how about going to the movies with me this weekend? i know you wanted to see the new zombie one that just came out” he suggested. although you were shocked he was practically asking you on a date, were more shocked he remembered you talking about this movie.

“do you really think that is proportionate to what you’re doing for me?” you roll your eyes playfully, finding his advances quite endearing.

“yep!! take it or leave it” you hesitated for a moment, what’s the worst that could happen?

“okay fine, you have yourself a deal” you replied. haechan quickly put himself on mute (or so he thought), letting out a loud ‘YES!’, before returning to the call. you had heard everything, softly chuckling to yourself.

he was pretty cute.

//

That when the stars go out, you can rest your love on me

And when the world gets loud, baby, you can rest your love on me

“that ending was terrible” you pouted as you left the cinema with haechan.

“it wasn’t so bad, it could have been worse” he shrugged, leading you to the next location.

“hm i guess so, by the way, where are we going anyway?” you questioned, walking alongside him, observing your surroundings.

“this cool burger place i found online, here i’ll show you some photos” he pulled out his phone, swiping through the photos. you nodded along, agreeing to let him lead the way.

“y/n? is that you?” you heard a deep voice call, you head shot up, so did haechan’s.

“who’s that?” your mouth went dry. your body froze up. why was he here? why did he have to call out to you?

“oh my god it is you! long time no see” the mysterious boy approached the pair of you, completely disregarding haechan’s existence. he noticed how uncomfortable you were, eyes flickering between the boy and you. he placed his arm loosely around your back, the other boy’s eyes following in suit.

“oh i see, you’re dating someone. dang, i guess i missed my shot. he doesn’t seem like your type” the boy scoffed, arms folded as he stared you both down.

“w-we have to go” you finally bring yourself to mutter, pulling haechan along with you.

“y/n who was that?” haechan kept repeating, which only made you want to cry.

“he’s my ex, okay? just take me home” you sniffled, haechan immediately became concerned. he didn’t ask any further questions, driving you straight back to your place.

as he reached your house, he looked over at you, tears brimming your eyes.

“i-i’m sorry that our day was cut short. i was really enjoying myself. my ex and i ended on pretty bad terms and i would just like some time alone right now, i hope you understand” you sniffled, which made haechan’s heart ache.

“you don’t have to apologise. you know where to find me if you need me. i’ll be waiting for you to open up to me one day, y/n. however long it takes” he assures you, leaving you with a warm feeling in your stomach. you just nodded back at him, making your way into your house.

haechan sat in his car for a while, wishing he could take away all your pain.

//

you invited haechan to meet you at the local park. with no further questions, he rushed out of his room, eager to see you again. you waited patiently on the small bench, swinging your legs back and forth. you heard heavy footsteps approach, your eyes meeting those of the boy who radiated happiness.

“are you alright?” haechan starts as he takes a seat next to you, leaving a small gap between you both.

“y-yeah, i’m ready to tell you everything” you began,

“he and i ‘dated’ two years ago. i say ‘dated’ because well, i thought we were, but turns out he was just another player and i was just another pawn in his little game. it was my first relationship too, messed me up pretty bad. that’s why i tend to keep to myself, not really letting others in too much. he made me feel like every guy who gave me attention just wanted me for their own selfish needs” you sigh, eyes avoiding haechan’s. he wanted to hold your hand, but opted not to.

“he’s an asshole, you didn’t deserve that. i-i could treat you so much better i promise-“

“haechan, c-can we just slow things down?” you finally made eye contact with him, his face contorting into a confused expression.

“i know you like me, and i would be lying if i said i didn’t have a slight interest in you too. but i don’t think i’m ready for a relationship yet” you admit, worried for his reaction. but to your surprise, he didn’t feel sad or dejected at all. instead he smiled widely at you, leaning in closer.

“i’ll go as slow as you want. you can rest your love on me, whenever you need. i’m just glad to hear you like me too” he batted his eyelids, making you softly chuckle.

“thankyou” you whispered to him, moving closer so that your shoulders touched. the rest of the day was filled with random activities from the arcade, to a bike ride along the park’s trail and finally dinner. haechan came to realise that being with somebody wasn’t black and white. there was a grey area that lied in between. he didn’t care how long he needed to wait, all he knew was that he finally got you to like him. and that was enough to make him the happiest man alive.

[iwalc]

Take me home

Hi people! I hope you are all well! Here is a something I've worked on for a while. Uhm, I realise now that I have never posted anything I've written on here before, so I am a little nervouse, ngl. I've been into a horrible writersblock for over a year now and this is the firt piece I've even been able to finish, which also makes me kind of nervouse. Either way, here it is. I hope you'll like it, and if you do, pls let me know.

Wordcount: around 2500.

I haven't really proofread anything, so if there are anything that's a bit off, then I apologise.

Damn it. I lost. Again. Here I am pissed drunk in a bar, far away from home. Or... what's supposed to be my home. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast.

Almost a year ago I moved from home. It was sudden but necessary. I got into college in London and saw my opportunity to leave my abusive household. For years the mental abuse had just gradually gotten worse. Although I love my parents to bits, it was not a healthy surrounding and I needed a new perspective. I moved into a small apartment a few minutes from my college. The apartment wasn't really luxurious. But what could I expect with rent that cheap. It was alright. For me at least. Soon after the move classes started. The first few days were rough. A lot of new things, new people, new surroundings and I was all alone. You see, I am not a fan of new things. I'd rather be stuck with everything the same than have the winds of change knock everything I know to pieces. That's what I soon noticed. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Everything was to pieces. I've never felt so lost or scared.

After a while, these strange feelings of insecurity and fear decreased a bit. I started seeing people from my classes. We went to lunches, studied, went out on the weekends. For the first time in a long while it felt like my life was starting to get better. I felt alive, not only like I was just existing. I felt normal. I lived in a large city, in a tiny apartment, barely being able to pay rent, eating fish sticks and whatever else cheap food that Tesco happened to sell out, spending all money on weekends clubbing, listening to bands, laughing, getting shitfaced, having the time of my life.

On one of these nights, I met someone. Someone that would change my life drastically, and thank god it was for the better. It was an ordinary weekend. Me and the girls got ready for a night out, as usual. Only this time we were to meet Angela's boyfriend and his friends. Everyone was crazy excited. I tried to be, but as we have stated before, I'm not doing very well with breaking routines or new things, hence my increasing anxiety. To cut the chase, Angela's boyfriend had nice friends. Especially one of them. Brian. I don't really know what drew me to him. He just seemed so calm and safe. Somewhat on my level. The others, Angela, Jessica and Amanda, were all outgoing girls, finding it easy to talk and meet new people, having no trouble being in the centre of attention. I did not enjoy those types of things. I enjoyed letting others being in the centre of attention and them leading the way. I thrive in the shadows of other people and Brian seemed to be the same way. He was the quiet one, the one in the shadows. But he didn't seem shy. He sat comfortably in the booth, a beer in his hand, listening in to the conversations, taking part in them whenever it was needed. He seemed so calm, safe, secure. Something I craved. He was tall, green, welcoming eyes. Angela sat down beside her boyfriend, Roger, a blonde, seemingly handsome guy. Jessica was called over to Freddie, a dark-haired man, seemingly not afraid to stand in the centre of attention, he was very authentic and expressive. At first, I'd say he'd be a bitch, but he was so nice and welcoming. Such a sweetheart. Amanda sat down between Jessica and John and they got carried away with their conversation pretty quickly.

Me being me, trying to read the room, the new people, anxiously stood there, at the end of the table. My anxiety started to peak at this uncomfortable social situation. I had no idea what to do. I froze. The others seemed engulfed in their conversations and bonding and hadn't noticed my uncomfortable state. But Brian did. He seemed to understand and saw my anxiety. It was amazing how he just knew how to deal with it without scaring me off more. He redirected his attention towards where I stood. He calmly called my name. His voice. I've never ever felt more secure. After a few calls, and his hand gracing mine, I zoned in again and once again became aware of my surroundings. His touch. Warm. Soft. Peaceful. "Hey" he said softly, "would you like to sit down?" he asked as he carefully for a second took a hold of my hand, with me not showing any sign of uncomfort, he carefully guided me to sit down beside him, a soft smile gracing his lips. "I'm so sorry for zoning out like that, thank you" I quietly whispered. He once again took a soft hold of my hand, smiling, "Don't apologise, I understand". Something told me he did understand.

And ever since we met that night, at a pub in Kensington, he has made me feel at home. Safe. Comfortable. My pieces were glued together again. Brian was my everything. He still is. The last few months with him has been filled with such happiness and security I never ever thought I'd experience. I love him to bits. He understands me and my needs like no other. He knows how to take care of my anxiety attacks. He knows how to help me relax. He is my rock in a stormy ocean.

Until today. Earlier today, the pieces he glued together, fell apart, again. Today we moved in together. We figured it would help with our economic situation since we were both students. I mean, we love each other so why not. Well. This is why. I am once again falling apart. My pieces are flying away. I couldn't handle one more change. I've broken up with my family, moved away from home, started college, all in the period of 6 months. It was too much. And now this. I love him. But my world has been picked apart once more.

The whole day I've been feeling my anxiety increasing. Usually, Brian notices or I feel comfortable telling him, but this time I noticed how excited he was, I didn't want to hurt him with my bullshit. It's horrible feeling yourself falling apart but not be able to do anything about it. It was 7 pm and Brian was unpacking things in the living room while I sat on the sofa trying not to lose it. He kept talking about how happy he was and how this was a dream of his. How excited he was to share his life with me, to love me. All the while he was so happy babbling away, I was freaking out. To say the least.

My anxiety kept increasing and now I couldn't handle it anymore. I felt my breathing quickening, my hands and legs started to shake and tears started to stream down my eyes. I couldn't do this. What have I done? "Love? What do you think hanging this here?" Brian asked excitedly holding up a poster on the wall. I couldn't breathe. "Love?" Brian asked before he turned around. My knees were up to my chin, hands holding them in place, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my eyes. Brian was shocked to see me in this state of mind but wasted no time. He hurried up to me on the sofa. He sat down on his knees in front of me, his hands on my cheeks. "Love, look at me" he pleaded with a calm voice. "Love" he said, more firmly this time. "Shh you're okay, love, I got you" he said as I lifted my head to look at him. I was frightened. His beautiful, angelic face that earlier always brought me peace and comfort were now triggering my anxiety. I ran. I ran out of the apartment, down the staircase and out of the building. Before leaving the building I heard Brian calling my name, running after me.

That's where I am right now. I ran to a pub, the pub we met at. I'm drunk. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast. Wrapped up so consumed by all this confusion. With every thought I down a beer. "Could I get another one pls?" I slurred to the bartender. But no. No way I was going to drink more tonight. I don't know if it was intentional or not to go to the only pub in London where I'm recognisable since we go there all the time. Maybe I wanted to be found. The bartender declined and then went through a doorway to the kitchen. I heard him talking on the phone. He was talking about me. More than that I couldn't recognise and soon after my head hit the table and I was out.

I woke up in a bed. It took some time to locate where I was, but soon I noticed I was in our apartment. My head was killing me along with the anxiety and guilt. What the hell happened. I had no idea.

Soon enough Brian entered the room. I couldn't do anything. I barely dared to look at him. He looked exhausted. And there was something else, it shocked me that I couldn't decipher what it was.

"Hi" he calmly said as he strode to my side of the bed and set down a glass of water and aspirin.

"Hi" I vaguely answered.

The silence took over the room. I barely dared to move but did to take my aspirin and drink some well-needed water. Not letting my eyes of Brian, I watched as his tall body sat down on the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he calmly asked as his hand strode closer to me but he didn't dare to touch me, probably confused by my signals yesterday.

I met him halfway and took a hold of his large and warm hand. As soon as he felt my hand on his he held mine tighter and let out a breath I didn't know he was holding.

"I don't know how to answer that" you answered honestly.

Brian hummed and stroked my hand with his thumb, looking at our locked hands.

"You scared me" he whispered. Tears threatening to leave his eyes.

That hurt.

"I'm so sorry" I panicked and sat up, only to regret it as my head almost pounded you dead. "Ow," I winced as my free hand went to hold my forehead.

"Careful" Brian voiced as calmly as ever. His eyes scanned around the room, trying to muster the courage for what he was to say next. He cleared his throat. "Can we talk about what happened?" he almost whispered, taking my hand in both of his, stroking it with his thumbs.

Of course, he wants to talk about it. There is nothing strange about that. However, I rather not. What am I supposed to say? That I panicked, that his face suddenly made me uneasy? That... I don't know. Suddenly I felt his hand upon my cheek. I must've zoned out.

"hey, it's alright"

I let out a loud sigh, catching Brians attention. "Brian, it is not alright. I'm a mess. What I did wasn't alright." Tears were now streaming down my cheeks. Burning like fire. Brians weight shifted as he crawled onto the bed, laying down behind me, embracing me like never before. His arms around my aching stomach and my arms. His leg over mine. His chin in the crook of my neck, whispering calming sentences while my tears shook my body. His body warming mine. It's always so calming.

How can I be so damn lucky? I ran away from home, from my love, I got piss drunk at a pub, and still, he took me home, taking care of me, holding me, loving me like no other. It's suffocating in the best way.

The tears calmed down. "Brian, I want to come home", I sniffed, crampingly grabbing onto his large, warm hand. "I'm hurting. I'm so lost. Confused. Angry." the tears were now rapidly streaming down my face again as I poured my aching heart out. "I really had to get away from home to live my life, to get better. When I first got here I felt cheated. It was so hard and I've never been worse my whole life. I've never felt more alone, left out, beaten up." I kept rambling on. "I know, love, I know." Brian cooed into my neck, stroking my arm. "But you don't Brian. I can't seem to find my way home. I'm so lost." I said as tears wrecked my body. Brian, holding me, securing me, hushing me, whispering sweet things. "I don't even know how you put up with me. I'm so broken. I came to you with a broken faith, and you gave me more than a hand to hold." The first time I voiced my fear and insecurity about how Brian feel about me. I'm so scared he'll leave me. He's all I've got. "Love, shh, It's ok. Hey, listen to me." he started as he turned me so I could look at him. "I understand that you feel like you're lost, I really do. Everything you've ever known has changed in less than a year. Space will eventually make it better, time will make it heal, and soon enough you won't feel like you're haunted. You won't be lost forever!" He praised as his hand stroked my cheek. Emphasizing the last sentence. I won't be lost forever.

"I'm so scared Brian"

"I know baby" he embraced me, "I know."

"I need you, Brian, don't leave me please, you're all I've got." I cried into his chest.

"Baby I won't. I never could. I love you! I will hold you. I will take you home. I'll be here every step of the way. I'll be your home." He said as my body once more broke down in tears.

I know there must be somewhere better because he always takes me there. Maybe I've found my home. I think he's my home.

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Crawl Before You Walk

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: partying, drinking, forced kiss

Summary: Y/N has been friends with the Styles siblings for years. But when Y/N asks Harry for kissing lessons, their entire friendship is put on the line.

A/N: Harry is older in this fic than Gemma

I walk right into the Styles household. I’ve been friends with the Styles siblings since our day care days and it was never a problem for me to just come by after school for dinner or to hang out, their parents practically raised me, they’re more of a family to me than my own family. 

And that’s why I came over today. I need advice. Some help.

Harry Styles, is a senior, he’s like a big brother, one of my best friends, anytime Gemma and I get into some sort of shenanigans he’s there. Even though I’m about a year younger than him, we’ve bonded. I knock quietly on the door to his room, unsure if he’s even home. 

“It’s open,” I hear him call from inside, I push the door open to find him lying on his bed, no shirt on, sweat pants hanging low on his hips. He’s got one arm propped behind his head, the other reading some play. He looks up at me and smiles softly. “Hey Y/N. Gem will be home in a few. You can hang out if you want.” I sit on the edge of his bed, dropping my bookbag. 

“Actually….I’m here to see you,” He sets the book down on his chest, raising his eyebrow slightly. 

“Me?”

“Yeah.” He sits up, crossing his legs indian style. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks. I feel my cheeks heat up, this is so embarrassing. 

“There’s this...there’s this boy I like.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, nudging me in a teasing manner, I relax, I can do this. 

“He wants to take me out on a date.”

“So what’s the problem,” I bite my lip, hesitant to continue. “You can tell me,” he coaxes. I take a deep breath. 

“I’ve never been kissed before.” I say finally. I can’t bare to look at him, to embarrassed. “I wanted to ask you if maybe...maybe you could teach me?”

“Teach you how to kiss?”

“Well you’ve had lots of girlfirends-”

“I wouldn’t say ‘lots’-”

“So you have experience. I have none.” he sighs, running his hand over his face. I feel awkward, my hands begin to sweat as I wait for his answer.

“You really like this kid huh?” I nod. 

“A lot. I don’t want to mess this up.” He’s quiet for a moment longer, I debate whether or not to just tell him it’s a joke and to forget it. 

“Okay." he startles me. I didn’t think it’d be that easy. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Just this once.” he adds. I grin, he scoots back towards his headboard and I swing my legs up onto the bed, folding them beneath myself. 

“Thank you.” I say gratefully. 

“Don’t mention it...Like ever, to anyone after this okay?” I nod and he scoots closer to me now, I can smell his cologne and deodorant, he smells really good. Clean. “Everyone is different. Some people are good kissers, some are bad-”

“I’m probably bad.”

“Quiet.” he scolds me, before continuing his lecture. “Like I said everyone is different….But if this guy...If he tries anything you don’t like, you have the right to say no. You can tell him to stop.” He reaches up, brushing his fingers over my cheek gently. “Come here,” he whispers, I lean in, our lips meere inches apart. “He looks me in the eye, his eyes flicker to my lips from time to time. I feel something strange begin to vibrate within me. “You feel that?” he breathes against my lips, his breath is cool, and smells minty, I shiver. 

“Yeah.”

“Good. That’s a good sign.” slowly, tentativly, he presses his lips to mine. I don’t know what to do, I just sit there, letting his mouth move against mine, he pulls away, a small grin on his face. “You can kiss me back.”

“How?”

“Do what I do. Follow my lead,” I close my eyes this time as he brings his lips back to mine. I do what he says and move my lips against his, mimicking his actions. He reaches up, grasping the back of my head, the other hand gripping my lower arm. His lips are smooth and soft, pressing against mine over and over again. My hands grip the fabric of his sweats tightly. His tongue darts out, licking my bottom lip, I gasp and pull away. 

“Wow.” I say breathlessly. “What was that?”

“I was asking you for entrance.”

“Entrance?”

“To your mouth. Always ask. It’s not polite to just shove your tongue down someone’s throat.” we chuckle together, I feel something wet grow between my legs, I look back at him. 

“Can we try with tongue?” I ask. 

“Sure. C’mere.” I’m back in his arms, he kisses me slowly before licking me again, I open my mouth wide, moaning as his tongue begins to massage and wrestle mine. I continue following his lead, doing what he does. He sucks my tongue into his mouth and I squirm, unable to handle the growing warmth between my legs. He grabs my hips and I move, coming to sit in his lap. I run my fingers through his hair as he rubs his hands up and down my back. I’m nearly panting and desperate for relief from the tension building in me. I roll my hips slightly, causing him to stiffen. 

He pulls away too quickly, I chase his lips, only to open my eyes and see him grinning at me teasingly. 

“You’re a good kisser.” he compliments. 

“T...Thanks.” I stutter. “You are too.” we stare at each other, I’m still in his lap and I can feel something hard poking at me from his sweatpants. He reaches up to trace my bottom lip with his finger, I close my eyes again and lean into his touch. 

“Y/N...Y/N I-”

“Hey Harry! I’m home.” Gemma calls as we hear the from door open. I jump up from Harry's lap, straightening my clothes, he leans back cooly, resuming his position from when I first walked in. Gemma opens the door without knocking. 

“Oh Y/N you’re early.” I try to slow my pounding heart.

“Yeah. Harry said I could wait for you.”

“Well come on,” she nods towards the hallway, “I’ve got that dress for you to try on.” I pick up my book bag and follow her out of the room. Harry winks at me as I leave. 

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

I dream about the kiss with Harry for days after it happens. I always wake up feeling wet between my legs and a faint throbbing feeling. I try to get off. I rub my skin raw, push my fingers in and out of myself. Nothing works. I work myself so hard I’m barely breathing, face nearly purple. But no matter what I do I can’t seem to get off. Still, the dreams persist. 

I avoid Harry when I’m at his house. If we’re sitting at the dinner table I’ll converse with Gemma or his mom. I always duck into Gemma's room if I hear him coming down the hall. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or scared. He doesn’t seem to notice my growing awkwardness. He goes about his day as though nothing happened at all. 

“What is going on with you?” Gemma snaps me out of my head when she asks this. I look at her, she sits across from me, eating a nutella sandwich and studying me curiously. 

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to keep my voice normal. I take a bite of my apple sauce. 

“You’ve been acting really weird all week. Always ducking into my room and hiding around the house….Do you have a crush on Harry?” I choke on my apple sauce, looking at her through watery eyes. 

“No! Absolutely not!” she chuckles, taking a bite of her sandwich. 

“Good. Cuz I was gonna say...gross.” I smile, but in the back of my mind I wonder if she would think that about me and Harry….Probably. We all did grow up together. “Seriously though,” she looks concerned now, lowering her voice. “Is it your dad again? Do you need to stay with us indefinitely like last time?” I stiffen, shaking my head. 

A few years ago things got really, really bad with my parents. The police got involved and I was sent to live with the Styles while they got their shit together. 

“No...I’m fine honest.” she doesn’t look like she believes me. I reach out and place my hand over hers. “I’m fine Gem. Honest.” she doesn’t push anymore, and we eat in awkward silence for a few minutes. 

I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts, I nearly jump out of my skin when someone’s hands cover my eyes. “Guess who?” the voice asks. I can hear Gemma giggling across from me. 

“Jeff Goldblum,” I guess. The person snickers, moving their hands and sitting down beside me. It’s Jake. I feel my stomach churn with butterflies. 

“Damn. I wish I was Jeff Goldblum.” He high fives Dylan who’s sat beside Jas now, his arm around her. Jake’s focus is on me. He scoots close, he smells like Old Spice. “Haven’t seen ya around in a couple days.” I shrug my shoulders. 

“I like to change my route to class. Keeps things interesting.” He smirks, his lips are soft and pink. Smooth. I wonder if they taste like Harry's. He notices my gaze and puts his finger under my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. 

“Spontaneous. I like that….I got a question for you.” I can feel Gemma’s eyes on me, my heart is pounding, anxiety rolling over my shoulders. 

“Yeah?” 

“You wanna go to Dylan’s party Friday night? I can pick you up if you want.” I smile, feeling relieved and excited at the same time. 

“Sure…” he grins. “I’d love to.” 

“Yes.” he pumps his fist in the air. The bell rings, ending our lunch. I stand up and he takes my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine, he brings them to his lips and kisses the back of my hand. His lips are really soft. They feel nice. “I’ll see you Friday night.” Gemma is jumping with excitement as we throw our trays away and head towards our next class. 

Friday arrives almost too quickly. I haven’t actually spoken to Harry since the kissing lesson, but when I arrive at the Styles house he’s there, in the living room, on the phone.He hangs up as I come in. 

“Hey,” I smile and make a bee line for Gemma’s room. “Wow. Wow. Wow.” He stops me, stretching his arm out to block my path. “What’s going on?” 

“What?”

“You’ve been acting weird. Ever since….” he raises his eyebrows. I roll my eyes and scoff. 

“You’re crazy. I am not-” he grabs my chin and brings my lips to his. My eyes close instantly as he wraps his arm around my waist. When he pulls away I think I see stars. “I thought you said kissing lessons only one time.” he smirks, his nose brushes mine. 

“I changed my mind.” He pulls away from me, taking my hand in his. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He pulls me towards the couch in the living room, I sit down beside him, sinking into the cushion. I pull my legs up under myself. 

“We’re going to a party at Dylan’s tonight.” 

“Jake taking you?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you kissed him yet?” I shake my head. He pats my knee reassuringly. 

“Don’t be nervous. You’re a great kisser. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it?”

“What if he wants...you know...to do...more,” Harry's neck turns a light shade of pink, he clears his throat, shifting in his spot. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to Y/N.”

“I know that.”

“And if he tries to force you I will take care of that.” I smile at the thought of Harry protecting me. I shake my head. 

“The thing is that I want to do it. I want to have sex and fall in love and make out and things like that,” Harry listens, his hand still on my knee, “But I can’t even get off on my own. How in the hell would I get a guy off?”

“It’s not that hard.”

“That’s what she said.” he grins at me, happy I got the joke. “I’m serious though. I can’t even masturbate right...Is there something wrong with me?”

“No. Some girls have trouble. There’s nothing wrong with that….What do you think about when you do it?” I’m surprised and pleased with the turn this conversation has taken, I really can talk to Harry about anything. 

“I don’t know...I kinda just….go at it.�� he chuckles now, covering his mouth with his hand. HIs eyes crinkle and his whole body shakes. “What?” I ask offended. 

“You can’t just go at it….you need stimulation. To get turned on.”

“Oh.”

“So what turns you on?”

You. I think. I’ll never tell him that though. “I’m not sure.”

“What about the kissing….Did you feel anything when we kissed?” He’s looking at me the way he did when we first kissed. The first time he asked me if I felt something. I lick my lips, his eyes dart down and then back up to my eyes. I nod slowly. 

“Yeah. I felt warm.” 

“Aroused.” he says. 

“Aroused.” It sounds like a foreign concept coming from my mouth, the way it rolls off my tongue. 

“You’ll be fine. If you worry too much you won’t enjoy yourself.” he gets up from the couch and leans over me, pressing his lips to my forehead. I close my eyes, just being this close to him sends my stomach spinning. “If you need anything tonight. Even just a way out, call me. I’ll pick you girls up.” he drops his hand from me and walks away, leaving me alone on the couch. 

Dylan has a nice house. It’s big, and packed with people. The smell of sweat and alcohol and weed fills the air. I stayed by Gemma’s side most of the night, following her and Dylan around the house. Until Dylan whispered something in her ear. 

“Hey Y.N” Gemma pulls me to a corner and shouts in my ear. “I’m gonna go upstairs for a bit. You don’t have to wait for me.” I shake my head, waving her away, a druk couple stumbles past us. I hadn’t drank much at all tonight. 

“It’s fine I’ll wait. Have fun.” she winks at me and follows Dylan up the stairs. I find my way back to the living room. I stand awkwardly off to the side, watching people smoke and drink and act like idiots. It’s pretty amusing, the things people will do when they’re drunk. 

“Hey!” I feel a heavy arm drape over my shoulders. I look up to see Jake, smiling at me tipsily. His fingers brush over my bare shoulder. I’m wearing one of Gemma's dresses tonight. A sexy little off the shoulders black dress, it hugs my curves perfectly. “You enjoying yourself?” he asks. I nod my head and motion towards my ear, the music is loud, shaking the house with the base. Jake takes my hand, pulling me through the throngs of people, he leads me outside. 

“Ah..That’s much better,” I say, taking a deep breath. Jake stands in front of me. His eyes rake over my body. It bothers me, the way he’s looking at me. He tosses his empty beer can to the side and places his hands on my hips, he tips his head down so our noses brush. 

There’s no one around. Everyone else is inside, it’s a cold night. The wind raises the hairs on my flesh, giving me goosebumps. Not even Jake being this close can warm me. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous. You know that?” He doesn’t give me a chance to reply. He grabs my chin roughly and slams his lips to mine. His kiss is hard and rough. I slap at his shoulders as he pulls me closer, forcing his tongue into my mouth.I can barely breathe, my mind begins to cloud, I squirm, trying to get away. But he has me in a vice grip.  Panic seized me. He’s drunk and I’m alone, also quite a bit smaller than him. One of his hands slides down my back, barely brushing my ass. I shove at him, he staggers backwards, wiping his mouth. My mouth hurts and I’m shaking with fear. 

“Y/N!” I turn and run as fast as I can, kicking Gemma's heels off as I go. I’ll buy her a new pair later. 

My feet are sore and throbbing from pounding against the pavement, my body perspiring as I make my way up the steps to the Styles household. I’m exhausted, my adrenaline finally wearing off. I hope Jake isn’t mad at me. I think I overreacted. My mouth still hurts, I can still feel his slimy, tongue sliding down my throat. I grimace as I open the door and step inside quietly., The tv is on, someone’s up, I don’t pay attention to it. 

“Y/N,” I take a step back as a shadowy figure emerges from the living room. Harry walks towards me, his eyes wide with alarm. He reaches out and I rush into his arms. I’m scared and confused and embarrassed. Maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I thought every kiss would be like Harry's. I don’t know. Harry holds me close, rubbing my back and whispering to me soothingly. 

“You’re safe Y/N. You’re safe.”

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Valentine’s Day Surprise - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 5)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 

**

It was the morning of Valentine’s Day and sunlight made it’s way through the curtains and into the bedroom. Arms were wrapped around you and you could feel content breathing against your neck. You smiled realizing where you were and knowing it wasn’t a dream. You gently and as quietly as you can turn around so you’re facing your boyfriend. 

He was still sleeping so you contemplated on your next move. You didn’t know if you rather lay next to him and enjoy a lazy morning or go into the kitchen and make a special breakfast. You ended up deciding on the best of both worlds, staying there for a few more minutes before going downstairs. 

“Whatever you’re doing, stop,” Harry mumbled. 

“Excuse me?” You giggled, looking down at him. 

“You’re overthinking something,” he said, pulling you closer to him. 

“How do you know that?” You laughed. 

“Because I just do,” he said. “Now, what are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing huge,” you said. “Just whether I should stay here or go cook up some breakfast.” 

“Here, definitely stay here,” he smirked. 

“Why? You were sleeping, plus you still have your eyes closed,” you said. “I know I look a hot mess in the mornings, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” 

“You don’t,” he said. “You might smell a bit, but you look beautiful.”

“Fuck you,” you groaned hitting with a pillow. 

“Heeey!” He whined. 

“What?” You said innocently. 

“Oh it’s on now,” he smirked, tickling your sides. 

“Harry! Stop!” You whined trying to move out of his reach. 

“You started it,” he pointed out. 

“You told me I smelled,” you pointed out. 

“Well... I mean,” he shrugged. 

Rolling your eyes, you decked him with a another pillow. 

“Oomf,” he groaned. 

You giggled jumping up out of the bed and running out of the room. 

“So, that’s how it’s going to be huh?” He laughed chasing after you. 

You let out a screech as you run through the house, but low and behold you he wraps his arms around you, tickling your sides. 

“Why are you naked?” You laughed. 

“I believe the real question is why aren’t you naked,” he smirked kissing your cheek. 

“Because I get cold,” you answered. “Duh.” 

“I’ll keep you warm,” he whispered against your neck. 

"Oh, is that right?” You asked. 

“I’ll be more than happy to show you,” he said. 

“Lead the way,” you smirked. 

**

A few hours later, you and Harry were sitting out in the backyard enjoying your Valentine’s Day brunch. Yes, it involved the cheesy heart shaped pancakes, or at least the attempt at them. There was a ton of fruit and your other favorites. Harry made mimosa’s that you two sipped on well after you finished eating. 

There was a swing out in backyard the two of you were cuddled up. His hand ran up and down your legs as you laid your head on his shoulder. He smiled kissing your head. 

“You know, it’s strange to think this time last year, we hadn’t even spoken to one another in years and now here are together,” you said. “I can’t believe how much as changed for us in the last few months.” 

“I know,” he smiled. “I wish I would have reached out to you sooner. Then we could have had more moments like this.” 

“Yeah, but now this just means we get to make up for lost time,” you smiled. “Oh, wait. Your presents.” 

Before Harry could protest, you had already gotten up to head inside. Harry followed you and was surprised to see you standing there with a red and pink gift bag. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, “We’ve always gotten each other Valentines. Well.. except during the time we weren't really talking... but that doesn't count,” you said. 

He laughed taking the bag from you and opening it up. First he took out the teddy bear and he quickly laughed, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I love this,” he laughed. “Where did you find it?” 

“A shop round my house,” you giggled. “I couldn’t resist when I saw it.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled kissing your head.

“There’s more,” you said. 

He took out his favorite candies and the tiny bag holding the bracelets you had gotten. He put the other items down as he opened up the drawstring bag to reveal the beaded bracelets. He smiled when he noticed your and his first initial with a + sign in between. 

“I added that little touch,” you smiled. “We have matching ones... just like when we were younger.” 

“I love you,” he smiled pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“I love you, too,” you smiled widely. 

**

After spending the rest of the day in bed, watching movies, and just spending sometime together. It was time for Harry’s plan to be activated. You got out of the shower to a large box waiting for you on the bed. Harry was getting ready in the guest room and let you get ready in his room. You walked over and saw a note on the box. 

“Just a little something I thought you might like. Feel free to wear it tonight. Love, H.” 

You smiled opening the box and saw the most beautiful dress if you have seen at least in person. It was a little different than what you normally purchase for yourself, but you were looking forward to putting it on. You laid it out on the bed and of course, you needed shoes to pair it with. You did bring a few pairs of shoes, so hopefully you had a pair that looked okay with the dress. 

But before you worried about that, you went back into the bathroom to finish up your hair and makeup. Working from home, you hardly ever put on makeup and even if you did, it was only a little bit. But you really did like the moments you could go all out with your hair and makeup. 

Once you were done with that, you walked over to your suitcase taking out the shoes you had brought with you. Luckily, you had one pair that looked decent enough with the dress. You slipped the dress on and it surprisingly it fit perfectly, you were always nervous about getting clothes from other people because women’s clothing always fits differently based on brand and style from some reason, so it can be pain. 

Anyway, you waited until you had the shoes on before looking at yourself in the mirror. Your lips turned into this wide smile because you felt absolutely beautiful. Not that you didn’t think you weren’t beautiful before, but this was one of those moments where you saw yourself as a different type of beautiful. 

“Y/N, I’m heading down to make sure the driver’s on his way, you almost ready?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a bit,” you smiled. 

You waited until you heard his footsteps leave and walk down the stairs before you opened the door to follow him. He was on the phone with his back turned to you as you made your way down. Before you got to the bottom, you cleared your throat. 

He turned around, phone still at his ear and his eyes went wide. He quickly ended the call and walked towards you. 

“You look... wow,” he whispered. 

“Good wow or bad wow?” you laughed. 

“Both,” he laughed. 

You cocked your head to the side, “What?” 

“Good because you look amazing, bad because you look amazing and I don’t exactly want to leave the house,” he laughed taking your hand as you walk down the stairs. 

“Did we just have a Titanic moment?” You giggled. 

“A small one,” he laughed. “Care to reenact the drawing and car scene later?” 

“Oh, I already plans for later,” you smirked. 

“Do you now?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yep,” you said. “Now, let’s go before we’re late.” 

“Why did I make reservations again?” He groaned. 

“Because you love me and want to take me out to a big fancy dinner,” you smirked. 

“Right, right,” he laughed. “The driver’s here anyway.” 

“No getting drunk,” you said. 

“I don’t get drunk,” he scoffed. 

“I’m sure one phone call to Jeff can debunk that statement of yours,” you added. 

“You’re one to talk about getting drunk,” he said. 

“That was one time! and it was your fault, might I add,” you said. 

“How was I supposed to know they were my Mum’s wine coolers and not juice,” he said. 

“We were fifteen,” you said. 

“I was naive,” he said. 

“And the lie detector determine that was lie,” you joked. 

“Oh whatever! You were the one who kept drinking them, even after we figured it out,” he said. 

“They were refreshing, okay,” you said. 

He laughed kissing your head as the two of you got inside the car. 

**

The restaurant was located on a hill overlooking the ocean. You were worried about it being packed with other couples for the holiday, but surprisingly it wasn't too bad. Harry placed his hand on your lower back as the two of you followed the hostess to your table. It was in the very back of the restaurant, in the corner facing the window with an ocean view. 

“Wow, this place it gorgeous,” you smiled. 

“And the food is good, too,” he said. “Definitely worth it.” 

“How expensive are we talking?” You winced. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. 

You give him a look, but he grabbed your hand, “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay, okay,” you said, squeezing his hand. 

After a few minutes, you both order and sip on your drinks. 

“Oh, I forgot to thank you for the dress,” you smiled. “I love it.” 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. 

“I feel bad now though. You did all this and I only got you a teddy bear and cheesy bracelets,” you said. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “The dress was just something extra. And I love my gifts.” 

When you were finished with your meal, you and Harry decided to take a walk on the beach while you waited for your driver to pick you up. Harry carried your shoes in one hand and held your hand with his other one. You smiled wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” you said. “Even at night.” 

“Yeah, it is,” he nodded. “But it’s not home.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” you smiled. 

“Speaking of home,” he said. “I have something I want to ask you.” 

“Oh boy, what it is?” You asked. 

“Well, I started thinking... about us,” he said. 

“And?” You asked. 

“Would you... would you maybe want to uh... move in together when I go back home?” He asked. 

“Really?” You asked. “You don’t think that’s too soon for us?” 

“We’ve known each other our whole lives... I know we’ve only been in a relationship for a few months, but I love you and you love me. I’m ready for this, if you are. You don’t have to give me an answer right now-” he said. 

You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips against his. “My answer is yes,” you whispered. “It’s always going to be yes with you.” 

He smiled widely pressing his lips against yours again as the waves crashed at your feet. 

**

You weren’t sure if it was the drinks at dinner finally kicking in or the thought of moving in together, but as soon as you and Harry were back at the house you were practically attached at the hip. Your arms were wrapped around him as he walked you back through the house and he kicked the door shut. 

“Hm, bedroom?” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Eventually, but I’ve got one more surprise for you,” he said. 

“Ugh, fine,” you groaned removing yourself from him. 

He kissed your pouted lips before putting his hands over your eyes, “No peeking,” he said. 

“Remember, you just asked to move in together, surely you’re not wanting to kill me already,” you joked. 

“Eh, not yet,” he smirked. 

Harry helped lead you through the house and out into the backyard. The first thing you noticed was the soft sound of music playing in the background. 

“Okay, open your eyes, love,” he whispered in your ear. 

You weren't sure what you were opening your eyes to, but it was not anything compared to what you saw when you did. Red and white lights were strung along the backyard. Candles and roses were floating inside of the pool. There was a large cabana placed right into of a makeshift projector screen ready to play your favorite movie. There were blankets, snacks, and drinks all set up and ready to be eaten. 

“You did this?” You smiled, looking over at him. 

“I had help,” he smiled. “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” you smiled. “This is amazing and I can’t believe you this. When did you do this?” 

“My help came while we were at dinner,” he smiled. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you pulled this off,” you said. 

“Hey, not sure if that’s an insult or complement,” he laughed. 

“The latter,” you smiled. “We should probably go change. I don’t think wearing fancy dinner wear is suitable for this level of luxury.” 

Both you and Harry changed, him in a pair of jogger pants and a hoodie, while you put on one of his hoodies over the lingerie you had on underneath your dress. Once changed, you both cuddled up in the blankets while snacking and watching the movie. 

At the halfway mark, your mind had left the movie and was only focusing on your boyfriend who laid next to you. You wrapped your arm around his waist as you cuddled closer to him. You placed your leg on top of his and started kissing his neck. 

“What are you doing?” he laughed. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You smirked turning to straddle him. 

“Don’t you want to finish the movie?” He asked. 

“I’ve seen it a hundred times. I know how it ends,” you said. 

“Well, when you put it that way,” he shrugged leaning up to kiss you. 

Your fingers found their way to his hair as the two of you kissed. His hands ran up along your legs as he deepened the kiss. Soon, you tugged on his hoodie, signaling him to take it off. He tossed it to the side and you smiled running your hands over his chest and shoulders. 

“Now, off with yours,” he smirked. “It’s only fair.” 

“Go ahead,” you said sitting back a bit. 

His hands quickly found their way to the bottom of the hoodie, pulling it over your head. You counted in your head how long it took for him to realize what you were wearing underneath. You only managed to get to about one and half before he uttered a fuck under his breath. 

“What was that?” you smirked. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you giggled. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed,” he laughed. 

And that remained true for the rest of the night. 

**

THE END! Hopefully you enjoyed it!

Don’t forget to send in any ideas or what you want to see happen for my AU series Sunflower! I hope to have the next part of that updated in the next few days. :)

[milknette]

chapter 03 - game night

see the thing you've been chasing, you'll never find it wearing a life vest. ​

tumblr month: @adrinetteapril​​

links: ao3 | ff.net chapter: previous | next

THE NEWS of Adrien’s apparent date with the new girl— no, that mermaid, spreads like wildfire.

(Not wildwater apparently, as Alya points out. Marinette has to scoff: how does wildfire make sense, then?)

In any case, it only takes a night and the morning after, before classes start, for the information to receive a certain group of students who are less than delighted over the news.

“Let’s just douse her with water as soon as she gets here,” someone whispers. “Can’t show up to date if she can’t even get up.”

A sudden whack on the forehead. “Ridiculous! She’ll have that guard girl of hers fixing that in a minute. Besides, she has all the time in the world to get ready after.”

“So what do you suggest, then?”

The girl smiles, a scheme already forming in her mind. “Leave it to me.”

(If it’s a game for Adrien’s heart, after all, Chloé Bourgeois and the Francois-Dupont Adrien Fanclub sure as hell aren’t losing.)

The look on Adrien’s face is nothing short of pure horror as they enter the restaurant’s interior.

Marinette is equally taken aback with the setting before her, before turning his way, offering a shrewd smile and the most dry tone-of-voice he’s ever heard. “Really? This is where you thought we’d have dinner?”

“I— uh,” he only manages to mumble, evidently panicked as they’re handed menus to browse through. Marinette flips through the pages, humming lightly to herself as she points at one of the picture. “Hey, I think he used to live at the coral reef near our place,” she starts. “Used to have dreams of travelling the world one day…,” she takes an excruciatingly-long second to take in her surroundings. “At least he got that part right.”

“I didn’t—!”

The aquariums grandly display all kinds of exotic fish and sea creatures, even reminding her of the aquadiversity back home. “The fishes are cute,” she only continues, swallowing down the amused smile that threatens to escape her as she watches her companion get increasingly more flustered. A sudden and loud chop! attracts their attention, as one of the chefs expertly cuts through one of the animal carcasses. “Desecrating the dead bodies of my family, not so much.”

“Your family?” He exhales, eyes widening at the revelation. “Marinette, you have to know that I— I never meant to—.”

“Yes,” she sighs, bowing her head down in apparent sorrow and respect. “Sebastian and Flounder… may they rest in peace.”

Adrien nods, immediately bowing down his head as well. “To Sebastian and Flou—,” he pauses, then narrows his eyes at her. “Wait.” 

At that, Marinette can’t quite stop the light laugh that escapes her lips, as his figure finally relaxes, looking at her in evident unamusement. “You know you deserved it,” she points out easily, before nodding to the waiter as they lead her to their table.

Adrien chases after her. “Okay, so you don’t mind the sushi?” He pauses, gesturing at the rows of sea animals before them, as he follows her pace. “Aren’t they your family or something?”

Marinette only rolls her eyes, before turning abruptly and pushing the menu to his chest. “Are all land mammals here related?” She points out, then grins. “Besides, what is it that you think mermaids eat?”

He opens his mouth to protest, pauses for a moment, then stops in his tracks. “You… have a point.”

(It’s only at that moment Marinette realizes the close proximity she has to her so-called date for the night, and immediately pushes back.)

“I know I do,” she only responds, a bit hastily taking a seat as they’re led to their table. “And you’re the one not making sense here. If you thought I hated sushi, then why would you bring me here?”

It’s a valid question, and Adrien’s eyebrows furrow as if even he’s not even sure of the answer.

“I’m confused myself,” he finally responds. “I was asking around for first date recommendations, and a friend suggested that I take you here. She said it was the perfect place for someone like you.” He pauses. “Well, I guess they know their mermaid lore more than I do.”

Marinette can’t quite stop the suspicion that crawls up her spine, but ushers it away. “Guess it worked perfectly, then?”

“Dolphinitely.”

(Somewhere in a far-off table, Chloé slams the menu on the table and stands to attack— blissfully unaware of the ‘CAUTION: WET’ sign upon the floor, and falling flat to the ground.

The tray of sushi soon follows, perfectly slipping over and falling atop her head. She bites back the need to scream.)

Marinette - 1, Fangirls - 0.

.

.

The attacks don’t stop throughout the night. They try to switch around the orders, mess with her meal, distract the waiters, get her wet (— There are literally aquariums everywhere. This shouldn’t be as hard as it is for them to complete.).

However, whatever they try to do, they fail spectacularly.

They’ve lost count of all the so-called activities and points that Marinette’s managed to win. They’re still at zero, even when their opponent has no idea that she’s even playing.

A formidable rival, they begrudgingly admit.

(Evidently, Marinette thinks something strange is going on. But she never has quite enough proof to make a scene for it.

.

.

It’s a Hail Mary when their dinner finishes, and the fangirls decide that there’s nothing more they can do.

Well, majority of them do.

As Adrien and Marinette walk down parking, Chloé Bourgeois sneakily runs indoors, aims, and throws a single water balloon in the air.

She shoots, she shoots, and it looks like she’s gonna make it…

Until surprisingly-quick reflexes result in the mermaid’s date immediately pushing her to hunch downwards, shielding her with his trenchcoat, and—

A human shield (or sacrifice, really— judging by the amount of water dripping off his clothes.)

The remains of the water balloon now on the floor, Adrien carefully moves from a protective stance to help Marinette up; and to the fangirls’ despair, completely ‘human’— legs and all. (They’re belatedly terrified in realizing that they just threw a balloon at their idol, and quickly scatter away as soon as they do.)

They escape, but the match is set:

Marinette wins.

(For this round, at least: as Chloé tells herself, this is nothing more than the beginning to all-out war.)

.

.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Adrien looks at the damage caused around him. Their college-mates have long since evacuated the scene, and all he’s really left with is the remains of a plain black balloon.

“What was that?” He finally asks, rubbing at his head in apparent shock. Marinette takes a handkerchief from her bag, then carefully wipes it across his face to help.

“Nothing new, at least,” she only says, rolling her eyes in evident irritation. “Didn’t expect them to follow me all the way here, though.” Marinette pauses, looking down at the bits of balloon on the floor, and slowly connects the dots for the strange events of that night.

Alya’s words (and warnings, really), from the previous day swim fresh in her mind: Ah. Fangirl club, then.

She looks at him unimpressed. “Dedicated fans you have.”

He looks absolutely clueless. “What do you mean?” Adrien asks, eyebrows knitting together. “You’re saying they stalked us here just to throw a single water balloon at you?”

“Not just the balloon,” Marinette corrects. “Everything else too. Didn’t you notice anything weird at dinner?”

“... I mean, I enjoyed it.”

“So did I,” she points out. “But something was fishy, right?”

When a flicker of recognition alights in her companion’s eyes at the pun, Marinette realizes exactly what she has to do.

She puts it in words he can understand. “All of this?” Marinette finally says, gesturing grandly with her hands. “This was no acseadent.”

Adrien looks like he’s holding on to her every word.

She pauses for dramatic effect (has no idea why, even), and stares him down. “This was… saboatage.”

He’d definitely be proud had the situation been any different. “You think my fans tried to ruin our date tonight?”

“No,” Marinette corrects again. “I know they did— tried, at least. You land mammals are so quick to act on your emotions.”

He hums thoughtfully, as the dots start to connect themselves in his head. “Ah, so this is the rebellion you didn’t want to start, huh?”

She shrugs. “I’d rather not incite the wrath of humans, thanks.”

“We are a pretty eelmotional bunch,” he agrees, before carefully taking hold of her hand through the handkerchief. “I hope tonight was worth it?”

Marinette pauses, looking from their hands to his expression. She tilts her head, as if in thought. The answer is clear to her, of course: and definitely to him, too.

“Too early to be sure,” she responds instead. “Whale see.”

(She can practically see his face glow whenever she puns.)

“And so we shell.”

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 20)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2578

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Stephen and you set out for Nepal. You’d spent two or three days traveling all over, chasing leads. Finally, you were close. You knew it was in Kathmandu, and you were certain it had to be one of the buildings nearby. 

The two of you stopped and asked everyone if they knew where Kamar-Taj was, but no one responded. The two of you turned a corner into what appeared to be an alley or a deserted market area. Just behind you was one guy, and then two guys in front of you. 

Immediately, both you and Stephen knew they were going to try and rob you or worse. 

“Look, guys, we don’t have any money,” Stephen began. 

“Your watch,” one of the miscreants said smugly. 

“No, please, it’s all I have left,” he begged. You got closer to him, hoping that would somehow ward them off. 

“Your watch,” he repeated as they moved in closer. You were afraid at first, but now the adrenaline in your system made you beyond angry. 

“Alright,” he agreed after taking a breath. He looked at all three of them, then suddenly he swung and punched the guy who had asked for his watch. 

You didn’t have time to think or react, so you just followed his lead. He cried out in pain from the punch, but you decided to swing at the guy in front of you. The guy Stephen hit began hitting him in the stomach. You kicked the guy in front of you in the stomach, knocking him back, but the guy behind you grabbed your hair and yanked you backwards. 

You cried out in pain. You weren’t trained to fight anyone. You were a doctor. 

The guy held onto you, holding your arms. He was holding you back despite your best effort to get away. The two other men began to gang up on Stephen, kicking, beating on him, and you screamed. 

“Get away from him!” You looked around and yelled. “Help! Somebody help!” 

The two men worked quickly to get his watch, and just as they were about to run off with it, a hooded man came up and knocked all three of them out in record time. You stood back, a bit worried about what this man was about to do to you two too.

However, he grabbed the watch from the mugger, and walked it over to Stephen. It was broken, but at least he still had it. 

The hooded man asked, “You’re looking for Kamar-Taj?”

The two of you nodded and he told you to follow him. 

You walked with him about five minutes before walking up to an innocuous building. It looked and seemed just like all the others. Of course, Stephen had to make a crack about this fact. 

“Really? Are you sure you got the right place? That one looks a little more...Kamar-Taj-y,” he joked as he gestured towards what looked to be some kind of religious den. 

The man smiled, but he wasn’t amused. “I once stood in your place. And I, too, was… disrespectful. So might I offer you some advice? Forget everything you think you know.”

Stephen glanced at you, an unsure look on his face before saying, “Uh��� alright,” as if he were highly confused. You simply shrugged and followed him inside. 

“The sanctuary of our teacher, the Ancient One,” the man introduced as the two of you walked into the building. You could smell incense. 

Stephen scoffed and you elbowed him in the ribs. “The Ancient One? What’s his real name? Right. Forget everything I think I know. Sorry.” 

The three of you entered an open room with tables and just a few people. An older Asian man sat at a table, reading, and Stephen presumed this man was the Ancient One. 

“Thank you for--” Two people came up and removed Stephen’s coats and yours. He seemed disturbed by it. “Huh! Okay, that’s, uh… a thing…Thank you,” he began again, but this time a woman approached with a cup of tea for both of you. “Hello. Uh, thank you. And thank you. Uh, thank you, Ancient One…for… seeing me…” But as he spoke, the older man got up and started to leave. 

The two of you frowned, confused by the action until the woman in front of you two pouring tea spoke. “You’re very welcome. Thank you, Master Mordo. Thank you, Master Hamir. Mr. Strange!”

Ah, so Mordo was his name, you mused internally. 

“Doctor, actually,” Stephen tried to correct her. 

“Well, no. Not anymore, surely. Isn’t that why you’re here? You’ve undergone many procedures. Seven, right?”

“Yeah…Good tea,” he noted after taking a sip. 

You simply stood there and listened. You weren’t here to weigh in or judge. You were just for moral support. 

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Did you heal a man named Pangborn? A paralyzed man?” he asked.

“In a way,”

“You helped him to walk again.”

“Yes.”

“How do you correct a complete C7-C8 spinal cord injury?”

“Oh, I didn’t correct it. He couldn’t walk; I convinced him that he could.”

“You’re not suggesting it was psychosomatic?”

“When you reattach a severed nerve, is it you who heals it back together or the body?”

Stephen answered, “It’s the cells.”

“And the cells are only programmed to put themselves together in very specific ways.”

“That’s right.”

“What if I told you that your own body could be convinced to put itself back together in all sorts of ways?”

“You’re talking about cellular regeneration. That’s… bleeding-edge medical tech. Is that why you’re working here, without a governing medical board? I mean… just how experimental is your treatment?” He seemed excited, and to be honest you were quite intrigued too. Just what was it they did here?

“Quite,” she responded, trying to flash a convincing smile.

“So, you figured out a way to reprogram nerve cells to self-heal?

“No, Mr. Strange. I know how to reorient the spirit to better heal the body.”

Uh oh.

You knew he was going to lose his mind soon. Talk of spirits would not fly with Stephen. 

“Spirit… to heal the body. Huh. A… Al… Al… alright. How do we do that? Where do we start?” he wondered, not quite sold but what choice did he have?

She opened a book and showed him chakras. 

And here we go, you thought sarcastically.

“Don’t like that map?” the Ancient one asked, seeming amused, knowing already he didn’t like what he saw.

“Oh, no. It’s… it’s very good. It’s just…you know, I’ve seen it before. In gift shops.”

“And what about this one?” She turned the page.

“Acupuncture, great.”

“Yeah? What about… that one?”

“You’re showing me an MRI scan? I can not believe this.” he spun around, clearly put out by the whole thing. You could tell he was about to blow up. 

“Each of those maps was drawn up by someone who could see in part, but not the whole.”

He walked around with his hands on his head, obviously having a meltdown already. “I spent my last dollar getting here on a one-way ticket, and you’re talking to me about healing through belief?”

“You’re a man who’s looking at the world through a keyhole, and you spent your whole life trying to widen that keyhole. To see more, know more. And now, on hearing that it can be widened in ways you can’t imagine, you reject the possibility? Is that what you did with your soulmate here?” she asked, glancing to you briefly.

“No, I reject it because I do not believe in fairy tales about chakras, or energy, or the power of belief. There is no such thing as spirit! We are made of matter, and nothing more. We’re just another tiny, momentary speck within an indifferent universe.” He was angry, and getting in her face. 

His words stung, because you thought you’d finally made a connection. You thought after everything you’d done for him he would’ve changed his mind about soulmates, but he was still in denial about it all. 

“Stephen,” you lightly said from his side, hoping to calm him.

“You think too little of yourself,” she responded.

“Oh, you think you see through me, do you? Well, you don’t. But I see through you!” he said loudly, poking a finger in her chest. 

In a matter of a split second, she grabbed his wrist and turned it, and used the heel of her pam to punch into his chest. He started to fall backwards before Mordo came over and put his hand under his body.

“Wha--what did you just do?” you asked, a bit horrified. 

She waved her hand and then he stood up as if he woke up from a bad dream. 

“What did you just do to me?” he asked and you eyed him, worried. 

“I pushed your astral form out of your physical form.”

“What’s in that tea? Psilocybin? LSD?”

“ Just tea. With a little honey.”

Dr. Stephen Strange: What just happened?

”For a moment, you entered the astral dimension.”

“What?”

“A place where the soul exists apart from the body.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“To show you just how much you don’t know. Open your eye,” she said before putting her thumb on his forehead and pushing on it. 

He seemed to faint again and you went to his aid but Mordo held up a hand while he held Stephen’s body. You frowned, but obeyed. 

“His heart rate is getting dangerously high,” Mordo warned.

Suddenly, he was awakened again and a chair was quickly put under his falling body. He looked disheveled, confused, and scared. 

“He looks alright to me,” The Ancient one said before seeming to send him back out of his body again. “You think you know how the world works? You think that this material universe is all there is? What is real? What mysteries lie beyond the reach of your senses? At the root of existence, mind and matter meet. Thoughts shape reality. This universe is only one of an infinite number. Worlds without end. Some benevolent and life-giving, others filled with malice and hunger. Dark places, where powers older than time lie… ravenous… and waiting. Who are you in this vast multiverse, Mr. Strange?”

You stood by, wringing your hands. You weren’t sure what was happening to him, why they were talking to him. He seemed to just be slumped over in a chair, but you knew better. 

Stephen’s body suddenly hit the floor from the chair, as if he’d been catapulted into it. 

“Have you seen that before in a gift shop?” the Ancient One asked confidently. 

You walked over to him as he slowly got on his knees, his hands shaking more wildly than they normally did. 

“Teach me,” he requested. 

After a moment, she said, “No.”

“No?” 

“No. But, if your mate here were so inclined, I would teach her. She has the gift.”

Stephen looked up at you, surprised. You glanced from him to her. 

“What… what are you talking about?” 

“I won't train him, he's arrogant. But you have a disposition for the mystic arts," she explained, pointing at you. 

Your eyes went wide as you were taken aback. “Me? No, no I’m not special. I’m just here for Stephen,” you explained., getting uncomfortable. 

“Not special? Odd thing to say for the only person to ever have two soulmates.” 

“Well, that…” You lost your words, you had no response to that. “Thank you, Ancient One, but you should really be teaching Stephen. He needs it, not me.” 

“Sorry,” she said as she turned around. “I either help you or neither of you. If you’re choosing neither, then I’ll have someone escort you out.” 

Mordo came over and picked up Stephen’s things, but he fought him the whole way. 

“No, no, please, I need to stay and learn. Please!” 

The more he gouth, the more they fought back. They walked you two back to the exit and just threw him out - literally. He went rolling in the dirt. They threw out his bag, his coat, and slammed the door behind you. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Stephen ran up to it, slamming his hand on the door before drawing back in pain. “No! Open the door! Please!” he begged, and the beg was so sincere, it broke your heart. 

You’d seen him go through quite a bit in your short time with him, but this… This was going to wreck him. 

You couldn’t believe the two of you had traveled all this way for this miracle cure, only to find out it was magic. While it didn’t both you, you had experience with mutations and soulmates, you knew Stephen was probably having a tough time of things. 

He continued to pound on the door for hours before he had to take a break. He turned and sat with his back against the front door. You sat facing him, sitting on the dirt in front of him. 

“Disposition for mystic arts, huh? When were you going to tell me?”

“I had no idea until just now,” you admitted. “I’m as shocked as you are.” 

“Somehow I doubt that. That’s really great. I come here looking for answers, and all I get told is it’s you who has the ability to do this and not me.” 

You pressed your lips together, not knowing what to do or say. "Is it the idea of a soulmate you don't like, or is it having me as a soulmate that you don't like?" you finally asked. You had wondered about it since day one. Stephen seemed to resent you out of nowhere. You understood that Charles was trying to keep you at arms length. But this… Stephen didn’t know you from Adam, and yet here he was, constantly fighting you, fighting your role in his life, fighting the idea of soulmates. “Am I really just the worst thing you imagined when you thought of a soulmate?” Tears sprang to your eyes, surprising you. 

You’d always wondered if your soulmate would reject you. Of course, Charles didn’t but, Stephen seemed to absolutely hate the idea of having you around. That rather hurt. No one likes to be rejected, but it hurts much worse when the person you’re destined to be with 

“Neither,” he answered, sounding tired and exasperated.

“You certainly could’ve fooled me.,” you muttered, your eyes casting down to the dirt. 

He sighed. “It isn’t you. It’s not… You were right when you said it was my fault about my hands.  It’s not anyone’s fault but my own. I’m more angry at myself for letting it happen. I’m angry that I can’t find a fix for my hands when this is all I’ve done in life. I imagine it would be like you getting schizophrenia and not being able to help yourself. All I’ve done for the majority of my life is fix other people's bodily issues and functions. I’ve repaired cases that no one could see past. I healed injuries that should’ve killed people. And now, a lousy car wreck destroys my hands, my whole career, my whole livelihood and I can’t get it back? No one can get it back for me? I can’t accept that.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. Now it all made sense. 

Charles and Stephen had similar issues, yes. Both handicap, both lost their jobs. But it was for vastly different reasons and sources. Charles was accidentally wounded by a friend. Stephen made a terrible mistake and it cost him his career. Charles could be helped, he didn’t have to blame himself. Stephen does though. 

“I ignored the scars because all I cared about was my work. Getting to the next big thing, performing the next miracle. Then you show up out of nowhere, and I don’t know you. I don’t know what your motives are. I just threw Christine out for treating me like a charity case. I felt like you were about to do the same. Felt like it was your due diligence as a soulmate to care for me. I didn’t want the pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” you softly said. 

“Everything feels like pity when you’re in the state I am.” He sighed. “When you showed up, it was just another thing to deal with. The anger about my hands got entirely mixed in with finding out you were my soulmate. I just directed it all at you, and anyone else. I’ve purposely not bonded with you because all I want right now is to fix my hands, that’s all I’m focusing on. I can’t lose sight of that.”

You nodded, the picture becoming clearer for you. 

“In a way, I saw you showing up as an obstacle, a distraction from getting my hands fixed.”

“That makes sense,” you said. When you showed up at Charles’s home, he wasn’t actively seeking to get better. He thought he was doomed to either live with his mutation or his paralysis. He had the choice to walk, or have his mutation. He chose to walk. There was nothing to fix on him medically, just mentally, emotionally. That could only be done through you, with the help of you at his side. He couldn’t see a way out of the dark hole he’d dug for himself. That’s what you were there for.

But Stephen, he didn’t have a cure all at his disposal when you arrived. He was right, that this would be very much like if you developed a debilitating mental illness and couldn’t help yourself. It’s frightening, frustrating, and it makes you feel powerless. 

His focus, his goal, had been to get his life back. Not to fall in love. He didn’t have the time or the ability to do that right now. He needed his career back. He needed his hands to work again. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see it before,” you whispered. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it. I’m so sorry for pushing you.” 

He waved you off. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not. It’s my job to discern these things, to read between the lines. I was just so swept up in the fact that I was meeting you, that I had two soulmates, and that you were so hostile... “

“I suppose we were both wrapped up in ourselves,” he responded with a smile. 

“Well, yes, but you had every reason to be. I was just being selfish.” 

He bobbed his head side to side in thought. “Not quite. If we’d met under different circumstances, I’m sure we would’ve hit it off much better. You’re a good psychiatrist. You didn’t come to me as a patient though, you came as my soulmate and so far, you’ve surpassed any expectation I would’ve given you.” 

You gave a half smile. “That’s good to hear I suppose.”

“Well, I don’t have a particularly high standard for anyone. So don’t get too proud, it’s easy to surpass ground level expectations,” he remarked with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His comment made you laugh. 

“You’re an ass,” you said as you chuckled. 

“Thank you, for doing this with me. I’m sure I could’ve done it alone, but… having you here helps, and not just because of helping me medically.” 

“I’m always happy to be by your side.” 

“You’re a good liar.” 

“I’m not lying,” you shot back evenly, your eyes tender on him. Your words made him curious and soften.

“Then, thank you,” he said sincerely before the door suddenly opened and he fell inside. “Thank you,” he called out weakly. You stood up and grabbed his coat and bags before following him in there.

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

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[pink-peony-princess]

Deliverance|S.M Werewolf AU

Part Two🐺

In my dream I was running, running as fast as I could and yet the wolves that were chasing me were only gaining on me.

I knew that I only had a matter of seconds before it was all over, before I was dead and so I welcomed the wolf as he lunged forward to kill me.

...

I woke with a start, breathing heavily as I looked around realising that I was safe, I wasi n Shawn's room still, but it was light out now, morning light reflecting like diamonds off the lake in the distance.

There was a soft knock at the door, causing me to jump before Shawn appeared dressed in a t-shirt,and track pants, his feet bare.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, coming to sit at the end of he bed. "Are you okay? I heard you whimpering in your sleep."

I nodded, still half asleep. "I'm good, bad dream I guess," I shrugged, not wanting to go into it anymore.

"You can go back to sleep for a while, it's still early and I have a few things I need to do with the pack before the day starts," Shawn offered with a soft smile. I turned looking at the cosy hole of pillows and blankets I'd left.

"Thank you, I murmured, stiffling a yawn.

"Sleep well Pup," he spoke getting up and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him. I lay there from a while, just watching the world out the window, just this simple act felt so luxurious, the mountains, everything was so pretty, so green, so vibrant compared to my old life.

How different my life was now I thought as I shut my eyes and drifted off again.

When I woke again, I could tell several hours had past from the angle of the sun, and the fact that I was no longer fighting the urge to sleep. I sat up and stretched, before getting up and heading to the door. I had no idea where I was going, but I was hungry and I had this weird yearning to be near Shawn. It made me uneasy after everything that had happened to me that I needed someone, especially a male so much, but I couldn't deny the feeling I was having, maybe it was something to do with this mate connection that Shawn had been taking about?

I made my way through the house, heading down corridor after corridor, down several staircases and into a massive living room with several oversized couches and a fire place.

"Lucy?" I turned at the sound of the familiar female voice. Karla, was standing at the other side of the room watching me inquisitively. "Are you okay?" she asked, making her way towards me.

"You know my name?" I asked surprised.

"Shawn told us," she smiled registering the confusion which I felt. "What are you doing up?"

"I woke up and Shawn wasn't in his room, I came to find him," I explained, still somewhat distracted by the sheer size and grandure of the room.

"He's in the kitchen making you breakfast, he loves to cook. I'll show you the way if you want," she offered.

I nodded and she took my hand without hesitation, leading me through an archway which opened out into the kitchen. Like the living room before, the kitchen too was huge, a massive marble island taking up the centre part of the space, several stoves and counters, Karla smiled and left.

"Morning Pup, sleep well? Shawn asked when he spotted me standing there, coming over and laying a ghost kiss on my temple. "Sorry I shouldn't have done that," he frowned.

"It's okay. It feels nice," I smiled. He beamed back. "It'll just take some time for me to get used to everyday things again." I was saying it more to myself than him. But he answered.

"We've got nothing but time, however to fill that time how about we eat, you need nutrients Pup. What do you like to eat?"

It was a simple enough question, but it had been so long since I had been asked it, that I didn't know how to respond.

"How about pancakes and fruit?" he asked, helping me out.

I nodded, thankful I didn't have to make a decision for myself.

"Want to watch?" he asked.

"Yes please."

He nodded "Since you're so short, how about you sit on the bench?" he suggested.

"How am I meant to get up there?" I asked eying the jump, there was no way in hell that I'd be able to make it on my own.

"Can I help you?" he asked coming to stand in front of me. I nodded, still a little unsure. "I'm going to lift you okay?" he checked.

I nodded again and he placed his hands on my waist and lifted me with ease onto the bench.

"Ever made pancakes before?" he asked reaching above him to the hooks which held a bunch of saucepans, grabbing one down.

"Yes, but not in a long time, not since-" I stopped shuddering as memories flooded back.

"Do you want to stir the batter?" he asked, breaking me free of the silent torture.

We went about the process quietly, I was greatful for that, because I still wasn't feeling particularly verbose. Not used to being allowed to talk, let alone anyone actually being interested in what I had to say.

When the food was ready he helped me down off the bench and led me back the way I'd come and out onto a secluded balcony overlooking the sound. It was stunning, the morning sun reflecting like one big dimond off the water, the sound of birds and the breese filling the air.

"How come we haven't seen any of the pack, except for Karla?" I asked as I sat down.

"Because this part of the house is only for the Alpha and his immediate superiors," he answered, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I asked them to keep their distance, I figured you'd need some time to adjust."

"But Karla?" I stopped confused.

"Is my Beta Connor's mate," he explained.

"Oh,"

We lapsed back into a comfortable silence. giving me a chance to take a bite of my own food. It was hands down the most delicious thing I'd ever eaten, and I was overcome by a hunger I didn't know I had in me, finishing my plate miles ahead of Shawn.

"You still hungry Pup?" he asked looking over at my now empty plate with a smile.

I shook my head no, smiling back at him, I was fuller than I could ever remember.

I sat watching the sound for a while as Shawn finished his pancakes, but my peace was suddenly interrupted by an odd and unnerving sensation in my stomach, almost like nervous butterflies, but way more intense.

"Shawn," I panicked.

"What's wrong,?" he demanded, standing up and coming to squat in front of me, searching every inch of my face.

"The feeling?" I asked, desperately hoping he'd understand. "Like butterflies," I gasped as they ramped up when I grabbed his hand squeezing it as hard as I could. "What is it Shawn?" I asked again as I took in hus huge grin.

"It's your wolf Lucy." he let out a breath." I was so worried she was repressed for too long, but she's alive," he chocked on his words.

"Is that good?" I asked confused, still squeezing his hand.

"That's great, it means you'll be able to live like the rest of us, to change, to mate." I blushed at the last part.

"But why this feeling?"

"She's restless," he explained. "She knows she's in the presence of her mate, my wolf and she wants out. When youre well enough I'll teach you how to let her free," he added.

"Will it hurt?" I asked suddenly worried.

"It might be a bit uncomfortable the first time she takes over, it's kind of like having to share your head, your thoughts and feelings with someone else, but trust me, there's no better feeling than running free in the woods, your wolf able to do as they please without restriction.

I nodded, still not entirely sure, but I trusted him.

We sat just watching the water for a while, not needing to talk. It was strange to me, being able to just sit, not having rules to follow, people coming to use me for their own personal gain, not feeling pain. But it was also welcome.

"Are you ready to start the day?" Shawn asked, as he stood half an hour later, grabbing our plates off the table with one hand and holding his other out for me to take.

I nodded, standing up slowly,taking his hand, and following him inside.

"What are we doing today?" I asked as he dumped the plates in the sink and led the way back to his room.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked as we stepped into his now familiar room once again.

I stood there, thinking. Again not used to having the freedom to make choices for myself.

"A few of the girls like to paint," he suggested as he rummaged around in his cupboard, pulling a pair of trainers out and sitting on the end of the bed to put them on. "I could get you some paints or different art supplies if you like, or you could read, we could even go for a short walk around the grounds if you're feeling up to it later," he added with a smile coming over to stand in front of me.

"I'd like to paint?" It came out as more of a question, but he nodded.

"I'll get you the stuff you need," he murmured, placing another soft kiss against my forehead, causing me to all but melt into him. I couldn't get over the way he made me feel. It was like everything in my head told me to keep my distance, to stay clear, to protect myself. But my body and heart were saying the opposite- wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to this man, it was almost as if my body needed the physical contact with Shawn to function now. It wasn't that that was a bad thing, it was just such a change from two days earlier when I would have done everything in my power to stay clear of any and all males.

"How about you have a shower, get ready for the day, I'll go and do what I need to do- check in on the younger ones, do a perimeter run and then we can go to the pack meeting together?" he suggested, moving around me to pull a towel and a new oversized hoodie off his dresser which I hadn't even realised was there.

The first 10 minutes of the shower were heavenly,the hot water helping to unknot my still aching muscles, the steam clearing my senses, but as I relaxed into it, listening to the sound of the water beating down on the tiled floor my mind started to wonder, and soon I was feeling anything but comfort.

I could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline, the way my hands and feet went slightly numb and shaky, my chest heaving as I gasped for air, collapsing in a heap in the corner of the shower, head against the damp wall as image after image of my old life haunted me.

I sat there for what felt like forever, the water drowning out my pathetic attempts to choke back the sobs that were now wracking my tired body.

"Lucy, are you okay in there?" an alarmed voice spoke, slightly muffled by the door.

"Help, please, help me," I whispered,hoping that whoever it was would hear me.

"I'm coming in," the person spoke and a moment later the door to the shower was ripped open revealing Karla, a look of deep worry on her face.

"Lucy, what's the matter?" she asked, reaching in to turn the water off.

"Ca-can't breathe," I stuttered, holding my hand over my chest.

"Oh, God, here, I'm going to help you get out," she rushed out of the room, coming back moments later with another large towel. "Can you stand up? "she asked watching me uncertainly.

"Think so," I nodded. She stepped into the shower wrapping the towel around me, before helping me carefully to my feet. I didn't even care at this point that she'd seen me without anything on, I was just desperate for this feeling to stop.

"Just take slow deep breaths," she encouraged with a soft smile as I made my way slowly to the bed. "Have you had panic attacks before she asked?" Sitting on the bed beside me, grabbing the sweater that Shawn had set aside for me and helping me to pull it over my head, instantly engolfing me with the warmth and scent of Shawn.

I nodded, still feeling extremely shaky.

"Do you think you'll be alright if I go and get Shawn?" she asked. "I promise it'll take me 2 seconds. I just think Shawn will be able to help you more than I can," she told me.

I nodded. I didn't want to be left alone, but I wanted Shawn more.

She left in a hurry, looking over her shoulder at me with pity.

As I sat and waited, I tried to stay calm, but my the time the door opened again, I was once again struggling to breathe, my chest heaving.

"Oh, Pup, what's the matter?" Shawn asked coming to sit next to me as Karla had, before laying a very gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Don't know, just feel scared," I shrugged, not looking up at him. I hated the idea that he was seeing me so vulnerable.

"Lucy, honey, can you look at me," his voice was barely a whisper.

I looked up reluctantly, knowing that he'd be able to see the tears, not yet dried on my cheeks, the puffy redness under my eyes nodoubt making me look like a chipmunk.

"We're going to do some grounding excercises okay," he smiled softly. "Take a big breath in, and I want you to hold it until I count to 10."

I did as he said, feeling my lungs expand with the air they so desperately needed.

"Good," he praised, and slowly breathe out through your mouth," he instructed. "I'm going to lift you up okay?" he asked. I nodded, letting him know I was okay with it.

He lifted me quickly and easily, sitting me in his lap, not seeming to care about the fact that I still had dripping hair. I curled into him instinctively, as I hiccupped, my tears slowing slightly now, my chest just a little less tight.

"You're okay Lucy, I'm here, I've got you," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," I croaked out, when after a few minutes neither of us had spoken.

"For what?" he asked, looking at me with confusion in his eyes.

"For me," I said, as if it should be obvious.

"Lucy, please don't apologise, none of this is your fault," he responded, rubbing soothing circles up and down my arms. "You know fear is nothing but an obstacle, and we will get past it, together," he added comfortingly.

"I just feel useless sometimes," I admitted, more to myself than to him.

"You are anything but useless," he replied, "and to prove it," he added, "I'm going to take you to meet the pack, if you're up to it," he smiled. "They're all so excited to meet you, and we have a pack meeting dinner thing tonight so I thought it might be nice if you joined."

"Why if they don't like me?" I worried, ringing my hands nervously.

"They will trust me," he smiled again, shifting me off of his lap before standing up and holding his hand out for me to take, which I did gladly.

There were already several people waiting in the living room when we made it downstairs and I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated at the thought of all these new people.

Shawn squeezed my hand reassuringly as he lead me to a large armchair where he sat, before pulling me down to sit on his lap without seemingly a second thought.

"Everyone, this is Lucy," Shawn introduced. "This is Dave, Brian, Connor, you know Karla," she shot me a warm smile "Beth and Angie," Shawn pointed them out one by one. They all smiled warmly, waving at me.

"So what's on the agenda for tonight?" Connor, I assumed from the way Karla was snuggled into his side much like I was with Shawn, asked.

"We need to be putting protective measures into place, since Lucy's been here other packs are getting restless, and given the circumstances, I don't want to take any risks."

The others nodded in silent agreement before Shawn went on.

"When I found Lucy-" he paused to look at me, shaking his head, "she was mere moments from having her life cut short, it was just lucky, I happened to be doing a run of the grounds, who knows what would have happened..." he trailed off. I felt myself shudder and Shawn's arms tighten around me ever so slightly as we simultaneously re- lived those horrific few seconds.

"You know we're all behind you man," someone else spoke up, causing everyone to nod.

"Thank you," Shawn replied sincerely, "At this stage there have only been two attempts at breaches, they don't seem bold enough to actually enter our lands, but they're hanging around the fringe, getting more game everyday," he frowned as he spoke.

At this point I chose to time out the conversation, sometimes ignorance was bliss and I already had enough on my mind without fretting about what was going on around me too much.

As we sat on the sofa hours later, cuddled up as the television played re-runs of Friends I couldn't help but voice my fears.

"Am, am I safe?" I asked nervously, looking up at Shawn who was half dozing, arms wrapped lazily around me.

He sat up slightly, stretching before resting his hands on either side of my face affectionately. Tipping my head back so I was looking up at him.

"We're doing everything we can to protect you," he spoke fiercly, reaching for my hand and squeezing gently."You are my life now," he added, pulling me protectively into his embrace again. For the first time in a long time, the sense of fear that was ever-present disappated somewhat, and I felt safe knowing that regardless of what happened I had Shawn, I had a home and I had a family.

[dented-nado]

So a little bird told me you were taking Sebwill prompts. I thought I should take advantage of that! May I request something along the lines of SebWill superheroes/villains? Maybe they are mortal enemies by day, and lovers by night?

This is such a perfect combination of my interests, I am so damn here for it. I hope you enjoy it!

This ended up a little long, oops! Lol! I also absolutely kind of made a soup of DC hero/villain origins and mixed them together for this lol. Bonus points to anyone who can spot every one that I made a reference to! :D

 ==================================

Years ago, William had hid in his room after a horrible day. He was only about 15, wishing he could just fly away and leave.

Then… suddenly he found himself lying on his ceiling. It had taken him several long moments of panicking to realize he wasn’t dreaming, longer to realize he could move around as he wished.

And so… he opened his bedroom window, and left home, never to look back.

Anyone who knew him now would be shocked to find that at one point, William T. Spears who stood so straightly and kept every bit of him tidy and proper… had once been a scruffy, scrawny little teenage meta-human wandering the streets of London, getting into trouble and being chased by the authorities trying to take him into and orphanage or foster care… or worse, back home.

William had learned to live off the streets. At a certain point he had even gotten a little cocky, he was so fast that no one would even see him as he stole whatever he needed or wanted. He’d lead cops on a wild goose chase into alleyways that he knew like the back of his hand, only to float away to the rooftops out of sight.

He didn’t really make friends either. He mostly just had a small pack of birds that he split some of the spoils from his day out with when they came to the cracked window of the abandoned flat he had hid in.

He had always heard of heroes… saving the earth from threats both domestic and extra-terrestrial. Hell, he had seen one of them blast through London. On one hand he was curious, if maybe he and that super-being came from similar origins. But on another hand… he couldn’t help but resent the whole idea of heroes.

They certainly never protected kids like him.

That was the first time William had a sort of haunting thought. He had escaped because… he just happened to have these abilities that he still didn’t know the origin of… how many kids out there weren’t so lucky that weren’t being saved??

Well… maybe he could save them but, well when he looked around himself this was a fine nest for himself, but more than one person? Potentially kids even younger than him? How would he even look after them? He was 17 now… maybe he could pass as 18 if he cleaned up a bit, then maybe if he had enough money by then he could buy a better place and own it himself. How much did houses cost? It couldn’t be that much if lots of adults had them right?

He’d start stealing things to sell, he decided. He could get away with it, surely.

Well, his plan had fallen short, when he had been caught, stealing the tires off a rather fancy car since he was sure he could sell them for quite a bit.

The presumed owner of said car seemed oddly amused and calm at a scraggly un-kempt seventeen-year old stealing the tires of her car.

It was then another person came around the corner rambling on her phone, she seemed almost the same age as William, though maybe a little younger. She stared at William and who William now supposed was this young lady’s mother.

William decided now was the time to up up and away out of there, only suddenly, in a red blur, the young girl had jumped up and pulled him back down, she was fast… almost as fast as him.

“Excuse you! You can’t just steal our tires and go!” She scolded.

William had tried to escape, he’d found it easy to lift incredibly heavy objects including cars above his head, but now he couldn’t seem to pull her arms off him.

“Let me go!” He demanded.

“Now young man…” The girl’s mother said patiently. “How about you land yourself right back down on the ground and we can see about helping you out so you aren’t out here on the streets stealing tires.”

William glowered distrustfully, still thrashing in frustration as the young redheaded girl pulled him back down to the ground.

“If you haven’t noticed… we’re like you. We can help you… if you replace the tires and calm down.”

William had bit his lip. He didn’t trust this strange red-headed mother and daughter pair but then again… maybe… it would be nice to meet other people like him.

Begrudgingly he had put the tires back on quickly, and hesitantly sat in the back seat of the vehicle beside said girl who had been grinning at him since she had pulled him down to the ground.

“I’m Grell, what’s your name boy?”

William stared at her like she had grown horns for a moment before finally answering, realizing he hadn’t said his own name in a while.

“William.”

“William… you’d be rather handsome if you cleaned up a bit.” She teased with a small giggle.

 It was that decision that led him to where he was now. It turned out he had been picked up and adopted by a very, very wealthy family that practically owned half the city. He learned he was a meta-human, and certain supernatural genetics had caused his abilities to develop. While he had flight and a decent amount of strength down, he eventually found his most key ability was telekinesis, allowing him to move around almost anything with solid mass with his mind.

Grell seemed to have both flight and strength as he did, but she also was far faster than him and caused fire to ignite out of thin air. It suited her red hair and personality perfectly in his mind.

Grell and him also saw rather eye to eye on using their meta-human abilities to give more attention to the people trapped in bad homes that needed saving and she became a pseudo-sister to him. He found out her mother had taken Grell when she was only 9 years old and run away with her in the middle of the night. Running far away from the father who had treated them both poorly. Then, Grell’s mother had been lucky enough to find love, not even knowing she was going to be marrying into a vast amount of money, but that had certainly been a nice bonus.

Outwardly of course, they were both celebrities of sorts, especially when they turned 18, they became public figures. Grell flourished happily in the spotlight. William on the other hand… could handle being polite and interacting with others at important events, but he really did hate all the attention – he was relieved when… at night, him and Grell would dawn garments to hide their well known identities, and would do the vigilante style work of trying to find and save kids from bad situations, feed those who needed it, and punch a few robbers and other criminals on the way if it served them.

William did sort of understand the superhero dilemma more now. It seemed as if something was always happening that would distract from the “smaller” work. He had been more than frustrated when a man… no…a demon it seemed that controlled and moved through the shadows decided to make William his arch nemesis. There was no clue to who this man causing chaos could be. His entire face was covered, not only making it seem as if he had no facial features, but it also made William wonder if there was a man under there how he saw or breathed with that thing on. It was also clear when this villain spoke he had some sort of voice filter on that scrambled the tone of his voice, causing it to sound garbled and off-putting.

His only solace between the stress of his daytime persona, and his ‘night job’ – was the boyfriend he had managed to be with despite at all. Sebastian Michaelis. They had met at a gala, and despite himself, after one dance, William could already feel himself being swept off his feet by the raven-haired man with a mischievous glint in his eyes. And so… after that, he had made a point to see him. Grell had teased him that he was absolutely head over heels for the gothic man that stuck out like a sore thumb against the light colors most of the people at gatherings tend to wear. Sebastian was dashing in his own right… and well, William had been called “Goth lite” by Grell as well as their mutual friend Ronald Knox. So they had something in common.

It wasn’t long before William had to admit he was head over heels for Sebastian, and they had begun their romantic outings. Of course their relationship eventually got media attention, they couldn’t go on dates for long without someone recognizing them. Somehow though, while it seemed Sebastian was also someone who reveled in the spotlight much more than William, the way Sebastian would hold him or rub his back soothingly made him feel more confident in handling such attention.

After about a year and a half of dates and nights spent together, William officially asked Sebastian to stay with him in his apartment. It was more of a condo than an apartment, but William didn’t like that word much. It was one of the properties that had been gifted to him that hadn’t been turned into a high-quality rescue shelter for children.

William… hadn’t told him about his night life yet, and Sebastian always seemed to take his word for it. It wasn’t he didn’t trust Sebastian, in fact he was beginning to feel as if he’d do just about everything for this man. Yet… well, vigilante-ing was dangerous business, even if you could fly and move things with your mind. He swore he’d tell Sebastian about his night life well before they got married.

But for now… he enjoyed moments like this, laying on top of him while they slept, ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat for comfort. Sebastian would often run his hand through William’s hair, effectively petting him until the stern man slept. He didn’t want these quiet, comforting moments to ever end….

…and he’d be damned if he let any sort of super-villain or threat come between them.

[transgamerthoughts]

What I Found In The Leaves

Last August, as the lease to my apartment was about to end, the roof began to smolder until the place I lived was full of smoke. When all was settled and done, my apartment had no roof. My room was spared and most of my things were okay—this part of the story being set in late capitalism, I am required to assure you that the things I purchased were okay too—and I decided to leave New York City to return to New England with my family. One of the first things I did when I arrived was look at the sky and imagine I was up there. Falling or sailing or flying. It didn’t really matter. I wanted to touch a cloud, to feel the whipping wind.

I promise… this is leading to something. In the months since, in spite of comfort and proximity to my family… in spite of the arrival of my nephew into this world—a child I would climb a mountain and punch God for if I needed to—and in spite of a happy job… I have spiraled into depression. My solution was work and writing. To throw myself into my job and to, somewhat foolishly, take on the task of novelizing my favorite game: Skies of Arcadia. Because if you’ve read my work long enough, it always comes back to Arcadia. I am proud of that project but it sparked a yearning in me. To truly connect to the world I was writing. It lit a fire. Before we proceed, let me be clear that by depression I don’t mean the woes of pandemic living or some disaffection with the reality of entering my 30s. I mean a deep and painful darkness with all the implications therein. Regardless to say, my efforts to combat it drained me. To the point that I burnt myself out and with some prodding from my boss, took a vacation. Which I am currently on. This is not the first time this series of events has played out. I made a promise to myself when I started vacation: no writing. I am breaking it because I have found, yet again, a moment where I must desperately drain the wonder in my heart and attempt to explain to you that I think there are magical things in the world, and that I believe there is some type of magic in art—in that strange alchemic or shamanistic way—that transfers to us. This will be my second attempt to explain it, and to explain what it has to do with video games. (Forgive the indulgence of this introduction by the way; an editor would surely have cut it all but I need you to understand two things: I am in pain and there's a part of that pain which I think points to something important.) This is a story of ritual and tea. Of how my senses and imagination came together to send me on a journey around a fictional world, in search of heroes who both do and do not exist. As part of my love for Skies of Arcadia, I’ve become something of a paraphernalia collector. I bought an old light novel from ebay, I used my rudimentary Japanese skills to set up a warehouse dropbox so that two fan magazines could be sent there and then subsequently shipped to America, and I have drank tea based off the game. At the time, I wanted to collect the little tins the tea came in; they seemed excellent collector’s items. What I found with my first round of tea was art unto itself; balances of flavor and spice and blends that symbolized characters and connected me to them. These were crafted by a dedicated fan and fellow writer. I don’t have the time to sit and research all the ways in which tea is used in ritual. Because I am tired and older and depressed and writing a blog post that perhaps thirty people will read. Regardless, to my delight I found that the tea-maker had created blends based off the various moons that dot Arcadia’s skies. For those who do not know the game, which I assume is many of you: each nation of the world rests under a magical moon. There are six, with one—a Black Moon—theorized to have gone missing. Here was my opportunity for a journey.

I bought teas based on each moon, and one based on the world itself. I will post a separate collection of all my individual tastings and reviews later. The important thing is this: I had been given an amazing gift. With these teas, I had something of that digital world which was actual. When we play games, we hear them and see them. Perhaps with certain haptics we can feel them. But we do not smell them or taste them or literally consume them. Eight teas, eight chances to smell and taste that wonderful world. To touch the clouds. Quem quaeritis? This is a famous question asked by an angel to the three Marys visiting Christ's tomb: his mother the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, who is the sister of Lazarus—the man Christ brought back to life after his death. It means: “whom to do you seek?” I was journeying, one tea cup at a time, around Arcadia. From continent to continent, I tasted their spices and experienced hints of their values, their cultures as expressed through the tea. The question played in my mind: Quem quaeritis? Whom was I seeking? The answer is complicated. First, I was seeking something of myself. The part of me that understood magic and wonder. The part of me that believes in the soul and believes that art, in allowing the complex interaction of creators and characters with players, performs some type of soul-magic. It impresses upon us, real and actual changes. I was seeking that piece of me; that part of me that understood that each cup was a ritual that brought about a communion with a distant world. I was searching for the younger part of me that believed in wonderful things. 

I drank the teas in the order our heroes travel the world, and in doing so I was performing a sort of perseveration of their journey. I communed with some place distant and followed in their footsteps. Which answers another half of the question. Whom did I seek? I sought my heroes. I sought the adventurous Vyse and his dogged determinism, I sought the firecracker Aika and her swift rushes to action, and I sought Fina. The woman I wish I could be: feminine, slight, beautiful, kind, brave. Quem quaeritis? All of this sounds like nonsense and when I try to explain the nonsense, I feel a deep embarrassment. To care in the 21th century, particularly in America, is to be weak. To be publicly vulnerable is to make yourself a target. You must be hard and solid as a rock. You cannot believe in magic or else you are doomed. But here I was, chasing myself and my heroes one cup at a time. And I need you to know that it hurt to do that. 

I went to the corner store today to buy some energy drinks. When I got back home, my father asked: “did you find what you were looking for?” I told him “That’s a very complicated question.”

Let me explain. Let me do the thing that I feel I cannot do well anymore; let me do some game criticism. In the world of games, the entities we control exist as two things. They are actors; manipulatable bodies, guided by code and controller inputs, that we guide around as we see fit. In this way, players have extraordinary power. In some ways, it is a… fraught power. We can, as Soulja Boy did, leave Braid’s protagonist in a perpetual flux state: jumping and rewinding. Back and forth, forth and back. Eternal puppets for our amusement, avatars for our power fantasies. Sometimes, as in the case of a game like Skyrim, our controllable actors are little more than flesh suits But actors are, more than anything, just… avatars. Video game actors are also characters. Within their worlds, which are fictional, they have motivations and wants and desires and dreams. They want to live and grow and succeed. Cloud Strife wants to defeat Sephiroth and uncover the truth about himself, Joel wants to protect Ellie and survive in a cruel world. Arthur Morgan wants to find a calmer life and redemption for his sins. They are, as characters, people. But since they are also actors, we can deny them their hopes and dreams whenever we want. We can have Cloud while away his days gambling at the Gold Saucer and, if we want, we can force Arthur Morgan to murder to population of an entire town. The core truth of a player's relationship to the character is this: we decide if their dreams are fulfilled. I find that troubling and I will try to explain why. But first let’s be clear: I do not think the character in games are sentient entities. I outlined this relationship of players and characters in a GDC talk a few years ago, using highly rhetorical terms and my reward was the ridicule of countless gamers who questioned my sanity. Some made videos about my presentation. It was hell. To be a woman, perhaps especially a progressively minded trans-woman, in games is to know a very real hell. To this day, I cannot go a week without some type of horrid experience on the internet. Some judgment of my worth, some assumption about my competency, or in the worst cases some proclamation about my right to live. No doubt this is part of why I needed my vacation. But here is why I find the player/character/actor relationship troubling. It is not merely the abstract notion, the thought experiment that elicits fun but meaningless philosophical natter. The reason I find that relationship troubling or at least complicated is because for all of their fiction, the characters in games can give us real things. They can, through some type of power—a deep power found in the act of story-telling itself—impart aspects of themselves on us. For instance, they can teach us lessons which we then carry into the rest of our lives. My father, for reasons I can’t recall, once told me: “the meaning of life is to serve others.” Though he does not know it, that truism has been etched into my soul. It is a “thing” that my father has given me. But my father is not the only person who has etched something into my soul. Vyse, that dashing pirate, has etched many things into my soul. For instance: “impossible is just a word people use to make themselves feel better when they quit.” That is etched on my soul too. Just as much as anything my father has taught. So we come to the heart of it: what does it mean that Vyse can so alter my being and values, and that he can do it with the same strength and “realness” of my father? What does it mean for a character, who is also often an actor that I guide, to give me such a powerful gift? Because let us be clear: values are “real” things. When I tried to explain that I believe that certain things are actually true, for instance that looking at landscapes does mean that we are looking at something real…. I spent an afternoon with former Jeopardy! contestant Arthur Chu and a cohort of Twitteristas attacking my philosophical surety. So, again, fuck the internet… I digress.. Let’s explore: I believe in the realness of things because of the depth of the emotions those things make me feel, and I refuse to believe that life is just endorphins, hormones, and instinct. That music or games or anything else can make us weep for joy is proof-positive to me of the existence of a soul; of an ineffable thing that is “us.” Not necessarily all enduring but certainly extant. And if this thing exists, it can be acted upon. I know this because my father, with his truism, changed my soul. Changed the core of me. I know this because Vyse and the others did so as well.

I’ve written that games criticism is a kindness; that it seeks the good in art and attacks the banal explicitly because art is beautiful. I write today to suggest this: art is magical. It alters us, not metaphorically, but in the ways it can affect our souls. Which brings us back to character and actors. I control Vyse since he is an actor and I am a player; but he is a character with dreams and hopes and personality. And values. Wonderful values which he shared with me. So what does it mean now that I can send actors to their doom? What does it mean that I can control them utterly when I know for a fact that they can affect and change me? I do not have clean answers for this. Perhaps there are none. Perhaps all I have written is silliness, even as I beg you to please understand. Please. 

Understand the power of stories, understand it in the way that Tolkein did when he said: “Creative fantasy, because it is mainly trying to do something else … may open your hoard and let all the locked things fly away like cage-birds.” Understand that I am telling you that the locked thing is your heart and soul, and that just as a lover or parent or mentor can open that thing… so can the people we meet in our fictional journeys. Vyse is not just the captain of a ship. He is my captain. That means something. Art is ritual and play is ritual. In creation, we place something of ourselves in another thing. In play, we allow ourselves to be transmuted and changed. This is magic, of a sort. I am left wanting however. I followed the path of my heroes in as literal a way as I could, pulling on new senses to understand the world they live in and touch their skies for a fleeting moment. But I cannot reach them; I am Tantalus in the mire. Ever reaching, ever chasing. For that moment I can be the person that my heroes trusted me to become. Note by musical note, word for written word, tea cup by tea cup, I am chasing my captain. When I went back to my apartment the day after the fire, I looked up at the spot where the roof used to be. All I could see was blue sky and I thought I might fall into it. Perhaps in superficial ways I have shared something with my heroes; I have tasted something they have, even though the tea is not actually from Arcadia. It was merely a conduit to my imagination, to the transformed parts of my souls. Yet, I did not find him and I could not find myself. Which is why it hurts, in spite of how wonderful it was. Quem quaeritis? He is not here. So I will keep sailing after him.

[the-silentium]

Jinx Pt.2

Masterlist

Pairing: The Swedes x Reader

Words: 2260 words

Warnings: Angst, torture, blood, swears... I think that’s about it.

Tags: @jossambird​

//General//

//Reset//

//Reset all//

//Enter password//

**************

//Resetting//

As the cog turned onto the screen of your iPad, you felt lighter, free of the anxiety that someone could find a way into your tablet or simply see a drawing by accident. Your fear of hurting your new family was too great, even though they had promised to never touch your device again. 

Your relationship with them only got better in the weeks following the revelation of your ability, their acceptance of who you were only increasing the confidence you had in them, leading you to open more about yourself. 

You were throwing the tablet into your bag, put on your red squared flannel coat when Oscar's impatient shout came from the entrance of the apartment. You rolled your eyes at his eagerness, clearly, you'd never understand why he loved hunting people down so much. I wasn't your favorite part of a job, your favorite being when the mission was done and you could go relax somewhere or, as of late, pass time with your new family. 

"Took you long enough." You rolled your eyes, to what Oscar fake gasped. 

"We have all the time we want, relax." Pushing your luck, you ruffled his too perfectly arranged hair, dashing to run for the car where the older brothers were waiting as he went to grab your arm. 

Hurriedly you pulled on the 1968 Ford Mustang door handle multiple times, ultimately finding it locked. 

"Shit." You muttered, the dead leaves cracking under Oscar's boots alerting you of his presence right behind you. 

"You'll regret that." He whispered into your ear, an enormous handful of leaves falling in the back of your shirt making you yelp. 

Your back curved at the rough contact, hands flying to the hems of your coat and shirt to make them fall, some of them getting stuck in the fabric despite how hard you shook it. 

Otto knocked on the window, signaling that it was time to go, your childish behavior would have to wait for later. You sigh, letting the victory to Oscar -this time-, taking place on the back seats. 

The half-hour road would have been pleasant if it wasn't of the leaves crumbles scrapping your back. You tried to ignore it the best you could by humming to the songs on the radio and ignoring Axel's glances in the rearview mirror. 

"This place would be scary at nightfall." Oscar said, whistling in admiration when you all gathered at the door of the building. 

"Good thing we are not staying here for nightfall then." A shiver ran up your spine at the idea of walking in the abandoned factory in the dark. Who knows what could be hiding in the thrashed rooms. 

Axel's hand fell on your shoulder, his gaze searching yours to reassure you that it'll be alright. He'll protect you. His lips did the tiniest of twitch when you smiled wholeheartedly at him, grateful you at least have one brother who you could trust fully to not scare the shit out of you when you'd least expect it. 

Otto snatched the keep out sign, throwing it in the bushes. Immediately, you had to suppress your instincts that were screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible, passing your nerves as a result of Oscar's night plan. 

The silence in the building was strange, although not uncommon. You checked a room on the right for your target as Oscar checked a room on the left, regrouping with the others when you found no one. 

"Why would a guy hide in here?" You whispered to Oscar, who shrugged. Needles were lying everywhere along with broken glass, old tools, torn pieces of fabric and broken furniture. You couldn't progress as silently as you'd like, glass crunching under the sole of all your boots, rising your anxiety slightly. 

You repeated the process a couple more times, checking a room, regrouping, until a metallic door fell from the top of the door frame you just passed, right behind your back trapping you inside a windowless empty room. After recovering from the initial shock, the loud bang of the door landing on the ground almost giving you a heart attack, you tried lifting and pushing the door, not to avail. Bangings came from the other side, Oscar's muffled calls of your name barely reached your ears. 

"Oscar! Axel!" You hit the door, your worst fear coming true. "Ott-" 

A metallic noise behind you killed your brother's name in your throat, your body reacting as quickly as it could, gun at the ready. The absence of light made you press your back firmly to the door, wishing that maybe you would pass through it by some mysterious phenomenon, the incessant hits on the metal stressing you more and more. 

A soft whooshing sound caught your attention on your right, along with a pungent smell. Panicked, you slide on the door, landing on your ass to hide your face into your clothing, praying that your family would get you out of there before the gas had reason of you. You dropped your gun without wanting to, your only source of security disappearing in the dark. You sit there, hearing the banging, feeling your heart rate decreasing, your respiration slowing and you knew. You were screwed. 

"Y/N, are you alright? Kärlek!" Axel… He sounded distressed. It… made you feel… worried? 

A weird sound registered in your brain, your fingers twitching in response. You jerked as a hand grabbed your wrist, a weak scream leaving your mouth as something poked into your forearm. 

The hits on the door became louder, worried voices morphing into menacing ones. 

"Sweet dreams, agentin." The distorded voice whispered, a hand softly closing your eyelids for you since you couldn't do it yourself. 

*********

You were shivering uncontrollably, the cold air mixed with your wet clothes made it impossible for you to gain some sort of warmth. You were tired, oh so tired, but you fought. You fought as hard as you could. Against the nausea, against the cold, against the exhaustion. 

It took a while for you to get seated in the wet tiny cell, the remaining effects of the gas slowly disappearing from your system. 

"We can finally get started." 

Your head was still turning, your mind was still foggy but your instincts were still sharp. Your body moved by itself, retreating as far as it could from the voice, until binds on your wrists stopped your escape. 

"Wh-who are you?" You finally managed to open your eyes, taking in the dark humid cell you were in. Droplet of water ran onto the stone walls, gathering into small puddles where some courageous rats were drinking unbothered. The two oil lamps weren't enlightening much of the room, just enough to show you your dirty cell and all the sharp tools exposed onto the table. 

"Did you seriously think the Commission didn't have enemies?" A vicious smile stretched his lips, your blood running cold. He took out a set of keys, unlocking your cell before stepping in. 

Honestly, no. It never crossed your mind that a time-traveling company full of mercenaries could have enemies. How the hell did the guys in the Infinite Switchboard missed that?

The binds bit your skin the more you pulled on them, trying to evade his sickening form. 

"We knew you'd come for us sooner or later. We just had to set up the perfect time for agents to come do their handy work." He pulled your hair back, a disgusting smell of cigarettes assaulting your nose. "I'm glad to see that our plan worked. So einfach zu betrügen. Ein Haufen Idioten."

 You glared at him, your fear overpowered for a moment by your training, your heartbeat slowing to a steady beat, your muscles relaxing, testing the strength of your legs in an urge to hit him where it hurts. And hit him you did. 

Satisfaction flowed through you in waves at his cries of pain, the way he fell to his knees almost made you laugh. That was before the knuckles connected to your cheekbone, sending your head right into the wall. You didn't have the time to recover that hands wrapped tightly around your neck, his body straddling yours, restraining your movements. 

"No more playing around. Where is your briefcase?" 

The pressure alleviated for a second, allowing you time to spit on his face instead of talking like he wanted. He cursed in what you thought to be german before his hands tightened around your throat once more, lifting your neck to pull you back on the ground. 

Your cries were muffled by his hands, white lights dancing before your eyes. 

"How do you use them?" He yelled into your face. 

As his patience reached its limit, your lack of answer pissing him off, the shine of a knife caught your attention just before it cut slowly, steadily into the skin of your abdomen, superficially enough so you wouldn't die on him, but enough to make you think about a new way to approach the situation. 

"Maybe this will help untie your tongue." 

But it didn't, your mind deeply buried in one of your best memories to resist the pain your body was enduring. 

After a while, the pain stopped, letting in its wake an uncomfortable throbbing. You allowed yourself to return to reality, leaving the comfort of your mom's arms, your brother's teasing, your sister's giggles and your father's laugh. 

Tears flowed from your eyes as soon as your brain registered the white-hot pain, the new many cuts tainting your belly made you feel like you were burning. 

As you dug into your flesh to execute your plan, tears flowed from your eyes, and pleas from your mouth. Pleas for your beloved Swedes to find you in time, because for the first time in 16 years, you wanted to live. 

*************

"Ready to talk today?" 

The man came back, lamp in hand, chasing the rats as soon as the light revealed them to the world. You'd had to hit them so they'd leave you alone, the blood under you enough to attract their hungry stomachs. 

"Ready to die?" You answered with a smirk. 

He took the bait, letting his annoyance guiding his actions. Unlocking your cell, he approached, the light of the lamp lightening the drawing on the wall, made of your very own blood. Giggles bounced around the cell as you saw his eyes taking in the monochromic illustration of himself, lying on the floor with a hole in his chest. 

"Think you're funny?" Quickly, he put the lamp on the floor, something metallic hidden in his hand. He jumped on you again, the exhaustion of your sleepless night fending off the rats making you powerless against the needle entering the vulnerable skin of your arm. 

"I guarantee you that you'll talk. I have all the time I want." He got up, grabbed the lamp and disappeared down a hallway. 

"Continue telling you that, asshole." You muttered, analyzing the hole in the crook of your elbow. "Son of a bitch." 

Without losing any precious second, you removed your coat, dipping it in the puddle on the floor and pressing it to the wall to erase your artwork, smudging the dried blood to protect any other eyes that would venture your way. 

You reduced it to a massive stain, or so you thought in the absolute darkness. 

Or was it dark? The hallway was bright again, his footsteps coming your way. 

"Not dead yet? Shame." You shot, uncaring of what you would get in return. 

"Y/N!" Oscar's voice boomed, hurting your beaten head. 

"Turn it down, dude." You whined, massaging your temple. Boots appeared in your peripheral, attracting your eyes. 

"He-"

Arms engulfed your form, tight but cautious of your bruises and wounds. 

"Jag var så orolig. Snälla säg mig att du är okej." He pulled away, eyes frantically running over your face and front. 

"Sorry, I don't speak handsome." You giggled, turning into a full-on laugh when he frowned, checking your head for bleeding. "It's so unfair." You pout. "The perfect Scandinavian stereotype. Handsome, gorgeous and cute all in the same family. Do you guys know how many women's love lives you've ruined just because they've looked at you?" 

Shit, talking so much is exhausting. Your head became very heavy, falling forward on a hard chest. 

"Vad är fel med henne?" Otto asked, bringing the lamp closer to better assess your injuries. 

"The not-so-handsomes can't understand. Not everyone speaks Ikea." Your words were muffled by Axel's shirt, which by the way, was very very soft. 

"I'm fairly sure she's drugged. Or hit her head too hard. One of the two." Oscar snickered, unlocking the chains around your wrists. 

A hum vibrated in Axel's chest, snuggling more into his body at the feeling. Arms moved under your knees and back, lifting your battered body with care, stopping when a hiss escaped you. 

"Sorry." He whispered, waiting for you to smile at him to position you better in his arms and follow his brothers out of the underground complex. 

"You can kiss it better." Your eyes found his captivating ones, his usual stern gaze now replaced by a soft one. 

"It's not you talking, Kärlek." He averts his eyes. 

"No? I wanted it for a year though, not just now." You snuggled in his neck, the tiredness finally catching up to you. You fell asleep to the sound of a frenetic heartbeat, safe in the arms of your beloved Swede.

[onthepageoftears]

Hold Them Closer ~ Ch.7 [Jaskier x assassin!reader] || Witcher

A/N: It’s been less than a week and school is kicking my ass :) lol anyway i hope yall enjoy this chapter!

Summary: All that lies ahead is a skeleton of what you called home.

Warnings: mentions of killing/death/murder, insinuations of attack, language, slight angst and comfort

Words: 2,638

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

The sky was bright, not a cloud to block any of the sun’s shine. The local farmers wiped tirelessly at the sweat that formed on their foreheads, but still, they smiled. Days like this didn’t come often, so a smile was a silent thank you to whoever blessed them with the hopeful weather.

You watched the square with a smile on your face, noticing the uplift in everyone’s spirits. A chicken walked aimlessly past the well that sat in the middle of the area, where your mother was gathering some water to bring back to your house. You giggled as she pulled the bucket from the well, accidentally sloshing some water onto the chicken’s back. It clucked, rushing past your mother and shaking its body to rid itself of water. But even in the chicken’s annoyance, it was probably happy as well. It was a nice day for everyone, no matter what happened.

You opened your eyes, almost shocked by the sight in front of you. Your memory hit you like whiplash as you stood in front of your now abandoned village, the darkness of night looming over you, almost as a threat. Even in the daytime you guessed that your village would feel dark and dim, now empty of the life you once witnessed it having.

You sighed, placing your hands on your knees as you kneeled in the same spot you once did as a child. Though you told yourself this could very well lead to nothing, the fact that it did make your heart shrink. At the very least, you thought you could ask the locals what happened to your mother — but there was no one here. Not a trace of anything, it seemed. It was a lost cause.

Footsteps crunched behind you, but you didn’t bother to turn. Next to you, Jaskier kneeled, placing a hand on your back with a sigh. He didn’t say anything for a bit — just watched the scene before you, waiting for you to speak.

To him, this place was just another abandoned village. You came across many of them before, stayed in some empty houses for a night despite the risk of them collapsing right then and there — but this…this was your home. It was the only home you considered calling home, despite the many places you and Rauf stayed in. And now, it was ruined.

“How did you know this was your village?”

You shrugged at Jaskier’s question, “I just…knew.” You took a sharp breath in, “And I still have the memories.”

He nudged you gently. “Tell me about them.”

You blinked as he looked over at you, avoiding his gaze. You kept your eyes on the well whose roof was on the brink of falling over. “This area was always so…alive. Kids would run around barefoot with chickens chasing after them for stealing eggs.”

You snorted, but your face stayed grim. “I thought they would still be here. Kids wandering, people doing their chores and…waiting to go home for supper.” You fought the tears that brimmed your eyes as you turned to Jaskier, whose face was as grim as yours. “What happened here?”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier took your hand in his own, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “I don’t know what it was like before, but I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. The life. Even if it is just my imagination.”

He watched you a moment longer, squeezing your hand so you would focus on him once more. “Let’s look around. You never know what we might find.”

With a deep breath, you let Jaskier pull you up with him, though standing felt like a chore in itself. Your limbs were heavy as the two of you walked through the village, passing Geralt a couple times on the short walk.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, part of you not believing it was real. Though you left at a young age, the memories flooded you with every step, making what you were seeing so much worse. The houses that were now decrepit were once strong, with torches just by the front doors and someone sitting in a chair saying hello to their neighbors. The emptiness was shocking, and every time you felt it overwhelming you, you squeezed Jaskier’s hand.

Despite your weariness, Jaskier led the two of you inside some of the buildings. It was strange, entering houses that you knew people had lived in before. It wouldn’t have been strange if you didn’t remember the village, but knowing your neighbors once lived in these places — laughed, breathed, slept, ate — you felt like an intruder. Maybe you were one.

However long your village had been abandoned, it didn’t seem like stragglers found this place. If they did, they didn’t think it was worth it to stop and steal the leftover items. Some houses still had good blankets, leftover food (not that it was still good), forgotten coin. Others didn’t have the same luxury — they were ransacked, all essentials gone, leaving any useless items behind. That could only mean that the people from your village left in a hurry, or didn’t get the chance to leave at all.

The thought made you shiver, but maybe it was the cool air. The sky was almost completely dark by now, and the three of you met in the same square that you had been sitting in before. Geralt had a fire started already, acknowledging you and Jaskier with a grim nod as you sat across from him.

Jaskier was the first to speak, “I don’t understand.” No one responded. You were too busy staring at the embers that flew towards the sky, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. Jaskier continued anyway, “What would make everyone just…up and leave?”

Geralt grunted. “Bandits?”

You took a sharp breath through your nose, eyes flicking to the ground in front of you. “That, or assassins.” You didn’t wait for a response to continue. “From his entries, I don’t think Rauf came back. But maybe his men did.”

The words settled in the silence of the night, making you shiver. Rauf lied about so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to mention that his men tried to find your mother for him. He wasn’t the type to forgive and forget, clearly. So why would he have truly let your mother live? He was too much of a coward to kill her himself, so he might as well have sent people to do his dirty work for him.

It’s not like it would be the first time.

Jaskier touched your arm gently, bringing you back to reality. “Your house — do you remember where it is?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Of course,” you whispered. How could you forget? You directed Jaskier away from it purposefully, not wanting to face what might have happened there. So many times you had visited your home in your dreams, but nothing good ever came from it. You feared it would be too painful to see the state of your house, because then, the memories you had clutched onto so delicately might perish forever.

When Jaskier didn’t answer you, you croaked out a, “Why?”

It was Geralt who responded. “Whoever came here didn’t come to loot.”

You turned your gaze to Geralt, wondering what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”

Jaskier spoke, “Some houses had stuff taken out of it, but others were left practically untouched.”

“Looters would never leave that much coin behind. Not unless they were blind.”

You blinked, letting their words swirl around your mind. You had noticed the same things, but the pieces hadn’t formed in your head. Perhaps your nostalgia was making your brain foggier than usual. You frowned at the information, working out the facts out loud.

“So the people who came here had a goal.” Your frown deepened. “It must have been Rauf’s assassins.”

“Maybe. But still—“ Jaskier turned to you, thoughtfulness etched in his face, “If we check your house…well, what I’m trying to say is — if the essentials are taken…maybe your mother got away.”

Maybe she got away. The thought made a spark ignite in your chest. As soon as it was there, you pushed it back. You didn’t want to be disappointed again, so you set your lips in a tight line.

“She could have left before the attack.”

Jaskier nodded, hope still surfacing his blue irises. “But if we check the house, you’ll be able to tell what stuff was hers, right? You’ll be able to know if she was living there when they…attacked.”

You pondered this, considering the man’s words. Though your memories were a bit scattered, you could remember your home relatively clearly. With a deep breath in, you pushed yourself up from the ground beneath you.

“Let’s go.”

—

The house stood before you, though stood was a strong word. The outside felt…off, definitely lower to the ground than it had been before. Still, it was too dark to truly tell, despite the makeshift torch Jaskier held. But it definitely wasn’t as you remembered it. It wasn’t nearly as comforting to see as it might have been in your memories.

“I can go in for you,” Jaskier said, his voice just above a whisper.

You shook your head, “No. I have to see this myself.”

You forced your feet to step forward, Jaskier just behind you. You blinked, noticing that the door to your old house wasn’t just open — it had been ripped off the hinges.

You let out a breath and pushed aside any fear that lingered in your movements. Stalling wouldn’t help anybody.

But as soon as your feet past the threshold, it felt like you were transported. Despite the darkness outside, you remembered the mornings with your mother making you breakfast, when the sun had begun shining through the windows and leaving rays of light on the cracked floors. You remembered the hum of your mother’s voice, the scratchy fabric of your homemade clothes, the way the wood floor felt under your bare feet.

“Come eat, Y/N.” You turned our head to the right, where your mother cut the bread she had just made onto the small table your father made not long ago.

You rushed to the food — it wasn’t much, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t know what you were missing, or that this wasn’t the usual food everyone ate. Your mother had done a good job of hiding the fact that you were quite poor, trying to keep your innocence as long as possible.

As you took small bites of your bread, you watched your mother walk out of the main room and into the room where the three of you slept — it was a small area, with no door, and only two beds. Your father and mother would squeeze into one of the twin sized beds, leaving you the other. But right now, your mother wasn’t going to lay down, she was going to get something. Something important.

You blinked in the darkness of the room, slightly overwhelmed by the memory.

“What are you thinking?” Jaskier’s voice nearly startled you, but you shrugged it off.

After the flash of your memory, you immediately felt a pit in your stomach. The main room was practically ripped to shreds — the table you used to eat at was cracked in half, drawers ripped from their places, items thrown on the floor, forgotten.

You slammed your eyes closed, hoping some of your memories would help you. The state of your old home made your stomach churn, but what Jaskier said before circled your mind. Just because it looked like a wreck didn’t mean she was killed — it just meant the people who did this were sent to wreak havoc if she wasn’t. The only way to know if your mother got away was if there was something important, something essential, that she needed to take with her.

The memory you recalled from before hit you again:

“What’s that?” You said, swallowing the last of your breakfast. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as your mother sat at the table beside you; she cradled something in her palms, a somewhat serious expression on her face.

“My sweet, sweet child. You know I love you very much, and I love our life more than anything.”

You nodded. Your mother was always a positive person, a charmer. It was no wonder so many people loved her.

Even so, she was quite a lonely woman. A lot of her time was spent taking care of you while your father worked as much as possible. You loved it, having her company — still, she was a dreamer. She wanted more for the both of you, however she had to get it.

She continued talking to you, but was mostly talking to herself.“I appreciate everything your father does for us…but someday, it might not be enough. And I fear that we may need to make a change, soon.” You didn’t interrupt her, eyes still trained on her closed palms. “This is a very important item. It was passed down from my mother to me, and is meant to be passed to you as well.”

You widened you eyes even more, captured by her statement. Wordlessly, she opened her palms, revealing the shiniest thing you had ever seen. It was a necklace with some sort of jewel at the center of it — even though you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew it was probably worth a lot.

“Your father doesn’t know about this. Because this gift is yours as much as it is mine, I want to ask your permission for something.” You blinked, surprised by your mother’s forwardness. You were only eight after all, so a decision being placed on your shoulders felt strange. Still, you listened to your mother like her words meant everything to you — because they did. “If we sell our necklace, we can start a new life. We can have our own shop, maybe even a small farm—“

You perked up, “And animals?”

Smiling, your mom nodded. “And animals.” She reached forward to rub a crumb off your cheek, her eyes full of love.“What do you say?”

You smiled, “Okay.”

To you, the memory only lasted seconds. It was hazy at best, a jumble of expressions and feelings that didn’t make all that much sense. But what you knew for sure was that your mother saw that piece of jewelry as the key to your future, and would never have left the house without it.

Without a word, you trudged past the wreckage and walked into the side room where you used to sleep. Your heart was thumping in your chest as you leaned down, hope falling in you as the hiding spot in the floorboards was already ripped open. Swallowing your fear, you reached your hand into the crevice, feeling around the space like your hand would burn if it touched anything other than the ground.

With a breathy laugh, you stood from your spot, turning back to Jaskier in the darkness.

You could see his confusion in the light of the torch. “What is it?”

You smiled slowly, hope rumbling in your chest. Never in your life had the absence of something meant so much — but right now, finding a seemingly priceless jewel would have ruined your entire journey.

You nodded your head at Jaskier, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him towards you in a passionate kiss, feeling one of his hands find the small of your back.

When you pulled away, you kept your forehead to his, a smile finding it’s way on your face. “She got away.”

———————————————————————————————————

:O let me know your thoughts!

[kanamesharisenwrites]

kh’s story snippet celebration sendoff, entry #3

Oh, I had so much fun with this twisted plunnie! And even though only the opening scene is complete, I did finish a first draft for the entire fic (which I’ve included). It’s rough and vague, but the whole plot concept is there!

Inspired by the story, The Ones that Walk Away from Omelas, by Ursula K Le Guin.

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Kakashi Hatake/Sakura Haruno Word Count: 2217 Genre: canon-divergence!AU, drama, angst Rating: M Warnings: brief profanity, abduction, manipulation, brainwashing, dark fic

... [ kingdom come ]

"Where's Sakura?"

"Gone, obviously." Sasuke laughs, bloody spittle coating his lips. He groans as he pulls his body off the ground. Swelling from a large contusion over his left eye mars his fair face; there is a matching one at the base of his skull. His right arm, severed and cauterized, lies in the dust a few feet away. "If he didn't kill her, Tobi probably took her. He likes shiny new toys."

Kakashi bristles and widens his stance as Sasuke walks towards him. "I want to know what happened. Now."

"Relax, old man, I'm not looking for a fight." Sasuke picks up his arm and throws it over his shoulder. "Sakura told me to get my head out of my ass and go home. That's what I intend to do."

Kakashi eyes Sasuke with suspicion, searching his demeanor for tells of dishonesty. "After all these years, you’ll forgive me if I doubt your word. It's all a little too easy, don't you think?"

"Easy?" Sasuke scoffs and levels Kakashi with a hard stare. "I knew she only wanted to join me so she could capture or kill me. I decided to kill her first – chidori through the heart." A smirk twists Sasuke's mouth, sharp and cruel, as he watches Kakashi flinch. "One stab and I'd permanently slice through those bonds Naruto rants about. Only it didn't work. Her chakra neutralized my chidori when she grabbed my arm." Sasuke shakes his head, and his smirk softens. "What the hell have you guys been feeding her, anyway? She's as strong as a fucking ox."

Kakashi shrugs. "Ask Lady Tsunade."

"Figures. Sakura managed this," Sasuke gestures to his missing arm, "with nothing but a chakra scalpel. Pulled the rest of it through her body like she was unsheathing a sword. Then she beat me unconscious with my own severed appendage. Last thing I saw was the hole in her chest close up like it'd never been there."

 "You were a fool to underestimate her."

"So were you."

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Shikamaru gives Kakashi his weekly “state of the village” report.

Kakashi asks about Sakura sightings; there’s been none.

Shikamaru turns to leave, but stops. Tells Kakashi he thinks it’s time to give up the hunt.

After Shikamaru leaves, Kakashi stares out the office window and wonders aloud why he’s still there when everyone important to him is gone.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Sakura comes to him in a dream. She’s older - ethereal yet weary-looking. She reminds him why he needs to stay, about the good he brings to the village, to the world. When she goes to leave, he chases her, promises to find her. She looks puzzled.

“Why, sensei? I was never lost in the first place.”

Kakashi wakes up in tears.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

When Kakashi makes his weekly trip to the memorial, Karin is there. He’s tired and his memory is fuzzy; he doesn’t remember her at first. When he does, he’s surprised. He didn’t think she’d stay in the village without Sasuke.

“Visiting Konoha, huh?”

“Hardly.” She huffs. “I never left.”

“Strange. I never see you around.”

“I keep a low profile. The village isn’t especially kind to Orochimaru’s castoffs.”

“Why do you stay, then?”

Karin pauses, her fingers hovering over Sasuke’s name. When she speaks, it’s slow, deliberate.

“Because that’s what he would’ve wanted. For me to carry on in his stead.”

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi dreams of Sakura again. She seems disconcerted that he acknowledges her - you weren’t supposed to know that I’m here, sensei - but speaks with him anyway. It’s a soft, gentle conversation, and it lulls him into a deeper, dreamless sleep.

He wakes up more rested than he has in a long time, but his mind anxious.

Sakura seemed too sentient for a figment of his subconscious.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Shizune comes to see him, asks how life as Hokage is going.

Kakashi admits it’s boring - too much paperwork, too little action. Village life has become too idyllic since the end of the war, to the point that it feels unnatural.

Shizune says she feels it too.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi starts dreaming of Sakura every night. 

He tells her silly stories about the new batch of genin trying to unmask him. She shares some of Tsunade’s most “creative” teaching techniques.

She asks him how the village is doing. He tries to explain how it’s so perfect it feels wrong, but can’t quite find the words. Her coy smile suggests she understands anyway.

He asks her to stop calling him “sensei.” She laughs and calls him “Lord Hokage.”

He thanks her for keeping his nightmares at bay. She asks him what his nightmares are, but he doesn’t answer.

After a few nights where he dreams they walk through the forest without talking, he finally opens up.

Before her, he dreamed about lightning and blood: his chidori through Rin’s chest; Obito crushed and plucking out his own eye in offering; Naruto and Sasuke’s lifeless bodies on the battlefield still holding hands; searching for Sakura in an endless maw of darkness.

Sakura holds his hand and cries. Her hand feels so real, so warm and solid, that it wakes him up.

In his next dream, he confronts her. Begs her to tell him where she went, what happened to her. Sakura goes pale. When she tries to speak, she writhes in pain as if the words she meant to say were choking her. She falls to her knees and looks up at him, still no words falling from her open mouth. But he sees it - the Root seal on her tongue. 

He wakes up angry.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi calls Sai to his office and asks questions about Root. Even though it’s been years since Danzo’s execution, Sai can’t answer and it leaves Kakashi frustrated as well as angry.

That night, Kakashi doesn’t dream of Sakura. He dreams of the absence of her.

He dreams about capturing Sasuke and bringing him back. Of entrusting Sakura's rescue to Naruto and Sai. Of their return, empty-handed.

He dreams of Naruto’s grief and anger and disbelief - that Root (Danzo) captured Karin, but found no trace of Sakura. Of Sai's silent lips and clenched fists.

The memories fall away and Kakashi calls for Sakura in the dark void of his dream until his throat is raw. 

She doesn’t come.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi sees Karin at the memorial again.

She seems agitated, on edge, but she extends a gruff invite to her place for tea.

He declines.

She tells him she lives in a small house painted yellow at the foot of Hokage Mountain, if he changes his mind. 

That night he dreams of Obito, of the Tobi mask falling away revealing his old teammate. Of cruel taunts - so, poor, tragic, Kakashi lost another kunoichi - and cryptic denials - come on, Kakashi, I’d need more than one Sharingan to capture that sweet little cherry - and unfounded accusations - sounds like an inside job, if you ask me. 

Kakashi wakes in a cold sweat.

Then he goes in search of Karin’s house.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Karin seems almost relieved to see him. She opens the door and he steps inside. Immediately, he can feel it; Sakura’s chakra signature rolls over him like a wave.

Karin leads him to the basement.

Sakura sits in a dingy, old recliner in nothing but a bra and training shorts. A crown of wires connects her to a wall of softly whirring machinery. She opens her brilliant green eyes and smiles.

“Kakashi!”

He turns to Karin. “Unhook her. Now.”

“It’s not as simple as that. If we--”

“If you don’t do it, I will.”

“No, you can’t!” Sakura screams. “If you do, the village will be destroyed!”

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi sits silently fuming in a meeting with the village council and the daimyo. They throw a lot of facts around: higher birth rates, reduced healing times for injuries, near elimination of sickness, increased shinobi numbers and quality, improved financial stability, etc. It doesn’t take long for him to realize.

“You authorized this project of Danzo’s.”

“Of course. How else do you think he got the technology to accomplish such a feat?”

“I suppose it’s pointless to petition for this project’s end.”

“We truly are sorry, Kakashi. We didn’t know your kunoichi was the one chosen for the experiment. But it has turned out so well for the village. I hope you understand.”

“I do,” Kakashi says. 

He walks out.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi visits Karin and Sakura again, asks them to tell him everything they know about Sakura’s situation: unhooking Sakura will reverse all the good her chakra network has accomplished.

Absolute, utter destruction, they say.

Kakashi seethes. “Danzo was a fucking liar.”

“Maybe.” Sakura shakes her head. “But I can’t take that chance.”

Kakashi storms off.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi summons Shikamaru.

“The safety of our civilians has been weighing on me.”

“You know something I don’t?”

“Just… been thinking. How many times has a significant threat infiltrated our security in your lifetime, Shikamaru?”

“Point taken. What do you want to do?”

“I want you to develop a village-wide evacuation plan. Be sure to include provisions for temporary shelter and two week’s worth of rations for every family. I expect a working model ready for drills by the end of the month.”

“Yes, Lord Hokage.”

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

Kakashi arrives at Karin’s house with Sai. He tells her to leave, to follow the rest of her neighbors to their designated rendezvous point.

“She’s gonna hate you.”

“I know.”

When Kakashi enters the basement, Sakura is waiting for him, ready to strike. 

“Don’t make me fight you.”

“It’s time to let go, Sakura.”

“I can’t. The village will collapse and people will die. I can’t have that on my conscience. I can’t be why Konoha disappears!”

“Konoha isn’t a place. It’s the people who live with the will of fire in their hearts. And those people have been evacuated. They are safe. Konoha will survive.”

Sakura squares her shoulders and chin, digging in her heels. “I’m a kunoichi. My purpose is to be of use to my village, no matter the sacrifice.”

“You are of more use to your village free than you will ever be wasting away in this damned basement!”

“But the village--”

“Fuck the village. It can burn to the ground as long as I know you’re safe. You’re it, Sakura. You’re all I have left.” Kakashi's voice cracks. “I can’t lose you to this.”

Sakura lowers her fists. “I’m scared.”

“I know. But it will be okay, I promise.” Kakashi presses the button on his earpiece. “Shikamaru, are we good to go?” After the affirmative answer crackles in his ear, Kakashi turns back to Sakura. “Do you trust me?”

Sakura nods.

“Sai is waiting for us upstairs. He’s ready to fly us out of here if needed.” Kakashi takes her hand. “Tell me what to do.”

“You’re sure everyone is safe?”

“I’m sure.”

“Flip that lever.”

The rumbling begins almost immediately. Kakashi scoops her up, pulling the crown from her head and smashing it to the ground. Sai spies them from his perch on his ink bird and if he’s surprised by Sakura’s presence, he doesn’t show it. They fly away, watching as a crater of rubble forms where Konoha once stood.

Sakura weeps as Kakashi holds her to his chest.

.

.

.

[ .oOo. ]

There are a lot of questions. He answers them as honestly and as vaguely as he can, leaving Sakura out of the story altogether. Some people are scared. Some are angry. Most are just thankful for their tents, their food, and their lives. This isn’t the first time they’ve had to rebuild.

After the village settles down for the night, Kakashi patrols the perimeter of the wreckage. The only thing left intact is the memorial stone. He stands there for a long time reading the names carved on its surface. The moon rises and the first chill of autumn settles in his bones.

Someone takes his hand… Sakura.

“Do you regret it?” she asks.

“No,” he answers. She shivers, so he pulls her into his arms. “Do you?”

"Yes."

The word leaves her on an exhale, as quiet and forceful as the wind. A tear escapes her, splatters against the chilled skin of his forearm.

"It's gut-wrenching, knowing what my freedom cost. I think a part of me will always feel that way." She runs her fingers over their teammates' names, slow and reverent. "But one day, maybe..."

"Then I'll hold onto it for you."

She glances at him over her shoulder, confused. "Hold onto what?"

He breathes in deep, squeezing her tight. With a kiss to her temple, he answers, "The hope for that one day."