#(although the current point in the story seems to be inching slowly toward their relationship being slightly less horrible so??)

[kingdomoftyto]

Reading GF fic is such a trip because one minute it'll be like "the brothers have a heart-to-heart about how they've wronged each other" and the next it's like "everyone is saved from a chupacabra attack by the princess of the manatees" and then sometimes it's like "here's some weird nightmare alien porn" before eventually the looming mystery gets solved like:

(And sometimes all of these things are from a single fic series)

[dracowars]

Hii! So i have seen that your request is currently open! Also that you are kind of new here (i guess? Idrk)! I was wondering if i could request one? The story goes like draco pulls a prank on y/n (any kind really its up to you!) then later on showers her with his love (gift too because we all know he got the ✨ money money ✨ so thats it! (Its very fluffy im sorry) i hope you can do it totally alright if you cant tho!! I hope to see more of your works! God Bless💗

fun and games | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where draco takes pranking y/n too far

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! <3 since this is my first ever request i'm a little bit nervous >.< i really hope that you like it and that it lives up to your expectations! i feel honored that you trusted me with your request even though i'm still pretty new on here ♡

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

You can't remember when it started, you only know that it did and that it slowly starts to annoy the hell out of you. Not because you don't understand fun, you really do, but you can't even spend a quiet minute with your boyfriend Draco anymore since he started acting like Fred and George Weasley, always pulling a prank on you with every possibility he got.

Some of those were actually funny and made you laugh, but at some point it just got too much. Every time you are with him now, you expect something to happen. Whether it is that he calls you to him to show you fantastic beasts that do not exist, making you look like a fool while he laughs, or that he hides two of your belongings somewhere around Hogwarts, telling you that it is actually three objects that you then have to search for like crazy. He even gave you Veritaserum once, just to ask you an endless number of questions which you inevitably had to answer. All of that you already went through. But today was somewhat different.

Draco did not pull a prank on you for weeks now, which you can not complain about at all, in fact you are quite happy about it. After his last prank you asked him to finally stop and it seems like he listened to you. Still, something feels very weird.

You haven't seen Draco today, which is rather unusual for you and your relationship because neither of you can last longer than a few hours without the other. You have just come out of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class and look around the hallway, expecting to spot him somewhere, while your classmates walk past you to head to their break. Usually, Draco always picks you up after class so that you can spend time together until your next course. But you don't see him anywhere today.

At the end of the hallway you spot Fred and George trying to sell one of their newest and greatest inventions to a first-year. You shake your head and roll your eyes. These two are probably responsible that your boyfriend had his prank phase, even though he absolutely despises every Weasley. Of course Draco would never admit it, but you think that he copied a lot from them.

"Leave the poor child alone, Weasley's", you tell them while passing them, not wanting to wait longer for Draco to pick you up. Regrettably you shouldn't have opened your mouth because all of a sudden they apparate in front of you out of nowhere, making you flinch and taking a step back. "What, Y/N? Did I hear you correctly?", George says, wiggling his eyebrows at Fred. "You really want to test our new creation?", Fred adds with a smile.

"No, thank you. I've had enough of pranks lately", you assure them with a forced smile. Obviously offended by your statement, the red haired twins cross their arms over their chest, giving you a disapproving look before vanishing again. Shaking your head, you make your way to your common room, hoping to meet Draco on the way there. Unfortunately, that does not happen and you slowly start to have a bad feeling. Where is he?

Once you arrive in the dungeons, you say the password and enter the common room, which is cosy warm in contrast to the cold corridors outside. After all, it's winter; what else should you expect from the temperature? Several Slytherin's buzz around, sitting at the green fire or studying at the tables. But still, no sign of Draco.

You spot Crabbe and Goyle on one of the sofas, who have their eyes focused on you. As soon as they realize that you look back at them, they burst into giggles and look away as if nothing happened. Their weird behavior lets you frown in confusion. Before you can confront them about it, Pansy suddenly appears right in front of you and thus into your field of vision.

"Y/N! We want to go down to the lake in a few minutes. It's frozen solid for the first time this year! Do you want to join us?", she offers, her outfit already perfectly adapted to the cold temperature outside. "Do you know where Draco is?", you blurt out, not answering to her question at all. "No? Why would I?", Pansy responds irritated.

You loudly breathe out. "Nevermind. Enjoy your trip to the lake", you wish her and give her a small smile, then walk past her and towards your room in the girls' dormitories. You don't miss the look that Crabbe and Goyle give you as well as their giggles when you make your way out of the big room though.

While walking your gaze falls on something laying on the ground and you immediately stop in your tracks abruptly. You bend down and pick it up in amazement, a now much bigger smile forming on your lips. In your delicate hand you're now holding a rose petal. Looking in front of you, you notice more rose petals on the floor. They seem to show you the way to your room.

It must have been Draco, he definetely wants to surprise you after a stressful day, you are sure about that. Quickly and with unbelievable enthusiasm you follow the path to your closed door. You imagine how you will open the door and come into your room, there will be a romantic atmosphere with warm candlelight and Draco will lovingly greet you, hug you and kiss you until-

SPLASH

You have just opened the door when suddenly a huge mass of cold water falls down on you, completely soaking you from head to toe. Because of the shock and the sudden coldness surrounding you, you gasp for air. In front of you, you do not see your desired romantic atmosphere or any candles, but only your laughing boyfriend.

"I got you again!", Draco rejoices and praises himself while you can only watch him in shock. You look down at yourself and lift one of your feet out of the puddle beneath you which you are now standing in. Water drips from your hair and your uniform to the floor. Your boyfriend's cheeky laugh echoes in your ears. Slowly your whole body begins to tremble, although you are not sure wheather it comes from the cold water or from the anger boiling up inside of you.

Assuming that you find the successful prank as funny as he does, he keeps laughing, not noticing your anger yet. "Fred and George did the same prank with Weaselbee the other day, so I had to try it out as well. It worked! Crabbe and Goyle helped me set it up and-"

"I hate you so much!", you scream at him angrily, no longer able to keep your anger under control. Draco's expression falls immediately, obviously not expecting this kind of a reaction. You are still stiffly standing under the door frame, stretching your arms away from your body to somehow escape the extreme cold, water still running down, even under your clothes. "Why do you never know when it's time to stop?! I thought you wanted to surprise me!"

A little taken aback, Draco slowly approaches you while you are busy with wringing out your wet hair. "Don't you dare touch me now, Draco Malfoy!", you command and he obeys your words, stopping a few inches in front of you. "Love, it was just supposed to be fun..", he mumbles dejected, insecurely rocking back and forth on his feet, slowly realizing his mistake.

"Yeah, of course. For you it's always all fun and games until someone dies!", you angrily rebuke him. "I'm completely wet, I'm damned cold, as if it wasn't already cold enough outside, and all I wanted is to spend a relaxing and nice afternoon with my boyfriend who, as always, only got nonsense in his mind and not thinks about his girlfriend's feelings!", you complain, getting rid of your wet cloak while bumping into him with your shoulder as you walk past, throwing it onto your bed. You sit down next to it on the soft mattress and take off your soaking wet shoes as well. For a few minutes there is nothing but silence between you two.

"Y/N..", Draco breaks the silence, but you just shoot him a scathing glance, your lower lip now trembling from the coldness surrounding your body. "I don't want to hear anything, Draco. Really", you scoff and roll your eyes, standing up to finally get out of your uncomfortable clothes. "Can you leave, please? I want to change", you ask him reproachfully, but he doesn't move a single bit.

"I'm responsible for this so let me help you, okay? I'm sorry", he says, sincerity in his sad voice. You can't even answer him as he already pulls out his wand and casts a spell you don't recognize. The puddles on the floor disappear and your clothes are suddenly dry again. All that is left is the unbearable cold around you. Freezing, you draw your cloak tighter around you and give Draco a very small but thankful smile.

He looks at you thoughfully before spreading his arms to invite you into a warm hug, which you gladly accept. Even though you're mad at him, he still manages to make you soften again. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist and he gently strokes your back with one hand in hopes to warm you up at least a little bit, then places a gentle kiss of the top of your head and hugs you even tighter, pulling you closer to his much warmer body. He can clearly feel your body tremble against his. "I'm really sorry, love. I hope you can forgive me for my stupid behavior..", he breathes into your ear, loosening your arms around his waist to take your ice-cold hands in his.

He closely examines your face, searching for any hint of what your answer could be like. No longer able to resist his pleading stare and shimmering gray eyes, you slowly nod to assure him that you will forgive him. Of course you will; you love him way too much to let something this silly destroy your relationship. More than happy with your answer, he cups your cheeks between his hands, his silver ring coldy pressing against your skin, and gives you a loving kiss.

"I will make up for it, I promise", he speaks against your lips after you broke the kiss, his thumb caressing your lower lip softly. "As long as you stop those stupid pranks, idiot", you roll your eyes, still feeling a tiny bit upset about the incident. A little chuckle escapes his lips and he pulls you close against him again. "Let's warm you up first, hm?", Draco whispers and before you know it he has apparated both of you back into the common room. Because everyone left to go to the lake you're now completely alone in the big room.

Without your consent, Draco pulls you onto one of the couches near the fireplace so you can warm up. With the help of a spell, he increases the flame a little more. Out of nowhere he throws you a fluffy, thick blanket and wraps you in it, your body now slowly but surely heating up.

While you're still busy making yourself comfortable, Draco extinguishes all the lights in the room except for a few candles, which dip the quiet room into a soothing light, creating a relaxing atmosphere for you two.

"Are you feeling warmer already? Do you need something else? What about a hot chocolate?", he questions you, still feeling extremly horrible for what he made you go through. "A hot chocolate sounds very nice, actually", you accept his offer, deciding to take advantage of the situation, innocently smiling at him. It does not even take him one single second and he suddenly vanishes into thin air. Shaking your head but smiling to yourself you watch the flame in the fireplace while you wait for him to return.

To your amazement, it takes him a lot longer than you expected and that just for a simple hot chocolate. After about a quarter of an hour he pops up again in front of you all of a sudden, two steaming cups in his hands. He serves you your hot drink with a cheeky smile on his face. "As requested: one perfectly hot chocolate, but not nearly as hot as you", he winks at you before making himself comfortable next to you.

"What took you so long?", you ask and take a sip, skillfully ignoring his statement. "Had to.. run a few more errands, you know. I'm a very busy man", he smirks at you, holding the, in his hands much smaller looking, cup. You look at him in disbelief and then discover a few white spots on his uniform that make you raise your eyebrows in confusion. "It's snowing outside?", you question and point to the snowflakes on his cloak that are slowly melting in the warm room. "Care to explain why you were outside?"

"Uh, well.. I just wanted to please my lovely girlfriend", he explains and takes something out of his pockets. You immediately know what it is and sit up excitedly, but before you can grab it, you pull your hand back. "That's not another one of your pranks, is it?", you pout and look in his eyes for an answer, any sign that this really is just normal candy from Honeydukes and not some experiments he bought from Fred and George.

"Come on, Y/N! They are not poisoned. Eat now or I froze myself to death out there for nothing", Draco assures you and you decide to trust him, carefully opening the candy, revealing the actually normal, delicious sweets that you love so much. Happily eating them you don't even notice at first how Draco keeps staring at you, one of his fingers nervously tapping the rim of his cup.

"Y/N?", Draco finally clears his throat, sitting up straight while you look at him with big expectant eyes. The way he pronounces your name, how the letters roll of his tongue create goosebumps all over your skin, causing you to cuddle up more into the cozy blanket, waiting for him to continue. His gaze wanders back and forth between you and his warm drink, of which he has not drunk very much yet.

He opens his mouth to say something again but notices the goosebumps on your arm, the alarm bells in his head loudly going off immediately. "Are you still cold? Wait a second!", Draco tells you, without waiting for an answer, and jumps up, running to his prefect room and coming back a few seconds later to give you one of his green Slytherin sweaters. "Here. Put it on, it will warm you up", he commands and examines you carefully as you pull it over your head, the pleasant scent of his perfume clouding your senses instantly.

Your cheeks turn a little bit red, on the one hand because of the extreme warmth that now surrounds you and on the other hand because Draco gives you such a sweet and tender look, as if you are the most beautiful and precious being in this world; which, in fact, you definetely are to him. He moves closer to you and puts his arm around your shoulders so that you can lean against his chest and snuggle up to him. Draco gently runs his fingers over your hair, over your cheeks and to your chin, which he slightly lifts up, making you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for a while, you just look each other deep in the eyes. Draco brushes one strand of hair behind your ear that fell into your face and slowly leans in. You close your eyes, waiting for him to connect your lips, but he teasingly stops shortly before, his breath fanning against your skin. "I have something for you.. as an apology", he gently whispers and you open your eyes in surprise. "You don't have to give me anything, Draco. I've already forgiven you, you know that", you smile at him, cupping one of his cheeks which makes him smile.

He takes your hand in his and squeezes it lightly, kisses your knuckles and then shakes his head with a sigh. "I know. Still, I feel bad and want to give you something. Something very meaningful and significant", he declares, reaching into his pocket once again. Eventually, his secrecy makes you kind of curious anyway and you look at his hand eagerly, waiting to see what the gift will be.

Draco pulls out a small black box covered in velvet. Your curious gaze focuses on the box, which contents are still unknown to you until he finally opens it and reveals a beautiful, gold shimmering and, above all, quite expensive looking necklace. Small moons and stars hang on it, but the real focus of the indescribably lovely piece of jewelry is in the middle. The bigger splendid pendant attached to it is none other than his name, Draco, written in an artistic curved font. Overwhelmed, your mouth drops open.

"Actually, I wanted to give it to you for our anniversary this year, as a thanks for sticking around with me for so long, no matter how stupid and silly and annoying I was. Somehow it just felt like the right moment to give it to you now", Draco explains in a calm voice, no sight of the silly boy from a few hours ago, and takes the necklace out of its box, gesturing that you should turn around so he can carefully place it around your neck. He leaves a few butterfly kisses along your neck before you turn around to him again, immediately touching the pendant with your fingertips, slightly pressing it against your soft skin.

"I thought I would give you my first name as long as I can't give you my last", Draco smiles timidly, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye as you pull him into a tight embrace. "D-Draco.. I don't know what to say.. I love you so much", you sob into his neck, placing a kiss right there. His arms wrap around you and he breathes out contentedly and somewhat relieved. "I was afraid that you would reject me..", he whispers nearly inaudible, more to himself than to you.

"I would never even think about rejecting you! But do you really promise that you will make it come true, Draco? That you will give me the honor to receive your last name?", you ask seriously, retreating a bit so you are able to look at his handsome face. A smile creeps its way onto his lips at your so serious but also hopeful facial expression. "I don't want anything more in my life than that, darling", Draco clarifies honestly and then takes the pendant with his name on it between his thumb and index finger. "This is a promise", he repeats softly and gives you a quick but loving kiss.

Despite the short kiss, you feel a pleasant warmth inside of you and the butterflies flutter around in your stomach. You put your hands around his neck and can't help but grin brightly, trying to hide it by biting down on your lower lip. Immediately, Draco's thumb comes up to your lip and stops you from doing so, looking back and forth between your shiny eyes and plump lips.

The next kiss you share is so passionate and with so much love that you forget everything around you in a matter of seconds, fading out your surroundings. Now, there is only you and Draco. And a promise that you hold close to your heart.

[bush-viper-cutie]

“The Sickening Proof” || YEAR 3 – Ch.37 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 1/8/2021

Word count: 3, 076

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

 The next chapter will be posted either later today or early tomorrow! :D

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Snape might as well have been a terrifying shrieking shack ghost. He certainly got the right type of reaction from everyone.

Hermione let off a loud, shrill scream. Lupin jumped a foot in the air and turned. Harry went white as a sheet, though not as white as Ron. Sirius Black whirled so fast Heather thought he’d make himself puke. She just stared, dumb-founded at her Head of House for not only catching them out after hours, but outside of Hogwarts grounds after hours and outside of Hogsmeade visits. Maybe she’d be the one puking.

Snape moved slowly in a hunched crouch, inching towards Lupin as he aimed at his heart, arm fully extended and unwavering. He was a predator ready to strike and it stilled the air around them. “Thank you, Potters, for leaving the cloak behind for me. It came very useful.”

As still and calculated as Snape looked, he spoke from breaths. Heather could see it was a great struggle to contain his look of triumph, though she could still see it plainly in his eyes.

“Not expecting me, Lupin?” Snape’s eyes glittered as he continued to hold their silent attention perfectly. “You’d forgotten to take your Potion tonight, Lupin – not surprising considering how relentlessly unreliable you prove to be. And… like the responsible dog-sitter I am… I took a gobletful along with me to your office. How very lucky was I, that there, open on your desk, was a certain map.”

Snape’s eyes flickered to Harry and Heather for a second, letting them know they never had him fooled. Heather swallowed and began to shiver with fear. Surely, this was their last year attending Hogwarts… whether they made it through tonight or not.

“One glance,” Snape continued, “and I knew everything I needed to know. I saw you run along the passage and out of sight.”

Lupin licked his lips and began speaking with a quiver. “Severus – ”

“I’ve told the Headmaster again. And again,” Snape spat the words out like venom. “That you’ve been the one helping Black into the castle. And here’s the proof. If only I had guessed you’d be using this old place as your hideout – Only I never dreamed you’d have the nerve.”

“Severus, you’re making a mistake,” Lupin held his hand down and out, as if trying to physically lower Snape’s anger. “You haven’t heard it all – I can explain everything – Sirius was never going to kill Harry or Heather – ”

“I’ll be the one to call and let them know they’ll be needing TWO cells in Azkaban tonight.” Snape’s eyes gleamed fanatically. “I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless… A tame werewolf – ”

Lupin shook his head and took a step back. “You fool…” he said softly. “Would you really put an innocent man back in Azkaban over a schoolboy grudge – ”

BANG!

Thin, green, snakelike cords shot out from the tip of Snape’s ready wand and wrapped themselves around Lupin’s head, shutting his mouth tight. More twisted themselves around Lupin’s wrists and ankles, unbalancing him and knocking him to the floor. He fell with a heavy thump and groaned.

Black growled furiously and started to lunge at Snape. Snape snapped his wrist to Black and held his wand tip right between Sirius Black’s eyes, stopping him mid motion.

“Give me a reason,” Snape whispered. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.”

Heather didn’t doubt for a second that whatever it was, Snape really would do it. Nor did she doubt, that at the first chance Sirius Black saw, he’d turn into that horrible dog and rip Snape’s throat out in one quick tear. It was plainly obvious to her, that in the presence of one another, they were only both still alive by some miracle.

“Professor,” Heather whispered, trembling.

He did not take his eyes off Black. She looked around and saw Hermione pressing her hands to her mouth and turned away. Harry stood frozen, looking wide-eyed between Lupin and Snape. Ron was looking even paler and was sweating as he continued to struggle with Scabbers in his grip.

She turned back to the terrifying display of lethal hatred Snape and Black were somehow managing to rein in and remembered Professor Trelawney’s words. Tonight was the night Voldemort’s servant would return to him, and Sirius Black was the only one so far accused, no matter how much Lupin was trying to convince them of his innocence.

Hermione creaked along the floorboard to Heather, steady, so as to not make either man jump or flinch at the noise. “Professor Snape – m-maybe – it wouldn’t hurt to listen to them – to what they’re trying to explain?”

“You four are already facing certain expulsion from this school,” Snape spat. “Not only, but also currently in the presence of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your LIVES – hold, your tongues – however hard that might BE, Granger.”

“B-but i-if – if there was a mistake – ”

“SILENCE, YOU STUPID GIRL!” Sparks were sizzling out of the end of Snape’s wand as he seethed, looking very deranged. “DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

Black did not seem to flinch at the threat of Snape’s attack, still waiting for an opening with deadly patience. Hermione fell silent and stepped back.

“Vengeance is very sweet,” Snape breathed. “I did hope I would be the one to catch you…”

Black forced a laugh that deepened Snape’s glare. “Joke’s on you again. Severus. As long as this boy takes his rat up to the castle I’ll come quietly.”

Snape’s mouth twitched up in amusement. “The castle?” he said silkily. “We won’t need to go that far… All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be so pleased. They’ve been so eager to see you, Black… I wonder how long they would hold off on giving you their long-awaited kiss… Seconds? Minutes perhaps?”

Sirius Black’s color went from grey-white to egg-white at the mention. “Severus – You’ve got to hear me out,” he croaked. “The rat – look at the rat – ”

Heather stared into Snape’s eyes, wondering to see if the man’s desperate pleas would change anything in Snape’s certainty, but all she could see was a mad glint she’d never seen in anyone before.

Snape snapped his fingers and the ends of Lupin’s serpent-y ropes flew to his hands. “Come on. All of you. I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too.” His eyes flicked to Heather. “Potter. Open the door.”

Heather nodded, hoping beyond hope that this was all the prophecy working itself out correctly. She edged passed Sirius Black and put a hand on the doorknob. She looked down and twisted it, but before it could open even a centimeter, a body had rammed into her and the door had slammed shut.

She looked up at Harry with shock.

“Get out of the way, Potter. You’re in enough trouble as it is,” he snarled. “If I hadn’t been here to save your skin – ”

“But Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year! I’ve been alone with him loads of times – same with Heather. If he was working with Black, why didn’t he finish us off then?”

He had a point, maybe that truly wasn’t the intention…

“I wouldn’t fathom to understand the way a werewolf’s mind works,” Snape hissed. “Now get out of the way, Potter.”

Or maybe all Black wanted was to make sure he knew where the boy who defeated his master was. So that when he went back to Voldemort, he could tell him everything. Then Lupin wouldn’t have needed to kill them at all. He would have only needed to help Black hide until the day he needed to return…

“Harry,” Heather shoved him away hard, making him stumble back. “Sirius Black was Voldemort’s servant and he still is! Please… We’ll all just leave and go back to the castle and nothing bad will happen tonight, alright? Please?”

Harry looked at her, and back down to Lupin, up at Black, and finally back at Snape. After a moment, he took his place at the door again. “No.”

“Potter,” Snape gave a warning growl. “I will not listen to you or these – ”

“YOU’RE PATHETIC!” Harry staggered forward with the weight of his words. He meant it with all his being. “JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T LISTEN – ”

“QUIET! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!” Snape looked like he’d had enough of everything. The sparks started up again on the ends of his wand like a frayed wire ready to start a large uncontrollable fire. “Like father, like son, Potter! I’ve just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on hands and knees! You would have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – Now get out of my way, or I. Will. Make. You. GET OUT OF THE WAY POTTER!”

Before Heather could think she raised her wand, and at the same time as Harry yelled ‘Expelliarmus,’ she yelled “Flipendo!” right at Snape’s heaving chest, putting all of her pain and anger into the words.

Both Harry and Heather’s spells blasted out of their wands and hit Snape square in his chest, lifting him off the ground and sent him flying onto the wall with a thunderous thump. He fell onto the bed below him, making Ron dive for the floor. Snape’s wand had been blasted out of his hand and landed with a rolling click down at Harry’s feet.

Heather was at the bed in an instant, checking to see if Snape was alive. There was a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. She gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth. She was shaking, trembling so hard she might have fallen if she wasn’t kneeling on the bed besides Snape’s still body.

Sirius Black gave a quick, victorious laugh that snapped Heather back into the moment.

“Don’t worry. He’s only knocked out.” Black glanced at Ron and back at Harry and Heather. “You two really should have left him to me…”

This was wrong. This was so horribly wrong. Snape was knocked out and Sirius Black, convicted murderer, servant of Voldemort, was free and loose. She had been so angry she had completely lost her mind after hearing him say those awful things. She wanted to hurt him, make him regret saying Harry should have died. She could care less what he’d said about their father. Harry was everything she had. And now… this night could end in her worst fear.

“We attacked a teacher…” Hermione was shaking her head furiously, staring at Snape’s body. “We – we attacked a teacher!”

Heather sniffed. She’d have run and hugged Hermione if this was any other situation. It had really only been Harry and her that attacked him.

“We’re going to be in so much trouble – !”

“We were already going to get expelled, Hermione,” Ron groaned from the floor.

Sirius Black had managed to untie Lupin and they both stood quickly.

Lupin rubbed his wrists and mouth. “Thank you, Heather, Harry.”

Heather shook her head, regretting her actions immensely.

“This doesn’t mean we believe you,” Harry replied.

“No, of course not.” Lupin nodded. “I think it’s time we show you the proof.”

Black turned to Ron. “Give me Peter. Now.”

Ron held Scabbers closer to his chest. “Come off it,” he whimpered. “Are you trying to tell us he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? That’s just… That’s mental,” he said weakly. “Peter can turn into a rat – there are millions of them! How’s he know this one is Peter if he was locked up in Azkaban!”

Lupin turned to Black with a puzzled look that made Heather’s heart stop and her stomach flip.

“How DID you find out he was here?” Lupin asked with a slight frown.

Black stared at Lupin as he extended out his hand like a claw. He bent his elbow and in one exasperated motion pulled out a wrinkled paper from an inside pocket. He smiled and handed it to Lupin, who took it and smoothed it out.

Harry inched closer and Heather followed suit, peering around Lupin’s shoulder to look down at the very same photograph Heather and Harry had seen of the Weasleys the previous summer holiday. It was a Daily Prophet clipping of Ron and his family posing to show off the vacation they had won, and Scabbers was clinging to Ron’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Ron croaked.

“Your family on vacation,” Heather whispered, stepping back.

“Mental!” Ron yelled.

“How did you come by this?” Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

Black gritted his teeth. “Fudge. When he came down to inspect Azkaban, he gave me his paper.” Black laughed weakly. “And there he was. Right on the front page. On this boy’s shoulder… I knew him at once… How many times had I seen him transform? And the caption… it said he was going back to Hogwarts… Back where Harry and Heather were…”

Lupin stared at Sirius black with wide-eyes and in total disbelief. Heather felt sick.

Lupin looked back at the picture and pointed. “Merlin...” He looked from the picture to Scabbers and back. “His paw.”

Black nodded.

“What about it!” Ron looked down at Scabbers.

“He’s got a tow missing,” Black said flatly.

Lupin looked at Scabbers incredulously. “Of course… So brilliant. He cut it off himself.”

“Right when I cornered him. Right before he transformed. He yelled for the whole street to hear. Before I could curse him he blew apart the street and killed everyone within twenty feet of him… and sped down the sewer with the other filthy rats.”

“Scabbers probably got in a fight with another rat!” Ron looked to Hermione, Heather, and Harry for support, but they all stayed very quiet. “He can’t be Peter, he’s been in my family for – ”

“Twelve years, isn’t that right?” Black snapped.

“Rats don’t live that long, Ron.” Lupin looked down at Scabbers. “That’s an abnormally long time for even magical rats.”

“No, we’ve just been taking good care of him!”

“He looks sick and underweight. I’m guessing he started getting like this right around the time when he heard Sirius had finally escaped.”

Ron was shaking his head. “No. No. It was that cat! That monster! He’s been scaring Scabbers ill! That mad cat!”

“He’s not mad.” Black bent down and pet Crookshanks as he purred between his legs. “He recognized him for what he was immediately. He even tried to help me. Tried to bring him to me and couldn’t. Then he tried to bring ME to him. Stole the Gryffindor passwords for me.”

Poor Neville. Heather was feeling a little less ill as everything was slowly getting clearer, to her immense and relieving surprise.

“He tried relentlessly for me. Then he said Peter faked his death – bit himself and left blood on the bed – he must have supposed if it worked once it could work again – ”

Something clicked and Heather felt like puking again. She shook her head. “He really is Peter… And he knew you’d come to finish him off – ”

“That’s why he faked his death! Why he’s been running!” Harry yelled, coming to the same conclusion Heather had just come to. “He knew you’d murder him like you murdered our parents!”

“I will murder him!” Black yelled back.

“We should have let Snape take you – ”

“Harry – ” Lupin put up his hands quickly. “All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed them and Peter tracked him down – But it was the other way around! Peter betrayed them, and Sirius tracked him down!”

Heather stepped forward, refusing to let Lupin continue with the lies. “No. We know Sirius was their Secret-Keeper, Peter couldn’t have betrayed them. Only HE could. Only the Secret-Keeper could betray them.”

“Precisely.” Lupin stared at her.

She blinked several times. “Peter wasn’t their Secret-Keeper…”

“I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment.” Black’s sunken eyes darkened with pained regret and he looked down as he continued. “I Persuaded them to use him as their Secret-Keeper instead of me… The night they died I had arranged to check on Peter. To make sure he was still safe. But when I got to his hiding place he wasn’t there. There wasn’t any sign of a struggle. I got scared and headed to your parent’s house right away… That’s when I saw it had been destroyed… and their bodies… I realized what Peter must have done… He betrayed them… But it’s my fault they’re dead. I as good as killed them – ” his voice caught and he turned away.

Lupin, looking down, shook his head. “Enough… Let’s really prove what happened. Ron,” he stepped over to Ron and extended his hand. “Give me that rat. I’ll force him to show himself. It won’t hurt him if he really is a rat.”

Scabbers was struggling like crazy in Ron’s grip. Ron looked down at him, and finally handed him over to Lupin. Scabbers started squeaking and squealing at the top of his tiny lungs, thrashing and twisting in Lupin’s hands.

Lupin turned to Sirius, who was back to his ferocious-looking self, teeth bared and all. “Ready, Sirius?”

Black nodded.

Lupin handed Sirius his wand. “Do the honors.”

Black snatched it from him at once. “Gladly!” He pointed the wand and a bright flash of white-blue light erupted from the tip, engulfing Scabbers’ body.

Lupin had let go and jumped away, and for a moment Scabbers was suspended mid-air and thrashing wildly. Ron yelled. And the rat hit the floor.

For a few seconds nothing happened, and then the rat started growing. It arched its spine and held his ears down. His tail began to shrink as his head and hands grew and turned from worm-pink to pale-pink. In a quick blink the rat turned into a grotesque child-sized creature and in another quick blink there was a man cowering in the very spot Scabbers had been.

Heather quickly turned and threw up under one of the farther boarded up windows, clutching her stomach and holding back her hair as she did.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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[fatoomie2801]

his queen | kyoya tategami

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────────────────────

Metal Fusion

"Is there a Madoka here?" an unknown person asked.

"Yes," a girl with short brown hair responded. "I'm Madoka. Is there anything you need?"

"I need to fix... my bey..." the unknown person managed to say before falling on the floor unconscious, her almost entirely destroyed bey slipping out of her hand onto the floor in front of her. Madoka gasped with concern as she rushed to the person's side, calling someone named Gingka for help. Gingka carried the person downstairs and laid them on the bed in a spare room whilst Madoka fetched food and water for when they woke up. She also retrieved a towel and wet it with cold water, placing it on the forehead of the young girl who lay in the bed, hoping that she would wake up soon. Gingka remained by the side of the bed whilst Madoka inspected the girl's bey.

"Earth Columba 145WD. A balance type beyblade. I wonder what caused it to become so damaged like this," Madoka thought out loud. "This will take a really long time to repair."

A couple of days passed and the young girl remained unconscious in the bed, Gingka keeping an eye on her and Madoka working endlessly on repairing her bey. Gingka studied her features closely. Her skin was tanned and she had long, dark brown hair that reached all the way down to her lower back. Her hair was held together towards the ends with a golden clasp. As for her attire, she wore a white crop top, beige trousers, a beige jacket with sleeves that stopped just above her elbows, brown gloves, and brown shoes. She also wore a brown belt around her hips, which held all of her bey equipment, things such as her bey holder, launcher, and bey pointer. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with gold jewellery, and she wore a simple golden hoop nose ring. Gingka was sure he had never seen her before and wondered where she had come from and what had happened to her to leave her in such a state.

Soon enough, she woke up and was met with Gingka sitting beside the bed.

"Madoka! She's awake!" he exclaimed as he ran out of the room. He returned with Madoka who had brought food and water for the girl. "Hey, are you okay?" Gingka questioned.

"Yeah, I guess. Where am I?" the girl responded.

"You're still at the mechanic shop. This is one of the spare rooms we have but the main part of the store is upstairs. It's my dad's store by the way," Madoka explained.

"What happened?" the girl questioned.

"You fell unconscious as soon as you walked in and it's been a couple of days since then," Madoka answered. "What's your name?"

"Ah, I'm Kiara. Kiara Otori. It's nice to meet you, Madoka and..." Kiara trailed off as she looked at the young boy with spiky red hair and mostly blue attire.

"Gingka. Gingka Hagane," Gingka finished off her sentence.

"Nice to meet you Gingka. Thank you, both of you, for letting me stay here and taking care of me," Kiara continued. "But what about my bey? Where's Columba?"

"I'm trying my best to repair it but it's going to take a lot longer than usual," Madoka replied.

"Yeah, your bey was really trashed," Gingka added. "What happened?"

"I lost a really important battle," Kiara answered, lowering her head as she spoke. Madoka and Gingka looked at her with sympathetic expressions on their faces.

"To who?" Gingka asked.

"My boyfriend. Well, I guess he's my ex now," Kiara replied. Madoka placed a hand on Kiara's shoulder, ensuring that she could trust them and tell them her story. "He's a really strong blader. All he wanted was to become stronger and stronger until he was the most powerful blader in the world. He had always wanted to use my power and strength to his advantage, and when I refused to let him do that, he crushed my bey and took everything I had from me."

"That's so sad. I'm so sorry, Kiara," Madoka sympathised. "It'll be alright. I am trying my best to get your bey repaired so that it'll be just like a brand new one. You can stay here until you feel better, okay?"

Kiara smiled at Madoka's kind actions and looked at Gingka as he began to speak.

"Wanna meet my friends?" he asked, excitedly. Kiara smiled and agreed to go with Gingka to the bey park, Gingka making sure she took it easy as she had just recently woken up.

Upon arrival, the two walked into a room filled with small bey stadiums surrounded by young bladers who battled passionately with each other. Kiara followed Gingka as he led her to meet his friends.

"This is Kenta," Gingka gestured towards a small boy with green hair, brown eyes, and an adorable smile. Kiara crouched down to his height as she was a couple of inches taller than Gingka, and wanted to greet the little boy whilst being level with him. She reached her hand out in order to shake his.

"I'm Kiara," she smiled. "It's really nice to meet you. Aren't you just adorable?" She softly pinched his cheeks, causing both him and Gingka to chuckle in response.

"Nice to meet you too, Kiara," Kenta responded, immediately taking a liking to the girl. "Do you wanna battle?"

"Sure," she replied. "Ah, wait, Kenta. I don't have my bey with me. It's being repaired by Madoka."

"Oh yeah," Gingka remembered. "Let me go and get you a temporary bey to battle with for the time being, okay? Wait here." Gingka left and returned with a bey for Kiara to use while she battled Kenta.

"Okay. 3! 2! 1! Let it rip!" Kenta and Kiara both launched their beys into the stadium.

"Go Sagittario!" Kenta ordered.

"Go now! Get him!" Kiara retaliated.

"What?! Kenta, why are you battling without telling us?" a trio of young boys questioned.

"Yeah, and who's this?" the one with spiky blue hair asked.

"This is Kiara, you guys," Gingka answered instead. He waited until the battle was over to introduce her to the trio.

"Go Sagittario! Flame Claw!" Kenta used his special move and sent Kiara's bey flying out of the stadium. "Yay! I won! I won! Did you see that Gingka?"

"Yes I did, Kenta," Gingka responded, ruffling the young boy's hair.

"If I had Columba, your victory would not have been so easy, okay?" Kiara laughed as she high fived Kenta. "Well done, though. You seem to be a strong little blader."

"Thank you. I'm working really hard to become just as strong as Gingka, you know," he replied. Gingka laughed and ensured Kenta that with a lot of hard work and practice, that day was sure to come soon. He then turned to Kiara to introduce her to the trio of young boys from earlier.

"Kiara, this is Osamu," Gingka pointed to the boy with brown hair and a red shirt. "Takashi," he gestured to the taller boy with blonde hair and a pale blue shirt. "And Akira," he said, as he pointed towards the remaining boy in the group, the shortest of the bunch, with dark blue hair and a matching coloured shirt. After meeting them, they all demanded to battle Kiara, and she agreed, spending the rest of her day battling Gingka's friends. Although the bey she currently possessed was temporary, she managed to use it to her advantage, and by the end of it all, she had won the most battles.

"Wow, she's such a good blader!" Akira commented. Kiara smiled shyly.

"She hasn't won against me though, remember?" Kenta added, facing the much taller girl. "I beat you with my Flame Sagittario." 

Kiara bent her knees so that she could meet Kenta's height. "I will beat you someday, Kenta. Make sure you practice hard so that I won't have to go easy on you when my Earth Columba is repaired, okay?" She tapped her finger on the young boy's nose as she spoke. Kenta giggled at both her words and actions.

"I'll train hard every day with Gingka and Benkei, isn't that right?" Kenta spoke as he looked up at Gingka. The name Benkei was unfamiliar to Kiara so she stood back up to Gingka's height to question who he was.

"I'm right here," a taller, larger person with purple hair and a beanie walked into the room. "Hey, Gingka. Hey, Kenta. Who's this?"

"Hey, Benkei. This is Kiara. Can you believe I beat her with my Sagittario?" Kenta answered.

"You go, Kenta! That must be the result of the special training we did together," reacted Benkei. He was proud of Kenta and this showed Kiara that they must all have a close relationship. Kiara and Benkei spent some time battling each other, Kiara losing to him every time. She slowly became frustrated that she couldn't use Columba, her partner, but knew that there was nothing she could do about her situation.

~ ~ ~

"You love me, don't you, my dove?"

"I do, I promise, but I can't let you do this. It's wrong to steal power from others, when will you understand that?!"

"Seems to me like you're the one who needs to understand! Let it rip!"

"Argh, let it rip! Go Columba! Special move: Harmonious Descent!"

"That won't work on me, my dove. You of all people should know that! Go now!"

"I beg you, don't do this!"

"If only you truly loved me, you'd understand! Get out of my way! Do it now! Tear this little pigeon to pieces!"

~ ~ ~

"Kiara?" Gingka tapped Kiara on her shoulder, disturbing her from her deep thoughts. "You okay?"

────────────────────

the rest of chapter 1 is available on wattpad:

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Winter Solstice Gift for apprenticedmagician

This story was written for @apprenticedmagician, who was my giftee for the 2020 Wangxian Winter Solstice Gift Exchange. Thank you for letting me write for you, and I really hope that you enjoy this ♥ You're right after all, Wei Wuxian deserves to feel less scared around good puppers.

Happy winter solstice, everyone! ♥

Read on AO3

*****

A Brothers' Love

It begins when Jiang Cheng shares that he’s thinking of getting a dog.

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian whines, looking to where his brother sits by the pier next to him. He pouts at him. “Why would you want a dog? Wouldn’t a kitten be nicer? Cuter?”

“What do you care what type of animal I’m thinking of getting for a pet? You don’t spend enough time here for it to be of any real nuisance to you,” Jiang Cheng says, crossing his arms as he frowns.

And well, yes. He is speaking the truth. Although Wei Wuxian is welcome to come and go as he pleases, Lotus Pier no longer remains his home anymore. It will forever be his childhood home, and remain the place which holds so many treasured memories spent with his siblings. But home for Wei Wuxian nowadays is wherever Lan Wangji is. A fact which Jiang Cheng knows well.

It still doesn’t mean that Wei Wuxian is all that fond of the idea of a dog running around the place when he does take the time to visit though.

“Anyway,” Jiang Cheng continues. “I’d make sure it never got in your way whenever you’re around. It’s not as if I’d just leave it alone with you, especially not when you’re training the disciples.”

Wei Wuxian hums a response, eyes facing down as he watches his feet dangle gently in the water. He lets his thoughts wander.

The thing is, Wei Wuxian knows just how much his brother loves dogs. If it weren’t for him, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have had to give up the three he’d had as a child. He knew his brother absolutely adored them, and even thinking back Wei Wuxian still manages to feel a little guilty that it had been him and his phobia that had caused so much upset and disruption at the time.

Now that Wei Wuxian is no longer living at Lotus Pier however, he thinks Jiang Cheng should get a pet. It might even do him some good, seeing as how his brother seems to repel any companionship that could be found in the form of a partner or a friend.

Yet Wei Wuxian can’t help how an uncomfortable knot of fear has decided to bundle itself tightly in the pit of his stomach when hearing Jiang Cheng’s words.

He doesn’t want to lose his brother again.

They had finally reached a point where their relationship didn’t feel like they were avoiding the shattered pieces of glass upon the ground whenever they spoke. It will never be what they had once shared before - there’s simply too much history of hurt and misunderstandings to ever seal the cracks completely - but they at least now felt comfortable in one another’s presence. Wei Wuxian considers that having his wedding to Lan Wangji held at Lotus Pier helped to start building fresh foundations between him and his brother, as things have only gotten easier between the two of them since.

But Wei Wuxian worries that if Jiang Cheng does get himself a dog, it’ll only cause the rift that had once been between them to suddenly push them apart again. His phobia hasn’t lessened in any way over the years, and already he hates how it manages to cut short the time he sometimes spends with Jin Ling whenever he catches sight of Fairy by his side.

He doesn’t dare share such concerns with Jiang Cheng though. He doesn’t know how he’ll react if he does, and he definitely doesn’t want to make him angry.

“Wei Wuxian. Are you even listening to me?”

Jiang Cheng’s words pierce through his thoughts, pulling him out of them to where he sits at the edge pier. He leans back, resting against his forearms as he looks out at the view before him.

“You were telling me how useful having a dog could be,” Wei Wuxian says, hesitating for a brief moment before deciding to turn his head towards his brother. He watches as Jiang Cheng’s furrowed brow relaxes slightly, before he’s turning away from Wei Wuxian with a huff as he stares up at the clear sky above them.

“I know very little about dogs,” Apart from that they’re nasty and vicious, Wei Wuxian thinks. “If you wanted to know anything about rabbits though, I could help you.”

Wei Wuxian pauses briefly, his eyes growing wide. “Jiang Cheng! Wouldn’t you like a rabbit instead? Lan Zhan and I had one that just gave birth a little while ago, I’m sure you could adopt one of her bunnies. We have so many now, and -”

“I don’t want one of your rabbits,” Jiang Cheng interrupts, pulling another disappointed pout out of Wei Wuxian.

“It was worth asking.”

“No. It wasn’t,” Jiang Cheng says with a shake of his head, sighing. “Before you overthink this too much, I haven’t said that I’m actually getting a dog yet. I’m only considering it. So stop sulking.”

It isn’t until much later, once Wei Wuxian has returned to Cloud Recesses, that the idea comes to him.

He’s been complaining to Lan Wangji whilst helping his husband grade papers, asking him just how his brother could want a dog, of all the animals there are in the world.

“He’s had over sixteen years to get a pet, and he chooses now to think about a dog?” Wei Wuxian lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head sadly. “Lan Zhan, do you think he’s doing it on purpose? Maybe he’s just fed up, and he doesn’t really want me visiting Lotus Pier.”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji answers, not looking up from the paper he’s currently grading. “If Jiang Wanyin did not want Wei Ying around, he would just say.”

“Hmmmm. You’d think he would,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “It never stopped him before. But then, we haven’t been as close as we are now for some time. Maybe he’s scared.”

“Unlikely. Jiang Wangyin would speak his mind when you were teenagers also.” Lan Wangji pauses for a moment, and Wei Wuxian supposes it’s because he’s reading over one of the disciples’ words. “If Jiang Wangyin did not want Wei Ying to visit Lotus Pier anymore, why would he have been so adamant for us to marry there?”

Wei Wuxian has no counter argument for that.

“Lan Zhaaaaan,” he whines, stretching his arms out over his side of the table, leaning on it. “What should I do? Obviously I want my brother to get a dog if it makes him happy, but I don’t want to be on edge whenever I’m there. Dogs are scary!”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji hums, looking at Wei Wuxian out of the corner of his eye. His hand comes to rest upon his head, lightly stroking Wei Wuxian’s hair in a soothing gesture while he turns back to his work. “You are alright when your nephew brings Fairy with him on his visits. He is careful with your fear of her, and keeps her at a distance so as not to distress you. I suspect Jiang Wangyin would be the same.”

Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to respond, but then stops as a sudden idea comes to mind.

“... Jin Ling’s due to visit next week.”

Wei Wuxian sits up. Lan Wangji’s hand falls from his hair, the movement and Wei Wuxian’s tone prompting Lan Wangji’s full attention to pull and focus on him. He tilts his head to one side curiously.

“Wei Ying?” He asks.

“I could ask him if he’d help me get used to being around Fairy,” Wei Wuxian says, a grin slowly inching its way across his lips. “I’d get to spend more time with him while he's here, and I’d be working on beating my fear enough so that if Jiang Cheng does decide to get a dog, it won’t be so much of a problem!”

“How are you planning to get used to being around Fairy?” Lan Wangji asks, concern leaking into his words. Wei Wuxian gives a one shouldered shrug.

“I guess just by having her nearby. The more she’s there, the better it is to get used to her, right?”

The idea is perfect! Or at least, Wei Wuxian thinks it is.

When he turns to Lan Wangji however, he finds he's met with a frown.

“Wei Ying -” Lan Wangji begins, thinking over his words carefully. “- that does not seem to be the best thing to do. You are already frightened of her when she’s too close.”

“Which is why I should work on getting better on not being frightened.”

“Not by putting yourself in the most extreme situation to begin with,” Lan Wangi says, shaking his head. “Why not start smaller? Be inside a building while knowing she is outside. Watch her and your nephew from a distance whilst night hunting. Something that does not immediately expose you to her in such close proximity.”

“... Huh.” Wei Wuxian answers thoughtfully.

He taps a finger against his chin, thinking over Lan Wangji’s suggestions. It makes sense, and if he’s being honest with himself, Wei Wuxian believes he’d feel a lot better with facing his phobia one step at a time.

“Those are good ideas, Lan Zhan!”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji replies. He lifts the brush he’s holding once more, dipping it gently back into the ink kept on the desk. “I will look in the library tomorrow for you. See if there are any compositions I can learn.”

“Compositions?” asks Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji continues grading.

“They helped to manage your resentful energy before,” Lan Wangji explains. “Perhaps there is something which can help manage your fear and anxieties also.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that!”

Wei Wuxian scoots himself closer to Lan Wangji’s side, just enough that he can lean over and press a firm kiss against his cheek. Beneath his lips, he can feel how Lan Wangji twitches as an ever so small, curved smile lights up his face.

“Lan Zhan! That’s such a good idea! And you wouldn’t mind?”

Lan Wangji turns to him with an expression so soft and loving, Wei Wuxian feels his heart soar within his chest.

“For Wei Ying? Never.”

They decide that for the first attempt of tackling his phobia, the best place to do so would be alongside Lan Wangji’s rabbits.

It’s quiet and peaceful, an area which is kept well away from some of the busier places within Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian has always loved how it feels like a piece of the world that is carved out just for the two of them to retreat to whenever they wanted. With the rabbits so close by there is also something for Wei Wuxian to focus his attention on should he suddenly feel overwhelmed, although with Lan Wangji sat playing the guqin beside him, the hope is that his nerves won’t have much of a chance to get the better of him.

Lan Wangji had managed to find a few pieces of music during his searching in the end, some designed specifically for keeping calm in the face of stressful situations, while others focus more on relaxing the body enough to aid in the effectiveness in using mindfulness techniques. He had returned to the Jingshi with a selection for both him and Wei Wuxian to look through, and aside from one or two of his own choosing, Wei Wuxian had picked out the ones which he felt could be most useful to him.

Despite his surprise at hearing his uncle's request, Jin Ling hadn’t minded lending his help when Wei Wuxian spoke to him of his idea either. Neither had Sizhui, who quickly asked if there was any way he could help once he learnt about what it was they were planning to do.

“Wei Ying.”

At the sound of his name, Wei Wuxian looks to where his husband sits beside him, answering with a questioning hum. Lan Wangji’s attention is towards where Wei Wuxian’s hands are sitting within his lap, and Wei Wuxian quickly realises that it’s because he’s been fidgeting with them.

“Ah - ha…” Wei Wuxian tries to settle them, giving Lan Wangji what he hopes is a convincing enough grin. He knows well enough it doesn’t work at hiding his anxiety.

“You are nervous,” Lan Wangji says, more statement than question. “If you would rather not do this -”

“No, no,” interrupts Wei Wuxian, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine. They’re only going to be walking her nearby, after all. I can at least handle that much.”

He’s not really sure who he’s trying to convince more: his husband or himself. Instead Wei Wuxian bows his head, his hair falling like a curtain over his face. Even without looking he can feel Lan Wangji watching him with concern.

“Alright,” Lan Wangji eventually replies, likely realising just how determined Wei Wuxian is to see this through. “You must tell me if you feel overwhelmed at any point, however.”

“I will, I will,” Wei Wuxian assures, waving a hand in the air quickly before shoving it back into his lap. He doesn’t look up, instead taking in a long, deep breath.

He can do this.

He can.

He will.

“Would you like me to play you something while we wait?” Lan Wangji asks. Wei Wuxian pulls his head up at the question, turning to Lan Wangji with a nervous smile on his face.

“Please,” he says.

Lan Wangji gives a simple nod, saying nothing more. Instead, his hands go to rest upon the guqin, and it isn’t long before Wei Wuxian is hearing the delicate sound of the first few chords he begins to play.

It’s a soft tune, one which is tasked with the aim of relaxing him. Wei Wuxian’s eyes fall closed to the sound of it, letting in another deep, calming breath. He feels the soft fur of a rabbit as it hops its way into his lap, his hand automatically going to stroke it.

In the distance he can hear the sound of two very familiar voices speaking to one another. As they move closer to where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are sitting Wei Wuxian hears the light jangle of the bells Fairy wears upon her collar. His free hand tightens slightly, and Wei Wuxian tries to focus his attention on the tune of his husband's music floating gently around them.

“... still can’t get over how I’m allowed to bring Fairy into the grounds of Cloud Recesses,” Jin Ling asks.

“HanGuang-Jun received special permissions from Zewu-Jun,” Sizhui replies. “Once he learnt what Wei-Qianbei wanted to do, he agreed that keeping to a familiar space would be best.”

“I get that. It’s just that you Lans have so many rules. I can’t help it if I’m a little surprised.”

“I don’t think it was that difficult a decision for him. Even Zewu-Jun is fond of Fairy,” Sizhui pauses, and for a moment all Wei Wuxian can hear is the sound of crunching leaves as the two boys walk mixed with the jangling of bells. “I would have been more surprised if Zewu-Jun hadn’t agreed, really.”

“I bet Lan Qiren wasn’t happy though when he- Fairy, no! Come here!”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes fly open, his gaze instantly snapping in the direction of where his nephew’s shout had come from. He startles, eyes widening at how Fairy has suddenly moved so close to him. His body tenses, watching the dog stare back at him as she settles to sit upon the grass.

“Stay calm, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says beside him, still strumming his soothing melody. Although his heart beats faster in his chest at the dog's close presence, Wei Wuxian expects that the reason he’s currently not running away or pulling on his husband's sleeve is because of the music Lan Wangji has been playing for him.

Cautiously he watches Jin Ling and Sizhui rush over. Jin Ling quickly kneels beside Fairy, his hand settling just below where her collar sits. Fairy blinks, turning her head towards her master.      

“What did I say to you earlier?” Jin Ling asks. He shakes his head, affectionately stroking her fur. “I know you want to say hello, but you can’t just run to dà jiù like that. You know it scares him.”

Jin Ling looks to his uncle, and Wei Wuxian notes the concern which lingers behind his gaze.

“Sorry. I didn’t think she’d be so excitable.”  

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Wei Wuxian assures, waving his hand dismissively. He tries to smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a way he hopes is convincing. There’s still a fair distance apart between Fairy and himself, enough that Wei Wuxian thinks he can handle it.

He reaches into his lap to pick up the rabbit that still sits there, its legs kicking out in irritation at Wei Wuxian’s awkward hold.

“She probably saw all these cute ones hopping about and couldn’t resist investigating.”

“Maybe,” Jin Ling glances back towards Fairy briefly, as if looking to her for an explanation. Seeming almost amused, Sizhui moves to settle beside him.

“Is it okay if she sits here?” Jin Ling asks. “She’s not too close?”

Wei Wuxian nods, pulling the rabbit close to his chest as he continues to stroke it.

“She’s far enough away. I won’t lie and say I’m not uncomfortable, but I do feel a lot better than I usually do around her.” He pauses, tilting his head towards Lan Wangji as his smile grows wide. “Lan Zhan! Maybe that piece you’re playing really is working!”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji hums in agreement, bowing his head modestly. “There are others we should try also. See which of them is more effective.”

“HanGuang-Jun …” Sizhui starts. “I would like to help. Could you teach me some of them? You never know when they could come in useful.”

Lan Wangji nods. Wei Wuxian knows he would have never said no to him, especially not when it comes to Sizhui’s eagerness to both help and learn something new in the process. Not to mention that their son has a point: such techniques are always useful to have on hand, just in case a need for them should arise.

“You’re doing better than I thought you would for a first attempt,” Jin Ling says, settling his chin against his hand as he watches Wei Wuxian. “It’s good.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile grows soft, hearing the unspoken truth behind Jin Ling’s words. His gaze lingers on watching his nephew for a moment, before he’s looking between both Sizhui and Lan Wangji too.

Despite the small bud of anxiety that still remains nestled inside him at Fairy’s presence, his heart manages to feel full with affection. For he is surrounded by his small little family, and they are all proud of his stepping stone of achievement.

It takes time.

With how busy Jin Ling is nowadays, Wei Wuxian tries not to bother him too much or interfere with his affairs. The matter of becoming a sect leader Wei Wuxian leaves in Jiang Cheng’s hands instead, understanding all too well that his brother can guide Jin Ling far better than Wei Wuxian ever could. After all, the both of them share in the experience of being thrown into such a position at far too young an age.

On the occasions Wei Wuxian does spend time with his nephew, he begins to find that being around Fairy slowly becomes easier. Enough at least that when Jin Ling begins to bring her on night hunts with him, Wei Wuxian doesn’t mind. In some cases she can be rather useful, given her aid as a spiritual dog. She’s managed to help on more than one occasion, even aiding in warning Wei Wuxian in time before he could land himself in a number of troubling situations.

While Wei Wuxian finds having Fairy nearby doesn’t frighten him anymore, he also discovers that his new found comfort doesn’t work for all dogs.

--- --- ❁ --- ---

“Are you feeling better?”

Wei Wuxian hums, nodding as he buries his head closer against Lan Wangji’s chest. The tight grasp he has on his husband's robes loosens, the tension which had stretched tightly across his body having faded slightly. Lan Wangji’s hands have helped to soothe Wei Wuxian’s panic; the slow, calm strokes against his back relaxing him as if he were a child just woken from a nightmare. The silent yet reassuring presence of his husband as he holds him tightly in his arms helps. It reminds Wei Wuxian that he isn’t alone anymore. That he’s safe.

They had been walking through the streets of Caiyi town when it happened. Wei Wuxian had been engrossed in telling a story, his hands sweeping grandly in the air the more excited he became. Lan Wangji kept beside him, listening to every word with the smallest of smiles curling the edges of his lips.

Neither of them had seen the dog lying next to one of the market stalls they were passing by. Not until it had let out a deep sounding bark which startled Wei Wuxian enough to make him jump. Lan Wangji had moved fast, gently reaching for his husband's shaking form and guiding him away from the stall.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t think much about his experiences with dogs in the past most days, yet his eyes had glazed over as his panic only managed to grow. For a brief moment he wasn’t standing alongside his husband. Instead he had been a dirt covered child running down the streets, hands shakily holding onto whatever food he still carried as a vicious dog chased after him. When he blinked he was suddenly Wei Wuxian during the Wen Indoctrination, all prior confidence diminished as Wen Chao locked him in a room alone with a dog twice the size of Wei Wuxian, a certainty growing within that told him he wouldn’t live to see the next day.

So lost in the rush of memories hitting him, Wei Wuxian didn’t pick up on how Lan Wangji had walked him to one of the nearby inns. There was a weight upon his shoulder, Lan Wangji’s hand pressed there as a reminder that he was alright. That he was there beside him.

It hadn’t been until they’d made it to their room and Lan Wangji had guided them both to the bed for the evening, wrapping his arms around Wei Wuxian and patiently holding him that Wei Wuxian finally began to calm.

“I thought I was getting a better hold on this,” Wei Wuxian says, finally pulling his face away from Lan Wangji’s chest with a disappointed pout.

“You are,” Lan Wangji says, watching Wei Wuxian with worry. He reaches up, lightly wiping Wei Wuxian’s stray tears away with the delicate touch of his finger. “You did not expect the dog. That does not diminish any of the progress you’ve made in fighting your fear up until now, however. Sometimes our fears can get the better of us.”

Wei Wuxian frowns, his expression clearly showing that he doesn’t agree. He tries not to meet Lan Wangji’s gaze, but fails when his husband’s hand moves beneath his chin, gently tilting it up so that their eyes can meet.

“This time, the dog was not what you were used to. It was bigger. And unfamiliar to you. It also came as a surprise.”

“... It was a pretty big dog,” Wei Wuxian agrees, mumbling.  

Lan Wangji hums his agreement, the corner of his mouth curling up into a soft smile.

“Wei Ying did very well, considering. I am proud of you.”

Finally, Wei Wuxian allows himself to smile properly.

“Ah, you always know just how to make me feel better. What would I do without you, my love?” he says, leaning forward and pressing his head against Lan Wangji’s chest once more. He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m still a little frightened, though. Perhaps you should hold me tighter until I feel fully like myself again.”

His smile grows as he hears Lan Wangji let out a small breath of laughter. The arms around him squeeze just a bit tighter in return.

“Whatever Wei Ying wants.”

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian asks, snuggling deeper into the embrace. “And what if I need my wonderful husband to hold me all night? Keep me close so he can protect me from any nightmares involving the evil dog from today?”

“Then I will hold him close all night. Protect him.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, the lingering remnants of his fear disappearing altogether. He leans his head up towards him, meeting his lips for a kiss.

“How did I get so lucky to have you, Lan Zhan?” He asks after, beaming up at him.

“You’ve always had me,” Lan Wangji replies, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from Wei Wuxian’s face. “Always will have me, too.”

Eventually months pass, and Wei Wuxian soon realises that too much time has passed since he’s last seen his brother.  

Hearing from Jin Ling that Jiang Cheng has returned to Lotus Pier to focus on matters within his own sect for the time being, Wei Wuxian decides he wants to surprise him with a visit. It’s of no surprise when his husband offers to come with him, and so together they take a boat ride over to Yunmeng.

Wei Wuxian often makes his visits to his childhood home unannounced. He never likes writing ahead if he can avoid it, preferring not to be met at the docks with people already waiting to welcome him upon his arrival. Despite all the years and history left in the past there still remain those within the sect who know he is, who remember who he once would have become had their lives not taken the diverging paths they had. Some of those people even still see him as more to the Yunmeng sect than he is, despite Wei Wuxian believing very differently himself. To him he had lost such connections during his past life.

He understands why people see him as such, though. Since returning Wei Wuxian has offered his help to his brother. At first it had been in an attempt to help try and build a new foundation between the two of them, a way of reaching out to let his younger brother know he is there for him once more, if he wanted him. As their relationship began to grow however Wei Wuxian quickly realised that he also helps because he likes to, even if it is only in small ways here and there. Jiang Cheng has since reinstated a place for him within the sect, has let him know time and time again that Wei Wuxian does indeed have a place, yet Wei Wuxian tries to keep himself out of the political side of the cultivation world for both their benefits.

He has had more than enough of cultivation politics to last him two lifetimes after all.

No, Wei Wuxian much prefers showing up when his brother least expects it. Prefers how he pretends to be irritated at first, yelling that Wei Wuxian should have given him notice, or that he had to suddenly arrive whilst he was in the middle of something highly important. He prefers seeing the cracks in Jiang Cheng’s anger, the small slithers which show the real joy he feels at seeing him again.

It’s a joy Wei Wuxian once believed he would never see aimed his way, one which speaks all too clearly of how Jiang Cheng really feels. It tells him that he’s happy, glad Wei Wuxian has clawed his way back into his life once more.

When he steps into his old home with Lan Wangji this time however, Wei Wuxian quickly finds he’s not the only surprise to have arrived.

Wei Wuxian instinctively takes a small step closer to his husband's side as a small bundle of fur runs towards them both. His hand reaches for where Chenqing rests against his side, knuckles going white as he grips it tightly for support. He feels Lan Wangji hold his arm, his gaze almost piercing as he watches for his reaction, yet Wei Wuxian doesn’t turn to run away.

The bundle of fur stops at their feet, staring up at them.

Wei Wuxian realises that it is a husky. A small one - he reckons it’s about half the size of Fairy - with fur that’s slightly red in colour. His grip on Chenqing loosens, understanding all too well who the little dog must belong to.

“Huān! Come!”

The dog - or rather, Huān - turns its head back in the direction of the call but decides not to move. Wei Wuxian laughs, shaking his head at the dog's stubbornness before looking up, a bright smile stretching across his lips at the familiar sight of his brother making his way towards them.

“Jiang Cheng!” He calls, lifting his hand up in a wave.

“Wei Wuxian! How many times do I have to tell you - tell me when you’re coming! You’re always just … showing up whenever you feel like it!”

“I didn’t mention we were coming? I thought I did. Oh well,” Wei Wuxian says, waving off his brother’s words whilst Jiang Cheng splutters.

They both know he’s lying.

Jiang Cheng’s gaze levels with Lan Wangji’s, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I would have at least thought you would have sent ahead to inform me of your arrival.”

“Wei Ying told me he already had. I felt it unnecessary to do so myself,” Lan Wangji answers. Beside him Wei Wuxian tries not to laugh, although he does meet his husband’s sideward glance. The edge of amusement he sees hidden in Lan Wangji’s expression only makes his struggle harder. He’s still not used to the moments when Lan Wangji bends and stretches at the rules he’s been brought up to obey.

“Whatever,” Jiang Cheng sighs, reaching up to press his hand against his forehead. Wei Wuxian takes pity on teasing him, instead moving to kneel dso he can take a closer look at the dog that remains by his brother's side.

“Whose this?” He asks, pointing a finger at the dog as he looks up to Jiang Cheng.

“Her name is Huān. She’s my dog.”

Wei Wuxian nods, turning his attention back to the small dog once more. He waits for a second, and then -

“Hold on. How come you’re not hiding behind that husband of yours like I’ve seen you do before? You hate dogs.”

“I don’t hate them,” Wei Wuxian replies, pushing himself up to stand. “They scare me. There’s a difference.”

“Alright, how come you’re not frightened of her then?” Jiang Cheng asks, nodding down to where Huān sits. “Because I thought the idea was that I was to keep her away from you whenever you visited. Granted that I knew beforehand that you would be visiting so I had enough time to do so.”

“Ah! No need, no need!” Wei Wuxian pauses, tilting his head to one side curiously. “Did our dear nephew not say anything to you?”

“Say anything about what?”  

“Wei Ying has been working hard to overcome his fear of dogs,” Lan Wangji says, drawing Jiang Cheng’s narrowed gaze towards him.

“What? That's not funny. Don’t you dare joke with me.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian scolds. “Lan Zhan wouldn't lie. You know that. For the past few months, I’ve been trying to grow more comfortable around dogs."

Lan Wangji nods.

"It has been working. To … varying degrees of success.” He pauses, looking to Wei Wuxian with the hint of a proud smile. "Wei Ying has been working very hard. And he has come far."

Wei Wuxian's expression softens. If it weren't for where they were - and more the fact that his brother already seemed to be on the cusp of a tension headache from his arrival - he would have been more than ready to pull Lan Wangji in for a deep kiss of appreciation for his encouraging words.

“Why, though?” Jiang Cheng asks, pulling Wei Wuxian away from such thoughts. His confusion is clear in how his brow furrows as he continues, deep creases suddenly decorating his forehead. “Not that it’s not a good thing for you to do - but you never even thought to try before. What made you suddenly decide to work on this now?”

Wei Wuxian gives a slightly awkward, half hearted shrug.

“Well, I couldn’t very well go the rest of my life being scared of them now, could I? A grown man, scared of dogs? Ha! It sounds silly just saying it, doesn't it?”

“Wei Wuxian …” Jiang Cheng shakes his head, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Don't do that.”

The air surrounding them suddenly grows thick. Wei Wuxian's expression falls, the humour which had been present there before fading, instead making room for the seriousness Jiang Cheng asks for.

“... Alright.”

This was something they had both agreed upon. That they would try to be more honest with each other, no longer hiding the truths which either of them felt the other may not want or like to hear. It’s something Wei Wuxian has been finding difficult - being so openly truthful wasn't normal for him, but he wanted to learn to be better at it. For both Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji at least, the two people whom he felt deserved such from him the most after everything.

He supposes it makes sense he wouldn't find it easy. Not after having spent so many years hiding and holding so much within himself until the very moment he had been ready to break.

“Jin Ling has Fairy. And I knew … after you spoke about wanting one, you’d soon get yourself a dog too. I figured that, seeing as they were becoming such a fixture in my life now, I’d work on getting used to being around them. Ah -” Wei Wuxian pauses briefly, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, unable to meet Jiang Cheng's gaze. “I didn’t want to make things overly difficult for either you or Jin Ling just because of my phobia. I know it's been that way before, but -”

“You idiot.”  

Wei Wuxian blinks at the interruption.

He suddenly finds his arms full with his brother, whose arms wrap tightly around him. Wei Wuxian's eyes grow wide at the rare show of affection from him, but he slowly moves to return the hug. Over the corner of Jiang Cheng's shoulder he looks to Lan Wangji, his eyebrows rising with his confusion. Lan Wangji responds by giving him a small nod, taking a small step backwards to give the both of them the illusion of space.

“Making sure you feel comfortable even if Jin Ling and I have dogs as pets is not making things 'overly difficult',” Jiang Cheng eventually says, his voice muffled from where his face is pressed against pressed his face against Wei Wuxian's arms. He feels how Jiang Cheng sucks in a deep breath, before pulling away to instead look at him with a look of determination.  

“How many times must Jin Ling and I tell you; you are welcome in our homes. You are our family after all. We’ve been through too much for you to feel as if your phobia is something we all have to put up with.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know how to respond. It’s not something he’d expected to hear, although looking back he supposes he should be used to the unexpected by now. Instead he says nothing, watching silently as Jiang Cheng shakes his head, a heavy sigh falling past his lips.

“I couldn’t be more proud that you’re facing your phobia, but Wei Wuxian. Do it for you. Because you want to. Not because you believe your fear is an inconvenience to the rest of us, or that it''s owed” he pauses, eyes briefly flickering between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji again. His expression softens, and for a brief second Wei Wuxian sees the pride hidden behind his sternness. It's gone in a blink however as Jiang Cheng straightens his posture.

“How have you been getting on with things so far?”

Wei Wuxian’s expression turns bright, thankful for the shift in subject. He as good as bounces to stand by his brother's side, draping an arm over his shoulders with practiced ease. He looks to Lan Wangji, tilting his head forward and silently asking him to follow. As soon as Lan Wangji does Wei Wuxian smiles, turning to face ahead once more as the three of them begin to make a slow walk inside.

“Lan Zhan and I will tell you everything! But first, a drink perhaps, yes? The boat ride over here was so long, and Lan Zhan and I are exhausted. We are your humble guests. Look after us well during our stay, my dearest little brother!”

"Will you shut up? Fine, we'll talk over a drink. And your rooms ready anyway. You should know by now only the two of you use it."

[mor-beck-more-problems]

The Fast and the Furious: Spectral Drift || Morgan, Nell, & Constance

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @nelllraiser @constancecunningham @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Just gals being pals.

CONTAINS: car theft, drowning

For once, Nell was gaining a moment of mediocrity in her otherwise far too lively existence. Not that she minded the chaos. Parts of her thrived on it, but she’d been learning as of late that not all chaos was good, and a spot of normality was welcome in an otherwise unforgiving world. She and Morgan had gathered at Coffee Plus, taking advantage of the quiet day to do a bit of catching up between one another. Leaning forward to take a hearty bite of her chocolate muffin, Nell finished chewing and swallowed before finishing the story she’d launched into. “I’m just saying- maybe if he couldn’t handle the whole sandwich, he shouldn’t have stuck his fingers in the hanyo.” Her tone was bright with a laugh as she remembered the ridiculous expression that had been on the man’s face. Ready to launch into another joke about the poor guy’s predicament, she stopped mid-sentence— realization dawning over her as movement caught the corner of her eye. “Morgan...isn’t that...your car?” Pointing towards the vehicle in question, Nell stood to get a better look. Sure enough, she recognized the license plate that was ever so slowly inching away from the curb, the back of a mysterious head seeming to fumble with the controls. “Someone’s taking your car!”

Morgan was relieved that Nell wasn’t so bothered by her Constance drama as Blanche had been. She missed her young friends and whatever good she was able to imagine she did for them by being around. They certainly did plenty enough for her. Nell, especially, never backed down from a fight or a favor if it seemed right to her, and she could brighten any day with stories from her daily whirlwind adventures. Even though Morgan couldn’t really enjoy anything at the cafe, she didn’t feel ill at ease slurping at her seltzer water with Nell across the table. Listening to the latest turn, Morgan couldn’t help but snort. “You know not everyone is in your league, right, Nell?” She asked. “A lotta guys who call themselves brave would pee their pants getting up to some of the stuff you do. Although, gotta say, even I’m not woman enough to go anywhere near that ‘hanyo’ stuff, even for money.”

She had another question on her lips when Nell’s face changed. “M-my what?” She couldn’t have heard that right. But she followed Nell’s finger and— “That fucking bitch,” she hissed, tearing her bag off the chair. “I gotta go, I’m sorry, Nell, you might wanna run.” She stumbled outside in disbelief. “You’ve got three seconds to get out of my fucking car!” She cried.

Constance jumped, startled at the fury in the woman’s face. She was still getting used to being seen by any old soul, and not just her fellow damned and dead. She could still get out. Apologize for the mischief. This crime was small, impulsive, childish. She had only been wondering at the miraculous contraptions since they had first frightened her months ago. And seeing Morgan, this other Agnes, slide in and out of hers with more pride than any girl she’d seen give to a bicycle. It hadn’t even been locked. How grateful could this woman be for it if she didn’t think to have it locked? Thus, Constance’s resolve solidified. “I think you’re wrong!” She called. Her foot tested one of the pedals and a delicious roar came out of the engine. “I only need three to get away with it.” She moved the lever next to her and pushed the pedal again. The automobile shot backwards, crunching into something behind her. Constance fixed the lever again and she was flying forward, into the road like a comet. “Try and stop me, Bachman!” She cried.

Immediately electing to ignore Morgan’s recommendation of running, Nell’s head whipped around in search of something that might help, an idea that could get Morgan’s car back, and possibly give Constance some hell at the same time. It came to her in the form of a bright and shiny sedan someone was just pulling up in, putting their own vehicle into park alongside the curb. They didn’t have a chance to take the keys out of the ignition before Nell was on them. “Can I borrow this?!” she yelled at the startled driver who was frozen in shock. His confused voice matched the hopeless alarm on his face.

    “Wha-? No! It’s my car! Who the hell are you?” Without answering, Nell wrenched open the driver side door, grabbing the shirt of the poor man to firmly remove him from his seat, and deposit him on the asphalt. “Sorry!” Nell quickly apologized, another idea quickly coming to her. “Uh- official police business! Detective Vural thanks you for your service and so does White Crest!” It’d only taken her a quick second to Summon the fake badge she’d magically made when she’d pretended to be police to Regan and shove it into the face of the driver. As Constance and Morgan’s car rocketed down the street, Nell quickly put her ‘borrowed’ car into gear, also ignoring the fact that she didn’t have a license, and had mostly driven tractors. “Morgan!” she called out, rolling the car to her friend. “Morgan, get in! We’ll catch her!”

Morgan screeched with outrage. “My girlfriend bought me that Subaru!” She started pelting the car with whatever she had on hand. Her drinking straw, crumpled up receipts, post it notes, half used packs of Trident, pens, embroidery needles, her planner. They all bounced off the red car and fell pathetically into the road as Constance reversed right into a light pole, switched gear, and drove straight into traffic.

Morgan followed her as far as the stoplight, screaming wordlessly until the car behind her honked. “Hey, lady! Don’t make us late too!”

Morgan stumbled back into the parking lot, just in time to see Nell wielding a police badge as she dove into a random suburbanite sedan. “D-detect--yeah! Detective Stryder thanks you for your service too! Call the station with my name if you have any questions!” She didn’t slide so much as topple into the shotgun seat, junk still spilling from her bag. “And thank you!” She called behind her. They sped off in the direction Constance had gone, fast enough for Morgan to feel plastered to her seat before she could even buckle up. “I uh--didn’t know you had a lot of getaway experience, Nell,” she said, laughing breathlessly.

Broken glass and confused drivers littered the road ahead of them. Skid marks striped the road. Up ahead, the faintest streak of banged up red zig zagged through the lanes before jumping the curb and tearing into the town common.

A snarky chuckle fell from Nell as the familiar name of Marley Stryder was thrown into the mix. “I didn’t know you knew Marley,” she said as casually as a person could while beginning to give chase to a car that had been hijacked by a ghost who could have belonged in Downton Abbey for all Nell was concerned. As for getaway experience… “Oh, I don’t! Unless you count racing games and tractors!” she answered brightly, the rush of piloting a car that was careening down the street in a chase already causing delicious adrenaline to pump through her veins. It’d been a long while since she’d gotten to enjoy a high like this without also fearing for her life. “Actually, I’ve always wanted to drive a getaway car! Or be in a car chase! I just didn’t think I’d get to since I don’t have my license or whatever.” The witch dropped the news as if it were the most inconsequential fact one could say at a time like this, accelerating all the while. A light turned red. Nell didn’t hesitate as she blew through the intersection. Thankfully, Constance had run the same light, clearing the way for Nell to pass through safely. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her!” In a jerky movement, Nell followed the ghost onto the grass of the common.

“We’re acquainted,” Morgan said, wincing at the memory. It clearly wasn’t in any way that could be considered ‘good.’ “Wait, what do you mean you--oh my fuck, Nell, no!” Morgan yanked the wheel, swerving the car away from a tree, bouncing painfully back onto the street. She could see her red Subaru swerving down towards the docks in the distance, the bumper just barely hanging on and sending a fireworks show worth of sparks down the street. “She can’t get much farther like this,” she hissed between her teeth. Morgan let go of the wheel and reached into her bag for her salt pistol.

This wasn’t really the ideal time for Nell to question Morgan further about her and Marley’s relationship, even if her need to be nosy was in full force and trying to get her to ask anyway. Later, she told herself before punching her foot to the gas once more. “Hey!” she objected as Morgan jerked the wheel. “I wasn’t gonna hit it! Talk about a backseat driver,” Nell grumbled. But the disgruntled mood was quickly past her. How could she stay upset when she was zooming along in a car chase? A grin split over her lips as she took the time to roll her window down, laughing as the wind whipped her hair with the sudden gust of air. “What is that?” Nell asked, not entirely sure what kind of gun the strange thing in Morgan’s hands was. However, she did know that if Morgan was going to get any kind of decent shot, they needed to be closer. Yet again, Nell stomped on the gas, laying the pedal flat against the floor of the car. Finally, she managed to catch up to Morgan’s car, the front bumper of Nell’s ‘borrowed’ car kissing against the back of Morgan’s Subaru. The nudge was more than enough to knock the Subaru’s bumper loose. “Ha!” Nell exclaimed as the piece of plastic clattered beneath them before remembering that it was Morgan’s car she’d just tapped. “Ah- I mean- oops?”

Morgan cried out to see her poor bumper. Her fingers stretched out helplessly to the windshield. “S-subaru…” she whispered. That did it. Morgan cranked down the windshield, because of course it still had a fucking crank, and leaned out, pistol raised. Three short pops burst through the air. Three brusts of smoke. The salt rounds exploded against  the Subaru. One landed in the spiderweb break in a window, melting on contact.

Constance’s joy was short lived. These monstrosities were no relief, no freedom. The beastly thing seemed to have a mind of its own! Then the windows began to cave in, dripping with salt. “No, no, no, no…” She whimpered. She tried moving the lever, but this only made the car jerk and fit. Panicked, she rammed her foot to the pedal. The automobile screamed as if she’d cursed it and spun out of her control. Constance shifted, ready to drift out like it was no matter of all, but no, her solid form was now her prison. The automobile crashed onto the docks. Wood shattered everywhere in its wake. Finally, it came to a stop, and Morgan Beck, the last of the Bachmans, was right behind her. Constance picked her way out of the debris and stumbled into the car’s path, her body clenched and unyielding. Let her do her worst, cruel coward that she was. To ruin even one of her ill-gotten treasures was worth the trouble this had cost.

As Morgan hung out the window of the car, Nell reached for her own door handle— ready to launch herself into whatever showdown it was that Constance was hoping to have here. What she was going to do she wasn’t all that sure yet. But Nell had to do something. If she didn’t, who knew if there would be another Maxine sooner rather than later? But as her hand reached for the plastic of the handle, she heard a click of the locks, and in a single second the witch found herself momentarily trapped in the car by some no good ghost mischief. If only it had stayed mischievous rather than lethal. Before Nell could so much as search for the unlocking mechanism, a weightlessness overtook her. She was...flying? No, the entire car was flying. Straight over the side of the dock as Constance wielded her power once more, sending the borrowed vehicle right into the hungry fingers of the waiting waves of the ocean. Morgan was gone from the window before Nell could make sense of what was happening, probably thrown adrift by the sheer force of the launch. And then...an icy coldness as water began to pour in through the open window, the car sinking steadily below the surface of the water while Nell remained trapped inside. She jerked uselessly at the handle as more saltwater began to fill the cab of the car, it not taking long to rise to her knees. It seemed whatever Constance had used to keep the doors shut wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Constance, don’t.

The voice wasn’t in Constance’s ears, but it shook through her strange body as she tried to stop the car. Locking it was no matter to her, but the rest, becoming an immovable object to its unstoppable force. If she were her full self, it would already be in the air. If she were herself, she could have gotten hands around Morgan and snapped her to pieces. She could have thrown her across the room, smashed her up and down and gathered the dust of her bones for--

Constance, don’t.

It was the girl’s voice. Blanche Harlow. And in remembering her warning, Constance stepped back from her rage. But the car was already trembling in her grip. There was someone besides Morgan inside. Another girl, as frightened as the school children had been, maybe more. She could see Constance. She knew exactly what was happening to her, and perhaps even why. Constance let go, it was too much, all of this was too much, she didn’t want to be cruel to innocents, but she couldn’t let Morgan cower behind her friends all the time either! Constance’s self-control was like that of a child and the car didn’t come gently down to rest. It soared into the water and crashed through its depth, hard enough to disrupt the waves. Constance watched it sink, helpless to move, to think. “Help!” She screamed at last. “Someone help! There was a crash, did you see a crash? The automobile just-- there’s more than one person inside there! Help!” She sprinted up the docks, arms waving like mad. “Help me, please!”

Even Morgan’s zombie nerves felt her body hit the water. She plummeted downwards, muscles burning as she wriggled to slow herself down. The ocean was veiled in salt and murk before her eyes, but she could just make out the outline of the subaru in the distance. She opened her mouth once to call, only realizing how stupid that was when water rushed into her mouth. Fuck. She had to get to her. She was not losing another person to this spoiled brat of a witch. I’m coming, Nell. I’ll make this right.

As the water got higher, and only the murky depths of the ocean could be seen out her driver’s side window, Nell screwed her eyes shut for a long moment— trying to assess, to find her way out. She hadn’t come all this fucking way to die via being tossed into the ocean by a god damned ghost. The sound of rushing water, and the coldness of it rising to chest height was enough to push Nell into action, and in a quick moment she’d drawn one of her hidden daggers, slamming the butt of it against a backseat window. It did what it was meant to, shattering the glass and allowing more water to fill the car. The witch couldn’t remember where she’d heard it, but somewhere along the way she’d gotten it into her brain that letting the car fill with water would make it easier to open the door and make her escape. A quick spell made easy work of the locks, and the whole handle flew off of the side of the door as the dire need of the situation had given her a little too much juice when it came to casting. Whatever. It would work. She’d been submerged enough to float towards the roof of the car at this point, and now all there was left to do was wait. Wait for the car to finish filling. Wait for the perfect moment to take her last breath and make a break for it. Finally, the moment came— and she took a shuddering and deep last breath of precious air as the car became entirely filled.

Nell fumbled it. Half of her final breath became water where there should have been air, and suddenly a reflexive cough was wracking her. In all of two seconds...her air was spent, and she hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. It didn’t matter. That was what she told herself. It didn’t matter because dying wasn’t an option. Kicking open the door, it felt like time moved in slow motion as she finally came out from the car. She raised her eyes towards the light filtering above her to find that the sun seemed impossibly far away. Shit. Shit shit shit. Had she really sunk that far so quickly? Should she have tried her chances with getting out of the car earlier? It didn’t matter now. Swimming had never been a problem for her, but the surface seemed impossibly far. Nevertheless, she kicked her legs, making a desperate attempt to live. It wasn’t long before her lungs were screaming for air, begging her to take that breath of seawater that would begin the sealing of her fate and death. Just a little closer. Just a little more. But the little more wasn’t enough. It felt like every gallon of the ocean was pressing on Nell— her eyes, her ears, any crevasse it could manage to find. Dizziness began to take its hold, and Nell vaguely wondered how it was even possible to be dizzy underwater, the inane thought crossing her mind as spots began to appear in her vision. She wasn’t going to drown. She refused to drown. Barely aware of it, sheer will seemed to propel and jet her higher, and whether it was her legs or her magic, she wasn’t able to say.

Morgan was no expert swimmer, but she had determination and stamina on her side. She tore through the water, muscles aching. The pull of the ocean was not her friend this time. It weighed down her arms, making her slower. Salt and floating debris flung into her eyes. Morgan continued to swim. She could see her now, a limp ragdoll figure in the blue.

No. Not today. Not one more fucking person is dying because of Constance.

Morgan grabbed her around the waist and propelled them to the surface.

“There they are!”

“Look!”

“Someone toss ‘em a rope!”

“Grab on, honey! Don’t let go!”

Morgan’s eyes were blurry with seawater, but she made out the shadow of a life preserver flying towards her. Morgan dragged her and Nell towards it, trying not to focus on how much distance there was between them and the shore, the ruin of her Subaru, the weight of Nell’s motionless body in her arms. “We--” she called, her throat choked with salt. “We need-- CPR! She--” Morgan gagged on more seawater. Nothing was moving fast enough. Not her legs, not the human chain forming on the docks, not the clouds gathering over the blinding sun. Morgan kicked in the water to help move them along, but it felt like she was still being pulled down, squeezed until she broke and gave up.

When they reached the surface, Morgan remembered to give a few dramatic coughs and wheezes while a woman she recognized from Amity Row felt for Nell’s pulse. “How did you… did you see? What happened?” Morgan asked.

The crowd looked uneasily at each other. “Just the end,” one of them admitted. “Wouldn’t have seen it at all except for that weird little girl.”

They began to describe her in bits and pieces, red hair, funny dress, maybe a cosplayer, but Morgan had already heard too much. She didn’t care what Constance had or hadn’t done for them, what kind of crowd she wanted to draw for her latest maneuver. If she was still gawking by the time Morgan was through here, she’d take her new solid body and pound it into dough. “Out of my way!” She snapped. “She just needs CPR! Fuck, it’s not rocket science!” She started pumping on Nell’s chest, blocking out the rest of the world. She’d taken this training enough times to remember; she could get this right. “Come on, Nell…” She whispered. “I can’t let her get you too. Come on…” She breathed into her mouth. “We’ve got this, Nell. We got this… we got this…”

[sandalaris]

For the writer asks: 5, 10, 17, 22, 23, 30, 45, & 54!! :D

Finally getting around to answering these XD

5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.

I read so much I feel like I can’t narrow it down. My favorite author is Ilona Andrews but they write almost exclusively in first person and have their fair share of action in their novels that I don’t think they’re that much of an influence on me. I’m trying to think of who I read that did the whole “people usually feel a mix of emotions over just one” thing that I know I’ve adopted, but I can’t think of who it is. (I can think of an author, who I do love the books of, who did the opposite and I found myself always confused about a character was supposed to be feeling/thinking and they probably influenced me to not do that, but I do like their books and that seems too much like I’m trying to be negative about them.)

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

If I got to pick anyone, it’d be Marissa Meyer who wrote the Lunar Chronicles. It would be for one novel/novella, because I feel like the Lunar Chronicles has one more sort of side story in it and would want so badly for it to fit what the author has already written. If you haven’t read the series, it’s basically a retelling of various fairy tales just set in the future, like Cinderella has a metal prosthetic foot that keeps falling off and Rapunzel is a hacker living in a satellite orbiting earth. Everything is set up to perfectly fit a Beauty and the Beast side-story. Genetically altered super soldiers who are big and hairy and given animal aggression and had all their teeth surgically replaced with fangs for failing to pass a test as a child? Check! Now all we need is to write a story about the bookish daughter of a geneticist who gets blackmailed into staying with the “beast” and slowly learns that there’s a man inside of the monster and ends up figuring out how to reverse some of the alterations (because we already got the “I love him just as he is, fangs and all” thing from Scarlet and Wolf so we can have a little “curse breaking” this time around.) It can be set post-series, when some of the wolf-soldiers ran off and disappeared into various countries.

I once co-write a novel with my best friend about an evil warlock who fell in insta-love with a ditzy elf and spent the rest of the novel trying to avoid her so he could dodge his fate of retiring from villainy like his father and grandfather before him. He was determined to be the one villain in his family who actually went through with his evil master plan, dammit! It was a comedy, and kind of a spoof since we were at that age where romance novels were the thing to make fun of, but it still ended with him deciding he could do evil masterminding later and running off with the elf. What can I say, we were like twelve.

17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

Eek, the problem with averages is that any sort of outlier knocks everything else off, and I have a lot of outliers, lol. I go through writing spurts, sitting down and all but knocking out an entire chapter/one-shot in one sitting followed by days where I won’t even open a word document. And then there’s sort of my inbetween times where I’m usually typing away on something, but it’s more editing than actual writing, so maybe 100 or so new words might get written, but what I’ve previously written looks better by the end, lol. This has been the norm especially lately with school and work taking up the majority of my time. And then it hits me and I just need to let the story flow out of me? Between 2k-5k a sit down session.

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

I don’t really do true drafts. I write, I edit, I post, and then I suddenly see all my typos. On the rare occasion editing doesn’t fix the issue, I might cut the scene into chunks and sort of look for the line(s) that don’t fit and start branching off from there (like maybe someone’s acting out of character *glares at current chapter* and I just needed to look at it in smaller incriments to see where they started to veer off). Only once have I ever just completely reworked the extremely extremely rough draft I had written, but that was an original work I did for Nano and so was more concern with getting words on a page than editing as I go.

I suppose editing could count as a second draft, so two? Maybe three? What is considered One Editing? If I leave off and come back, is it an all new edit/draft, or am I picking up where I left off?

23. Single or multi POV, and why?

Nine times out of ten I seem to veer towards single, although I’ve had some fun with multiple POVs before.

Not really sure why. Maybe I just find it easier to burrow into one person’s headspace and go from there? I know there are times when I want to jump to another character for one specific scene, but I always feel like I’m already committed to telling things from the one character’s POV. Or maybe I just like the limited narrator thing.

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

Err.. I don’t know that I have one. How about a line I rather like? This is from a kind of Amaru/Brasa fic (kinda sorta. He’s got that whole mix of love and hate and resentment and worship thing going on, and she has her own twisted attachment to him) set in those six months between seasons. These lines are from a moment where Kate surfaces and Brasa fantasizes about taking out some of his resentment of Amaru on Kate. (He never actually physically harms her, Amaru would never allow someone to mark her vessel simply because its hers, but he likes to imagine.)

He thinks about wide green eyes looking up at him with fear, filling with tears as she whimpers out a “Please.” Imagines pressing a hand to her shoulder, pressing down down down until she’s kneeling before him, trembling as he cups her jaw, forcing her head back. He wants to press his thumb to the plump swell of her bottom lip, dig his nail in until the blood, her soul, comes to the surface. Filling the flesh with color until it spill across her chin in a vibrant slash.

and to give you an idea of how Kate is handling Brasa’s attempts to take his issues out on her...

He can see the muscle at the hinge of her jaw tighten, hear the harsh edge of every exhale, as she turns to look up at him mere inches away.  

“My name,” she clips, “is Kate.” She bites off the last, harsh sound, almost snapping her teeth at him.

45. Worst piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

I’m trying to think of actual feedback and not just like angry comments/reviews from people who didn’t like my fics (which tbh I haven’t gotten that much of because people aren’t generally that big of a dick to leave flames on fics these days.)

Someone tried to tell me that a character dropping the f-bomb was unnecessary and jarring and I should remove it from one of my fics. And hey, to each their own, but I personally felt it fit both the character (who cursed in canon) and the story and so kept it in. People certainly can write great literature without every putting down a single curse word, but there’s also great stories that wouldn’t be the same without a bit of foul language. What bugged me most about it was their insistence I should remove it.

Besides that the only other bad feedback I’ve gotten (besides obvious flames and people not liking the direction I’m going/have gone with a story), was someone who said that my clearly labeled unhealthy relationship fic was romanticizing abuse and they didn’t appreciate the one character manipulating the other character like that. They were actually fairly nice about it (if a bit of an anti about the whole thing), I just remember being a little bugged at the time because I had already tagged it as unhealthy/manipulative.

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

Don’t be afraid to experiment! And in that same vein, try out writing rules and discard them just as quickly if they aren’t for you, because there’s no set in stone way to doing things. Break all the rules if you want, the point is just to write. XD

Thanks!!

[elliotjgdb427]

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[neoangelic]

Don’t Need Your Love

➳ an nct dream series

After a horrible first love experience, Yang Ahn joins the Don’t Need Your Love club via invitation. Things don’t turn out the way they were supposed to. 

➳ a story of not-so-romance featuring: the coolest club on campus, the meaning of unrequited, teenagers, best friends, heartbreak, healing, first loves, and new ones. 

➳ masterlist 

➳ note: female oc, multiple pairings, ot7 dream, not saying anything more bc spoilers!

➳ word count: 2235

DNYL. A four-letter word—if you would even call it a word. DNYL: four letters that defined the rest of my youth. Four letters that changed my perspective of quite a few other four-letter words. These four consonants brought together a broken band of romance misfits, the love-lost and the lovelorn, and I was the unfortunate latter.

A scoff dared to spill from my lips when I heard Harvey’s voice crackle over the loudspeaker. It wasn’t abnormal for clubs to advertise themselves via intercom, but those were your usual clubs: basketball, taekwondo, art, math, and such. It started off one of those usual announcements at first, but his next words turned everything around.

“The coolest club on campus: DNYL—”

Such a declarative statement. It stopped me in my tracks on the way to homeroom.

“—Don’t Need Your Love.”

And like the rest of the student body, his audacious proposal of a club nearly made me laugh. Harvey was a sweet exchange student from the United Kingdom. A gregarious boy with a knack for gathering people’s interest. This stunt was no exception. Like the rest of Neo Culture Tech’s teenager-filled population, he droned on about relationships, though he spoke of the broken kind. 

Since I had no relation to such types of relationship, I let his voice fade into the background of chattering students and teachers ushering them off to class. At this point, all I paid attention to was the scuff on my Mary Janes as I walked and the way the spine of my notebooks sat uncomfortably against my bicep. My grip on them grew tighter as bits and pieces of Harvey’s speech were growing harder to suppress. Intrusive thoughts crawled its way into my mind. A whisper of an unforgotten forgotten name. Ghosts of conversations in a foreign language. A face began to form in my memory. One with cat-like, sharp eyes. Before my fingertips could come into contact with the cool metal of the doorknob in front of me and snap me out of my thoughts—something else did.  

“Do you feel down from all this unrequited love?” 

Do you feel down from all this unrequited love? Was that even a question?

I finally let a chuckle past my lips, once again turning my attention towards the scuff mark on my shoe, once again letting the name of first love to be forgotten and remembering that I had a class to attend.

“What’s so funny?”

“Lee Jeno, Jesus Christ,” my shoulders jumped to my ears. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You looked dumb standing like that,” he gestured to my hand that floated above the doorknob.

“Are you trying to act like Hyuck-oppa by insulting me?”

“Well as your new best friend, I need to fill the void that Haechan left in our Ahn-ah’s heart.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

“Yeah, dead to you.”

“Only sometimes,” I roll my eyes. “He’ll be back in one more month and I never said anything about you being my new best friend.”

He pouts, like a puppy. “Well haven’t I done a good job of taking care of you while he’s gone? You did post on your insta story about best friend applications being open and I remember sending you a resume that I don’t think you ever read. He’s been gone since like the beginning of last school year—”

Jeno continued to ramble on with loud hand gestures. It was odd to know that this was the boy I was introduced to during freshman year of high school. His features have grown to become more chiseled and—due to his resolution of ‘becoming fit’ over the summer—I couldn’t help but notice the outlines of muscle through his school uniform. Still retaining his puppy-like features, puberty didn’t steal away his cuteness just yet. The Lee Donghyuck he currently was ranting about was my best friend of now four years. I concluded that his one-sided competition for Donghyuck’s role as my best friend was his little way of reminiscing the devilish boy. Although, he’d never admit that he missed him. Neither would I.

Donghyuck was the funniest boy I ever met. He was like the sun at its brightest as it shone through a stormy day. His reactions were exaggerated and animated and he never failed at catching every opportunity for a quick-witted remark against me. But my favorite part about him was when he made jokes with a straight face. Sometimes I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. He breathed life into my gloomy 7th-grade self. But I don’t think I could forgive him for not metaphorically holding my hand throughout first year. He had to leave Korea a quarter through the first semester because his parents won a trip to Canada. And I get it. Canada was a great place to be, but he failed to inform me that his trip would last about a year. Before he left, he introduced me to Jeno and told me that we would get along splendidly. 

In the words of my best friend; ‘you’d be too much of a loner while I’m gone, so I bestow this pity gift on you.’ 

Not to mention, our first meeting was hilarious. 

He was right. I missed him like the moon missed the sun in the cold night sky.

Luckily, Jeno and I had more in common than I thought and maybe Donghyuck knew that. Maybe that was why he introduced us. He always had an eye for such things. 

The first thing I said made him choke on his milk and flush cherry. Let’s just say I recognized him from an old advert he did as a child actor, featuring the said drink he choked on. The Lee Jeno I first got to know was awkward and shy, never without his crescent-crinkled eyes, a bashful smile, and fingers pulling on a hoodie string. The Lee Jeno that stood in front of me was wide-eyed, broad-shouldered, and confident as ever. 

He grew up a lot.

Don’t ever tell him this (lest you want his ego to inflate) but I really admired him for that. 

“—in conclusion, who was there for that whole fiasco? Not Haechan. What did he ever do? Facetime you every day? Pff I bought you ice cream. Now that’s a real friendship. You didn’t see him flying over from Canada to comfort you, did you? Maybe he was whisked away by a Canadian babe or hunk—”

“You got me my least favorite flavor,” I remarked.

“Ahn-ah,” he whined. “Give me some credit.”

“Tough love. If you wanna be Donghyuck try to be more annoying. He’d never greet me like that.”

“Oh yeah? And how would he have greeted you?” Jeno leaned forward to meet me eye level as if challenging me. Regret flashed in his eyes as I promptly jumped up to put him in a headlock, messing up his perfectly combed hair with my free hand.

“Aw isn’t our Jeno-oppa so grown up?” I pout, pulling and pinching at his cheeks. “Every morning that I see you, you seem to get taller. What am I going to do with you?”

He scrunched his nose in disgust, furrowing his brows. “I think I have cooties now.”

“That’s the spirit. Now keep that up and you’re on your way—maybe—to be just like Hyuckie.”

“The absolute disrespect you’re giving him while he’s gone, calling someone older than you so casually” he scoffs, wrestling his head out of my grasp. “How has he had this much influence on you while he’s gone?”

“Well—”

“Lee. Yang. I don’t suppose you’d want to be late for my class while having a lovers quarrel, don’t you?”

I push Jeno away from me and bowed, flustered. “Sorry, saem.”

“Saem-nim,” Jeno clicked his tongue at my rough gesture, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I could think of her romantically even if I was paid five million won.”

Mr. Song tapped his knuckles against the boy’s head. “Be nice to girls, Jeno. I was joking. I guess you finally found another boy to bully, Ahn?”

“In my defense, sir, the last boy was the one who bullied me.”

“Pfft—”

“I liked you better with the other boy you were friends with, yes. Why don’t I see him with you anymore? You seemed to cause a lot less trouble with—”

Jeno swung the door open. “I think we should get to our seats, Ahn-ah. I’m sorry about the trouble Mr. Song.” His hands clasped around my shoulders and ushered me into the classroom, another scuff to probably form as I tried to not trip over my own feet or drop my books. He shoved me toward my seat.

“Hey—”

“Shh,” he shot an annoying smile at my irritation. “Class is starting.”

“Rude. I think Donghyuck got to you too,” I grumble, sinking my face into the palm of my hand as my notebooks lay in disarray on my desk. It was unfortunate that our homeroom teacher was nice. He let Jeno sit next to me.

“I’ll call attendance now.” 

My unfortunate seatmate leaned closer toward me. I inched away, rolling my eyes as he whispered.

“So… does that make me better BFF material?” His eyes disappeared into crescents as he prodded me with is a pencil, chuckling deviously. I slapped his hand away.

“You’re still not as funny as him.”

“What the hell—”

“H-here.”

“Lee, Jeno?” Mr. Song stared at the black-haired boy with a raised eyebrow.

To which he coughed loudly to cover up his expletive.

And aside from Harvey’s little announcement that morning, the rest of the day went on without a hitch. Soon enough, Monday turned into Tuesday, which morphed into Wednesday and bumped into Thursday. All the “day”s seemed the same. Monotonous. The only thing that was different was the slowly shifting breeze and the changing colors of the leaves of plants and trees. The autumn scenery was finally settling in.

And you know what they say about autumn.

It was a fitting season for the boy in front of me. A season of endings and changes—amongst all the other autumn things. 

“Why are you tearing them down?” I caught a piece of paper that fluttered down the stairway. It had been a while since I spoke English, the language strange on my tongue. “They’re cute.”

Harvey turned around and flashed a tight-lipped smile. He shook his head with a disappointed exhale. “Quite frankly, the whole thing was a bust.” His hand reached for another DNYL poster, one of many that scattered the walls of this place.

I picked up some rogue posters that fell onto the steps, approaching the foreign boy. I wasn’t lying about the posters being cute. They were handmade and created with color and illustration, the words written in an aesthetic way. Though, I didn’t mind to read them. 

“Why’d you make the club in the first place?”

“I guess I’ve just seen those people around campus who’ve just been so unhappy,” he said. “It felt horrible knowing that there was nothing I could do to help but I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, if I created a safe haven away from that heartbreak, then nobody would feel lonely enough to cry their heart out. Have you ever had the feeling of wanting to start something beautiful?” Harvey’s eyes were green and genuine. The golden light from the window was filtered through leaves, creating a taste of a nostalgic, bittersweet what-if. 

“Once,” I answered, a feeling pulling at my chest. An urge. A remembrance of what was and what could have been. There was a wish for warmth, even soaked in the honey glow of the sun. Longing. For new beginnings. 

Who hasn’t felt the wish for something to ignite?

For something to explode.

For undreamt dreams to just come true.

“I guess I also wanted to leave a small legacy before I leave. I need to go back home pretty soon.” A solemn sigh left Harvey once again as he stared down at one of his white posters. A pitiful silence hung in the air, dust fairies dancing and floating around us, falling and disappearing away from the light.

“Maybe you just need to find your targeted audience,” the words didn’t mean to come out of my lips, but they did anyway. “NCT is a highschool where teenage romance never sleeps. You’d be best off finding some outliers—y’know like the people you mentioned.”

“The ones I’ve seen around campus?”

“Yeah. Those who have been dumped, had a bad breakup, dealing with a broken heart… isn’t that what you said this club was for?”

“I wouldn’t suppose you’re one of those outliers?” He called out.

I looked behind at Harvey and the colorful papers that stuck out from his arms and his backpack. I looked at the empty walls and the tape that he wasn’t able to scrape off and half torn stickers that spelled ‘DN’. I look at him and smile without meaning to.

“If this is truly the coolest club on campus, then send a message my way.

“I don't have your number.”

“Who said you needed to text me to communicate? Send me something interesting—something special. I wanna feel like I’m being invited to the Phantom’s masquerade,” I turned away, biting at the inside of my cheek. My next words came at a frightening decrescendo as I realized what I was getting myself into. “If you find that I’m suited for your club…surprise me.

<< recruiting now | masterlist | boys are never worth it >>

footnotes -

saem: a shortened word for ‘seongsaeng-nim’ or teacher.

oppa: well, I think we all know this one but I mostly use it to signify respect or difference of age

[ianalizz]

To the Moon and Back

Disclaimer: If you like surprises, please do not read blurb! 

Two past lovers encounter each other once again. While trying to distinguish the new boss and employee relationship they find themselves in strange encounters. Explosions and retaliations are the residue left over from their past. Both Mila and Harry wish to move on in order to work in a tranquil environment. The only way to acquire said wish is to talk out their past, but it seems like they can never get on the same page. Will they ever move on? Or will they shove the past in to the back of their minds in order to work harmoniously? One question that strides to Mila's mind is why did he come back? Short story! Hope you like it 🖤

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Also, I have a wattpad that you guys can follow: https://www.wattpad.com/Ianalizz?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_profile 

Would I lose myself in him or would he enhance the better parts of my writing? Mila always wondered what would happen if the right guy swooped her off her feet. Now it seems so distant since she’s distracted. She doesn’t have to worry about guys now with her new job promotion being just in reach. It took three years to get (or almost get) to this point of her life. She is not going to let anyone ruin this for her. Not even the clueless barista at the coffee shop her boss loves. “Is this four pumps of caramel and one shot of coconut because I saw you do two caramel and two coconut. I’m going to need another iced coffee. I beg of you please make it right this time, my potential job depends on this order.” Her brown eyes pierce into the teenager and he simply nods and scoffs while taking her order back and replacing it. She mouths a loud thank you and walks out of the crowded coffee shop with a huge smile. As she says good morning to bystanders, they feel warm and can’t tell if it’s the well dressed brunette or the summer sun.

Mila makes her way into the tall glass building in the middle of New York City. The famous building is owned by Jeff Finn, one of the most famous writers in the country. The security guard greets Mila with a wave and she waves back rather aggressively while entering the elevator. Her excitement cannot be contained. She knew she was getting the job the minute it was presented to three interns: herself, snoring Steve, and Kelsey. Let it be known that Kelsey has been on maternity leave for three years and no one has heard of her since. There’s a rumor that she died, but according to her Facebook status she’s just... inactive.

The elevator dings on floor three and she leaps out while looking at her watch. Just in time, she thinks. Just in time to be early. A whole hour and seventeen minutes early. The front desk lady, Denise smiles as Mila leans over to say hello. “Hi, sweetheart. How are ya doing?” She asks with great concern.

Mila finds this confusing because it is obvious that she’s doing great. “Um amazing! How can you even ask me that Denise? Mr. Finn will give me the promotion and I’ll finally have,” She breathes deeply and almost tears up, “benefits.” She bites her lips and does a little dance showing her enthusiasm.

Mila slowly stops when noticing Denise’s facial expression. She reaches out of Mila’s arm, “Oh no. I thought someone would have told you.” Her thumb rubs Mila in a comforting style, but Mila jerks away slowly.

“Told me what? Don’t say that snoring Steve got that position! He talks out of his ass.” Mila’s voice grows into a whisper as Denise points toward the doorway revealing Steve. “G-good morning… man” She nervously says with a false smile.

Steve pulls out one of his apple air pod headphones and responds with a, “Huh?” and Mila thanks God silently.

She turns her attention to Denise, going back to their previous conversation. “Mila, no one is getting a promotion anytime soon. Jeff died last Friday.” Denise’s sorrowful eyes matches Mila’s. “I’m sorry, hun.”

Mila tries to make sense of this, but it hits her like a moving truck. “S-so... no benefits?” Denise’s shocked expression makes Mila feel the need to defend herself. “What? No one liked the guy.” Denise hits Mila on the hand like a child. “Ow! Okay, okay. I do feel for him and no one deserves that. No matter how rude and despicable they are-- were.” Mila recalls the times Mr. Finn would come to her cubicle and drop papers just to watch her pick it up and the amount of times he called her Mimi makes her gag to this day. She could have simply quit, but the pay was good and it will take more than a man to make her quit her dreams in being a published poet. Her current job was only phase one in her seven year plan. Let’s include the fact that we are in year 3 and still on phase one. Phase two was the editor position, but that dream quickly crumbled. “Iced coffee?” She hands the four pumps of caramel and one shot of coconut to Denise.

At work, she can’t get her mind off the editor position that’s still open. There has to be a way to get it. Part of her thinks it’d be easy to just pretend she already got the job and the other part of her doesn’t want to risk it. I mean, it would be easy. Just go in the editor’s office and start working. I’m perfect for the job. No one will have a clue. Except maybe for snoring Steve. She glances over to Steve who seems to be asleep and drooling. Okay, maybe he won't even notice. She gets up, careful not to wake Steve because if she does she’ll have to again hear the story of how his grandmother ice skated naked eight years ago on New Year’s.

She takes the elevator to the fourth floor where all the editors are. The last office on the left is where she believes dearly that she belongs. The only obstacle that was in the way was that Mr. Finn’s office would be diagonally next to hers, but now that doesn’t seem like a problem anymore. She walks in and her white heels clack on the dark hardwood floor. Her heart beats as she floats toward the desk, letting her fingers dance on the fine dark oak and slowly makes their way to the black plush chair. Her eyes envision her clients seated right in front of her desk and on the leather seats. She sits down on her dream chair and spins while laughing a little.

Suddenly, she hears Mr. Finn’s office door open and she ducks down under the desk. She hears footsteps approach the desk and she remains frozen in place, hoping it isn’t the ghost of Mr. Finn. The footsteps come to a stop right in front of her. The figure crouches down to her level of eyesight. The man’s green eyes locks with her as their faces are merely inches from each other. His grin turns into an even bigger smile when he notices her eyebrows raise. “Need help?” His British accent as thick as the tension in the room. He extends his hand.

Mila takes his hand and rises to her feet with the help of green eyes. “Thank you.” She lightly says while brushing off any dust on her blazer.

“No problem.” He says. He scratches his head before saying, “S-so, um. How have you been?” His face bright red and sweaty hands deep in his pockets.

“Fine. Yourself?” Her arms crossed and eyes are now attempting to burn him or make him disappear like in her poems she’s written about him, but it isn’t going to be that easy. “Good, good.” He runs his fingers through his curls and out of his eyes, gaining the confidence to say, “Look Mila,”

“Save it.” She cuts him off quickly while turning to exit, but in the back of her head she needs to know; why is he back? “W-what are you even doing here Harry?” Her lips press together as she cocks her head to the side waiting on his answer.

“Well, I…” She cuts him off again.

“Why would you think for one second I would want to see you again?”

“I didn’t mean to,” There she goes again.

“To what? Leave without telling me? Move to a whole other country without telling me?” Her voice bounces off the walls.

“Mila, I…”

“You what?” Just let him talk! Oh sorry. I’m getting too into this.

Finally, once Mila is ready to hear his excuses as to why he left two years ago, a knock appears at the door. The pair looks at Mr. Finn’s assistant, Griffin, as he pops his multicolored dyed head into the room. “Mr. Styles, you have a meeting at eleven with the board and where would you like the interviews held for the new editor position?” In between his flamboyant words Mila makes the connection as to why Harry is here.

Harry clears his throat and says, “I’ll be out in a minute.” With that Griffin closes the door and the pair regain eye contact.

“You’re replacing Mr. Finn aren’t you?” Mila questions with her shoulders hanging low. Although she is really vexatious due to the fact he left, deep down she wanted him to say he had come back for her. He nods his head while walking toward the door, opening it for her. She glances back in to the editor’s office longingly before kissing her seven year plan goodbye.

Walking back to her cubicle, she runs in to Denise who notices that Mila is nervously picking at her nails. “Oh so you didn’t hear yet?” Denise smiles.

“Hear what?” Mila shrugs her shoulders, but maintains her distinguishably sad posture.

“The new boss flew in last night and is rescheduling the editor’s position interviews! Isn’t that great? You’ll get benefits!” Denise starts to happy dance and notices that Mila isn’t doing so, therefore killing the vibe. “Uh uh, nope. No moping. You’re a shoo in for that job.” She states convincingly while wagging her finger at Mila.

“I don’t think so. It’s Harry.” Mila mutters.

“Why do you still have that asshole in your mind? It’ been two years.” Denise says throwing her arms in the air, but whispering yet shouting.

“No, Denise. The boss is Harry.” Denise’s eyes widen and she looks at Mila with such sorrow once again.

Mila has no choice but to drown herself in work. It distracts her from thinking of Harry and the fact that she might not even have an intern position by next week. Yelling at the boss on his first day isn’t really… recommended. The only thing keeping her going is the fact that she already paid the next three months rent in advance. At least that’s something she did not have to worry about. She’s also looking forward to the full moon tonight. Something about that circle in the sky always intrigued her.

The thoughts of Mila and the snores of Steve are interrupted by Griffin. “Steve!” Steve awakens belligerently with a low groan. “Boss-man would like to see you,” Griffin says. Is Harry interviewing for the position now? Mila thinks. She can feel her heart frown as well as her lips.

“I thought he was dead.” Steve says while wiping the crumb out of his eyes.

“New boss. Now wipe that drool off your face and look somewhat presentable. See you up there in 5.” Griffin says as he shoots Mila a small smile and Steve one more glare. Steve does as told and gets up, possibly to rob Mila of her temporary dream job.

Steve hasn’t come back and it’s already past clock out time. Mila has to do last minute touches before she can leave her desk. She skims the window to take in the scenery of the sun setting. The yellows, oranges, and pink mesh together to create intangible beauty, humans barely deserve to look at it. She looks at her reflection and notices that she isn’t the only one there. She turns back swiftly and sees Harry yet again. “Oh hi?” She questions more than says.

“It’s 5:37. What are you still doing here?” He questions while leaning on Steve’s desk.

“I just had to do some work before the... before I leave.” She packs up everything on her desk and grabs her purse.

“Before the full moon?” His voice, light, almost hesitant. “I remember you wanting to finish everything so you can focus on your writing under the moonlight.” He smiles to himself losing eye contact with Mila.

This small talk and walk through memory lane breaks Mila’s heart all over again, but she can’t be mean to her new boss. “Yeah. Anyway, I must go. Good night.” He looks at her directly one last time before moving out of her way.

“Good night, Mila.” She passes him and walks out, not looking back. He stares at her, hoping for one more dose of her brown eyes, but he is left craving.

Now in sweats, fuzzy socks, a Southern Connecticut State sweater and no makeup, Mila sits on her fire escape waiting for the muse of the moon to unleash the breathtaking and wishful words. C’mon moon. Give me something. How about her eyes danced as she searches for… Nope. Human nature is… No. Two years is a HUGE AMOUNT OF...Nada. She can’t seem to focus. All she can think about is how her ex boyfriend is now her boss and she might possibly have to find a new job. Maybe I can work as a barista. I’d be the best damn barista in the… Nah. As if on cue, an unknown number calls Mila. Maybe talking to a tax scammer can clear her mind. “Hello?” Her monotone voice earns a familiar chuckle from the other side.

“Glad you haven’t changed your number.” Harry mumbles over the phone taking Mila back a little. He had saved her number all this time. “Listen, I wanted to apologize if it seemed like I ambushed you with my presence today.” His voice is dim. There is a pause between them. Harry’s side of the phone captures the pops of his fireplace. Harry can also hear the wind howling through Mila’s side. “I’m also sorry that I left.” Those words takes Mila’s breath away. “It was selfish and I can never forgive myself for hurting you. It was never my intention. Seeing you today took me back to before and it,” he gulps before saying, “and it tortured me all day. I just hope we can work past this. Good night.” With that, Mila is left with the dial tone and inspiration.

Her fingers cramp up begging her to stop typing and editing, but she has to or else the moment will be gone. She can see her reflection on the laptop screen and her smile is ear to ear as she finishes up her last line. The moon came through for her tonight like it always has.

The next morning, dreadful. The elevator doors ring as they open up to the third floor revealing Griffin. “Mila! Yes, Mr. Styles has been looking for you! Go upstairs and meet him right away.” He chimes pressing the fourth floor button and walking out, barely giving her time to acknowledge him or even breathe.

She does as told and walks slowly toward his office, and of course she can’t help, but to take a peek into the new editor’s office to see if Steve really got the position. As she peers in, her eyes spot Harry sitting on the desk with his legs up revealing his Chelsea boots and his phone in his hands. Confusingly, she enters capturing Harry’s attention. “Mila!” Taken off guard, he stumbles back with the chair and falls over.

Mila rushes to his side in a fit of laughter. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” She asks in between giggles. Harry joins her with a chuckle that’s infused with a groan of pain. She looks at him and extends a hand, “Need help?” She questions. Harry smiles and accepts her kind gesture.

As soon as the chair is back into place, Harry commands Mila to sit in it. She awkwardly does as Harry goes around to the leather chairs across the desk. “How do you feel?” He asks while sitting down slowly.

“I think I should be asking you. Are you sure you’re okay?” She now seriously asks. He nods and points to her with his hand, directing the question back to her. “Well, I feel pretty good. Why?”

Harry can’t hide the huge smile any longer and says, “I’ve considered deeply who deserves this editor position and you earned it.” Mila’s face doesn’t know if it should smile, roll her eyes or frown. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am. I would love this job, but I can’t help but think that it’s because of our history. Therefore, I do not want it if it’s coming from you.” She wants to earn this job and she genuinely believes she did, but it seems so given to her if it’s by an ex.

Harry stands up, flabbergasted at what she just said. “Mila, look it was between you and Steve. Kelsey doesn’t work here so we ruled her out. Steve? Snoring Steve?” He knows about that? “He was fired yesterday because of the five hour security footage of him sleeping in the janitor’s closet.” He comes closer to Mila’s desk and leans over, using his arms to balance him leaning over Mila’s face. “You were the only who came close to earning this position. If you even think for one second it was magically handed to you because of some past feelings, you’re wrong. This is a business, so do your job.” Harry says sternly and turns around slamming his office door. Mila believes that she has earned this job after what Harry said, but how he said it makes her feel a fire in the dark places of her heart. He didn’t have to scrutinize her in such an impassioned form. I’m taking this job, she thought, and then I’ll take his. Whoa there, Mila, what happened to the plan?

The next few days involve work and longing looks between Harry and Mila that morphs into rolls of eyes and scoffs. They haven’t spoken since Harry’s big blow up and to be frank, Mila doesn’t mind not talking to him. She’s done it for two years, she can handle it. You know who can’t? Big boss man Harry. He can’t stand watching her and not being able to speak to her, so he enters her office. “Yes?” She acknowledges him without looking directly at him. He hasn’t step foot in her new office since he gave her the job and now realizes that she has made it her own. The original poetry on the wall he recognizes from times Mila would read to him at night. The empty shelves were now stacked with her favorite books from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee to Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell. On the pale gray wall there are wooden picture frames that matches her desk with her family in them. She looks up when she realizes that he hasn’t said a word and it is because he is in awe of how much this empty room changed within days. “Yes?” She asks once more.

“Oh, well I was stopping by to apologize.” He says nervously playing with the sleeves of his button down.

“You’ve been doing that lately.” Mila puts her pen on the desk heavily to place her attention on him.

“I didn’t mean to explode like that. I just don’t want there to be a problem between us because of our past. I owned up to my mistakes and you still treat me so cold. Can we both grow up and put this behind us just to have this a decent place to work.” He says, finally letting go of his sleeve and making direct eye contact with her. He can almost feel himself burning from the inside out with the look she’s giving him.

Mila sucks her teeth and contemplates before she nods her head toward the door, signifying him to close it. He does as so and turns to her as she walks around her desk and sits on it. She crosses her legs and let out a breath. “I would love to, but in order for that to happen we must clear the air. Talk about everything and then leave it behind. It’s the only way I can move on and I’m betting the same thing goes for you.” She feels proud handling this so maturely. It’s true, she wants to get along for the sake of their jobs.

He inches closer and sits on the leather couch. “Do you want to start or should I?” He looks up to her gaze and fights the urge to remove the strand of loose hair covering her eyes.

“Well…” She elongates the well and raises her voice high and hops off the desk walking toward the window wall that has the most perfect view of the busy streets and billboards hoping the flashes of light and speeding cars would distract him a bit.

“What did you do?” He tilts his head while his eyes dilate.

Mila hesitates before saying, “I was just so angry at you and I-I…”

“Mila,” He warns.

“I called the board and said that you called me on my personal phone late at night and I found it completely inappropriate and I’m sorry.” She rushes her words and turns to Harry, who practically jumps off the chair causing it to scrap the floor.

“You what?!” Harry snaps and looks at her in disbelief. He inhales deeply and exhales loudly.

Mila can feel her face heat up because of the embarrassment of her retaliation toward Harry’s outbursts. “We can fix this. All I did was leave a message, they probably haven’t heard it.” She says.

“It’s useless.” He whispers putting his face in his hands. “Hopefully I’ll just get a warning or something.” Harry knows a warning is far from reach. Calling an employee of the opposite sex late at night and suddenly giving her a job promotion in his first two days isn’t really a great impression. Harry knows his job was on the line, but he doesn’t want to worry Mila.

“No, no. I have a plan.” She has that determined look in her eyes that Harry is all too familiar with. He begins to protest, but Mila’s brain is already calibrating. There is no stopping her now.

They both make their way to the elevator and head toward the second floor where the board member's offices are. Mila ignores Harry’s pleas to stop her from getting him in anymore trouble. “Okay,” Mila says. “We can’t let them see us or they will know somethings up. We have to crawl past front desk and see where they forwarded my call.” Mila knows her plan sounds strange, but 78% of the time they work, which are good odds for her.

They did as so. Mila leads the way and Harry follows her past the front desk. Harry respectfully attempts to keep his eyes toward the floor and not toward Mila. Mila’s positive that Harry’s tight pants would have ripped by now. They continue to crawl until they are out of sight. “How do you know they won’t be in their office?” Harry questions with a whisper.

Mila tries to come up with a softer way to say, I called again today to report you, but the front desk said they would be in a meeting until eleven. “Not important.” That works, too. “Now check those offices on the left and I’ll check the right ones. We’ll cover more ground.”

There are five offices Harry and Mila must check and only seven minutes to do so. The first office for Mila was dark and only lit by what she assumes was a blueprint mistake. The light source is a small and narrow window place awkwardly on the far left corner of the office. Mila tries to keep her mind on the plan, but the multiple cat painting hanging on the wall distracted her just a tad. Focus Mila. She tells herself over and over while nearing the phone. She picks it up and dials 1, which automatically directs her to the voicemail box, but no luck. The second one for Mila is also a dead end, but Harry’s second one is the winner. He feels the need to listen even though the little voice in his head tells him not to. Which is me. DON’T DO IT HARRY. IT ISN’T GOOD. He ignores and listens to the message.

Hello, I would love to speak to a board member. My name is Mila Castillo and I’d like to report one of your employees. My new boss and I have history. I tried to keep it out of my mind, but I can’t. Especially with him calling me at an unreasonable hour on my personal phone. It was completely inappropriate and I’m hoping you can deal with this. Thank you. Call me back.

Harry’s breath feels like it’s been punched out of him. He deletes the call and walks over to the door, but upon opening it, Mila runs in and shuts the doors. “Board members! Hide!” She whispers. Harry opens the supply closet filled with coats and brooms and grabs Mila by the wrist, pulling her in with him. As soon as the door closes they can swear someone entered. Mila and Harry have no choice but to stand chest to chest in this small supply closet. Mila looks up at him, “Did you find it?” Harry only nods and looks away from her eyes. “And you listened, didn’t you?” Mila wants him to shake his head no, but based on his current expression she already knows the answer. He nods again. “Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking and I…”

“You were right.” He announces in a faint voice, cutting her sentence short. He moves back into some coats, maintaining a few inches from Mila. The silence in the closet makes Mila want to wish herself out of the situation, but wishful thinking can only go so far. Once Harry realizes there isn’t anyone in the room he leaves in a hurry. Mila stays in the closet a little longer hoping to catch the next elevator up.

Harry has been in his office all day with a closed door and Mila feels guilty. She can’t help it. Harry’s words keeps entering her mind as she tries to work; Can we both grow up and put this behind us just to have this a decent place to work. They echo repeatedly until she finally builds up the courage to knock on his door. A deep, “Come in.” is her cue to enter and so she does.

She walks into Harry’s office slowly and sees him looking out the gigantic window that matched Mila’s. He turns to her and offers that false pressed smile that no one wants. Mila closes the door and it vibrates the whole room. “That’s a heavy door.” She says chuckling the awkwardness away. Or so she thinks. Little did she know her chuckling summons more awkwardness. “Okay, I still think we should talk in order for us to work.” She speaks her mind and only hopes he would do the same.

He looks at her and nods, “I do too.” Mila grins, but it soon turns back into a straight line when he says, “When should I schedule our appointment.” He sits down on his chair and pulls himself closer to the desk to take a look at his calendar. “I’m free tomorrow after lunch.”

“Appointment? This isn’t some business deal, it’s about us.” Mila argues.

“You were right. On the phone. It was completely inappropriate and I’m your boss.” He says with such conviction. Mila cannot believe what she is hearing. She scoffs as she turns around and walks right out of the door, slamming it harder this time.

At home, all Mila can do is lay on her bed and think. She looks up to the white ceiling and throws her pillow up then catches it. The bed squeaks every time she uses all her force to throw the fluffy pink pillow up with both hands to the ceiling, but it fails to touch it every time.

Once she gives up, she grabs her phone. She looks at her recent call list and looks for the unknown number Harry called from nights ago. She presses it and breathes out preparing to have the talk with him. Unfortunately she gets his voicemail; You’ve reached Harry Styles. Please Leave a message: “Hey, hi. Listen, um. I’m sorry. I know what I said on the voicemail must have affected you and I didn’t mean them. I was just mad. I get mad and retaliate, you get mad and explode. We’re not perfect. I’m still getting used to this boss and employee relationship and still trying to figure things out. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I sat on my fire escape and contemplated if quitting would work, but you’re right. We both earned these positions and the only way to get through this rough patch is to talk it through and leave nothing in the air. So schedule me for tomorrow after lunch please.” Mila giggles at that last part and hopes that Harry can find it in his heart to not leave her guessing in the dark on where they stand.

The night falls and the moon isn’t as radiant as when it’s full. Especially with the fog and the rain. Mila thought the pitter patter on her window would help her focus, but tonight lightning accompanied with thunder ruined the mood. Mila blames her horrible writing on the night sky. She attempts to write on paper, but soon realizes why she hated it. Crumbled pieces surround her on the gray covered bed and hardwood floors. Her mini trash can from five below overflowed with loose lines of poetry. Her mind yearns for a break from this depressing session. She finally agrees and goes into her kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge. As she chugs it down, she grabs her phone from the kitchen charger and realizes that she has 2 missed calls from the unknown number. She curses under her breath and attempts to call him back, but it goes straight to voicemail. She hangs up and regrets her willpower and rule of no phone while writing.

Unexpectedly a knock appears at her door. She goes to open it and reveals a drenched Harry. She takes a moment to figure out her words, but Harry comes in abruptly. “I can’t wait until tomorrow at lunch.” He says dripping on to the floor. Mila didn’t care that he’s making a mess at this moment. She closes the door and turns to him. “We need to talk and you said fire escape in your message so I was hoping you still live here. Can we please talk?” He says breathlessly. She nods and drinks the rest of her water to calm her sudden dry throat.

After Harry changes into Mila’s extra large SCSU shirt that she would normally sleep in and her brother’s basketball shorts that he left the last time he was here, she lit the fireplace and gave him a blanket to get him warm. He protested on all of that, but Mila was not letting him get hypothermia on her watch. After putting his clothes in the dryer, she finally sits on her plushy couch, joining him. “So,” She starts off, “let’s talk.” She leans her head on her hand which rests on the top of the couch.

Harry admires her soft features he hasn’t seen in years. The fresh face girl has rosy cheeks and plump pink lips that are foreign to him now and he can’t take it anymore. What other reason would he have to walk in the rain than to tell her his feelings that he has been fighting the moment he saw her again. “I,” He says barely audible. He looks at her eyes getting more than a dose and he’s suddenly in a trance. Mila snaps her fingers in his face returning him back to reality. “I left.”

In a flash, Harry remembers the day particularly. Mila and him were a few months in to their relationship and were at a good place. They were never in love, but almost there. Harry and Mila started working straight out of college as interns in a publishing office. It was exciting, adventurous, perfect. Almost like high school where the principle can’t catch you sneaking around. They were both hard workers though and that did not go unnoticed. They were both recommended for the manager position in Eastern London. Harry was the one that got it. Mila would have been supportive of her boyfriend, but what Harry doesn’t know is that Mila dropped out of the running so Harry can have the opportunity of a lifetime. She believed their relationship was strong enough at this point to overcome obstacles such as distance, but she wasted a wishful thought. Unfortunately, what Mila encountered was Harry leaving without telling her. Slowly they became emotionally distant to complement the physical distance. It was simply easier to forget about each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mila’s eyes become glossy as they relive one of the most heartbreaking part of both their lives. The tears threaten to come down, but she puts her chin up and tries to gain control again.

Harry can’t look at her because he knows if he does, he’ll break. His eyes stare at the warm flames trying to distract himself, but once he hears her gasp through the tears, he crumbles. “I knew you gave up that job.” He admits. She looks at him with such confusion. “That’s why I left, because I knew that you giving up that job meant…” He can’t finish that sentence because the fear of him being wrong all these years haunts him and it just can’t be true because leaving would have been for nothing.

Mila sniffles as she calls his name for the first time since she found out she was his employee, “Harry?” He shuts his eyes moments before turning toward her and having a tear stain his pale cheek. “It meant I loved you.” She confesses. Their eyes now can’t look away from each other. “You were scared that I loved you?” She questions.

Harry nods and bites his bottom lip trying to fight back anymore tears before saying, “And I didn’t know if I loved you so, I left.” The truth behind his words makes Mila feel peaceful inside. She isn’t wondering what she did wrong anymore. It feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Harry finally feels like he can breath thin air. “And I’m really sorry. Walking into your office today, I noticed that a lot can change in a short amount of time. You decorated it and it look unrecognizable. Maybe we both are too.” He says removing a piece of hair that always manages to cover her eyes. She takes her hand to return a favor and wipe his tear with her thumb gently.

“Maybe it’s good. A fresh start. It seems like we need it.” While their hands touch one another slightly, they never want to let go of each other or the moment. “So,” Mila chuckles lightly, this time comfortably with no awkwardness at all, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Harry smiles and tells her to go on, “I know you’re my boss and everything, but can I not call you Mr. Styles. I mean it’s weird, isn’t it?” He laughs along, placing his free hand to his chest as if he’s having a laugh attack.

“Harry is fine.” He smiles at Mila and lets go of her hair finally

While waiting for Harry’s clothes to dry, the romantic comedy, The Kissing Booth, played on her living room TV, keeping them busy. Mila decides to grab her laptop and give writing another chance tonight. She sits with Harry on the couch and types away. “My God Mila, don’t you ever take a break?” Harry teases. Mila retaliates by throwing him a throw pillow. He lets out a whine, “Hey! Just because it’s in the name, doesn’t mean you should throw it!”

Just then, the dryer buzzer goes off and Mila puts her laptop on the ottoman. Harry watches her walk to the hallway with a smile plastered on his face. His eyes look down toward the laptop which has her files open. He doesn’t mean to pry, but if a file had your name on it, wouldn’t you? He grabs the laptop and open the Harry files. The last update to it was 5 days ago, when Harry called Mila. He opens the document and the little voice returns; HARRY C’MON! DON’T DO IT, but Harry doesn’t listen.

Bitter green eyes.

Ones that burn you from the inside out.

You disintegrate and put your molecules back together.

Just to be broken again.

Pall pink lips.

Like all the others.

You melt and become lost at sea trying to find yourself.

Just to be lost again.

-Mila Castillo

Harry cannot fathom what he just read. He turns as soon as he hears a creak coming from behind him. He makes eye contact with Mila and she automatically knows what he’s done. “Were you snooping on my laptop?” She puts the basket of his clothes down on the dining table and places her arms crossed against her chest.

“Did you really mean those things about me?” Harry stands up still utterly shocked at her piece. He walks toward her. “Mila, what was all that about? Bitter green eyes? Pall pink lips? Is that really how you felt about me just days ago?” He questions towering her now.

Mila maintains her position and her eyebrow furrow as she states, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but that’s my priva…” Harry’s lips connect with hers, cutting her off. Surprised, Mila’s eyes open wide, but closes slowly as she melts into the kiss.

Harry grabs her waist pulling her in closer and Mila wraps her arms around his neck playing with his brown curls, pulling him closer also. She feels the kiss activating every single part of her body from the hairs standing up to the tingles in her spine. Harry pulls apart gently leaving Mila begging with her eyes, but keeps their foreheads connected as he whispers, “I guess your poetry is fictional.” They smile at each other for a little bit before reattaching their non pall lips.

In that moment Mila realizes that the full moon isn’t her only source of power. The words to describe this sensation of warmth between their bodies run through her mind as she pulls him closer by the hem of the shirt. She might have loved him at one point and this kiss may be epic, but the truth is she is living in the moment and hoping to forget it tomorrow when Harry is her boss once again.

Harry, drunk off the kiss, stumbles a bit trying to secure his balance. He pushes Mila into the wall gently to help him obtain good footing. Although, this is taking lots of focus from Harry’s part, he can’t erase the fact that he left something out of the story. He came back and the only reason he would ever come back is because he still loves her.

[warcats-cat]

False Idol (Good Omens Fanfic)

Hello again!!! Guess who’s back on her bullshit!! It Me!! :D This is my first Good Omens fic, and this chapter hasn’t been beta’d (My beta is really busy rn and I didn’t want her to feel super rushed) This fic has six chapters, and I’m hoping to post them every few days. You can also find this fic on ao3. Please feel free to scream at me!! I crave validation!!

TW for this fic in general: angst, violence, wing violence, blood, character death, depression, funerals, Gabriel being a prick,  and Divine Intervention.

Chapter 1 - Lots of Lovely Things

There were lots of lovely things in A. Z. Fell & co’s bookshop. The building itself was small, and old, but certainly not shabby. The inside was cozy, always warm, and the shop itself was enticing in ways humans simply couldn’t express. Even if the current owner had a tendency to be harsh when dealing with customers, and never seemed to want  to sell his stock, there was something that drew people in.

On a good day, if the shop was quiet and there was a light drizzle outside, you might be able to strike up a conversation with the shopkeeper. He would tell you stories of his treasures within; not the books, but other things, like black and white photographs, or curious objects he claimed to have inherited from his ancestors. Everything in the shop had a story; if one was determined enough, you might at least leave the shop with one or two words-of-mouth.

But one curious object had appeared rather suddenly a few months ago, after the shop had mysteriously closed for several weeks, the doors locked and no notice to be found in the windows.

A little oak box with a glass pane across the front was hung up above the register’s counter. If you looked carefully, you could see a small photograph, a set of keys, and a strangely-shaped pair of sunglasses within the narrow box. Customers had been wondering at the box for some time now, but never worked up the courage to ask about it. The shopkeep hadn't had his previous vigor in keeping the place clean and organized as of late, and was much more easily persuaded into selling his tomes than the months previous. Many assumed the box to be a memorial of some sort. And their assumptions were entirely correct.

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It was a lovely day for a stroll in the park. Ducks swam around merrily in the pond and entertained all manner of visitors, the sun was out and the sky was cloudless.

It was nice to have a little freedom in their days now, and today was a very important day in Aziraphale’s opinion. Today he was going to take a very large risk, and test the limits of that freedom that came in the aftermath of the Not-Pocalypse. Aziraphale was dressed in his comfortable cream-colored coat; what was the point of eternity if one was uncomfortable, after all? Crowley looked quite lovely in his light black jacket and skinny jeans. Long and tall, almost delicate, if the angel didn’t know better.

Although he couldn’t see the demon’s face, there was a slight twist to his mouth that, to the casual observer looked like mere amused disinterest, but  looked like a glowing smile to the Angel. The pair were standing shoulder to shoulder, silently enjoying each other’s company, and Aziraphale casually rolled is shoulders as if to stretch them His wings fluffed and spread in the ethereal plane for just a moment.

This was it. This was the opening Aziraphale had been looking for.

Carefully, and without looking anywhere but straight ahead, Aziraphale reached slowly to his left and took Crowley’s hand in his own, gently intertwining their fingers.

Crowley stopped for a fraction of a second, a near imperceptible blush jumping up on his cheeks. Aziraphale chanced a glance from the corner of his eye, but the demon hadn’t stopped walking. He hadn’t even pulled away. In fact, Crowley seemed to worked up a little extra courage himself, and gently stroked Aziraphale’s thumb with his own. It was acceptance; this was really happening, and it was ok.

Aziraphale knew Crowley had been waiting for this moment for a while, but never would have initiated anything without asking Aziraphale a few dozen times to ensure the Angel’s comfort. If Aziraphale was really ready for public affection, and maybe a closer relationship, he would have to initiate it.

They walked for a while, just holding hands. Aziraphale began to lead Crowley away from the crowds, towards a shady spot at the end of the park. A small miracle was waiting for the pair in the form of a little wicker basket and a red-white-check blanket. There was an easy silence between them as Crowley spread the blanket and Aziraphale began to set out a small plate of tasteful sandwiches and two flutes of champagne. It was the first picnic of the rest of their eternity together. They could figure it out together.

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“Good news!” a voice startled Aziraphale out of the pleasant silence of the bookshop, “We’ve found a way to fix the mess you made!” Gabriel appeared in the doorway, tight faux-smile and clean gray suit adorning him. Aziraphale found himself at a loss for words for a few minutes, blinking owlishly at the archangel.

“O-oh? I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean…” Aziraphale stutters as he idly fixes a series of books on the shelf that didn’t need fixing. He felt incredibly uneasy just being in Gabriel’s presence; this wasn’t supposed to happen. It had barely been two months since the apocalypse had been averted, and the sham-trials of Heaven and Hell, and Aziraphale had really been hopeful that their trick had been successful. Crowley outright refused to speak about the trials, which left Aziraphale even more on edge wondering what exactly Gabriel had been willing to do then. And what would he be willing to do now?

Gabriel’s smile tightened even further, his face appearing almost like over-stretched plastic. “I think you know exactly what I mean, my annoying little Principality.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard and took a steadying breath; niceties were over then, it appeared. He turned to face the archangel fully, and lifted his chin just slightly before addressing his ex-superior.

“I did what I believed would be right. I will not apologize that bloodlust didn't have the opportunity to satiated.” He said simply, with as much confidence as he had. “I am not interested in destruction for the sake of destruction. And clearly, the Almighty isn’t either, because She hasn’t caused me to Fall, nor any other Divine punishments.”

“A punishment doesn’t have to come from God to be Divine.” Gabriel retorted, his smile falling into a sharp glare. It was a threat, but Aziraphale refused to take the bait. He refused to let Gabriel intimidate him. “Anyway, we are willing to overlook your past failures and welcome you back into the Heavenly Army, blah blah blah, be in Megiddo in three days.” The archangel clearly wanted to leave, and was beginning to look both bored and mildly frustrated that he couldn't affect Aziraphale like he used to. He straightened his silken tie and began to turn before a single word stopped him in his tracks.

“ No .” Aziraphale’s answer was quiet. His hands fiddled with his coat behind his back, but otherwise he was the picture of calm and steady. Had Crowley been there, the demon would not have been able to believe his ears; the typically timid and overly-loyal angle openly defying the Archangel Gabriel directly.

Gabriel spun on his heel, straightening taller than (humanly) possible and fixing Aziraphale with a venomous stare, as if he could ignite the principality with his eyes alone. "Excuse me?" All pretense of friendliness or propriety was gone from his voice. This was the most dangerous position Aziraphale could imagine himself in, and he had stared into the face of Satan himself. “I think you should rethink that response.”

Aziraphale squared his shoulders, lifted his chin a little higher, and met the archangel’s eyes. “I don’t believe in bloodshed. I don’t believe in war. And I will not help you destroy the Almighty’s creation over nothing.”

Gabriel set his jaw, huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest. “The Great War of Heaven and Hell is not nothing. We will win.” Suddenly, Gabriel was inches from his face, one hand fisted in the front of Aziraphale’s shirt. “You have no right to disobey direct orders. And if you tell your little traitor friend about this, or if either of you interfere, you’ll both learn what Divine Punishment really means.” and with that, the Archangel was gone, leaving Aziraphale alone in his bookshop.

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“Ok, angel, what’s wrong?” Two days later, and angel and a demon were having tea in the back of a quiet bookshop. Crowley looked concerned, at least as far as Aziraphale could tell. His mouth was turned down just slightly, the clock in the little kitchenette was ticking softly, and it occurred to Aziraphale that he had no idea how long they had been sitting at the table, nor how long the shop had actually been empty.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” He asked. Crowley’s face set stern for a moment before softening again. He sighed dramatically, before reaching for the spoon in Aziraphale’s hand.

“You’ve been staring at this creme brulee for six minutes, and your tea went cold almost ten minutes ago. Ya’got something going on up there. What’s wrong?” he asked the last two words more pointedly, and set the forgotten desert aside. The angle fidgeted in his chair for a moment, trying to decide what to say.

“They’ll be having their war tomorrow morning. It seems all the work we did was for nothing…” He stood, as if to begin cleaning up and putting away the dishes by hand, before Crowley put out a hand to stop him.

“What war, angel? Where are they having it? We could still--”

“We can’t stop them!” Aziraphale half-shouted over the demon’s speeding words. “Gabriel--” He worked his jaw for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Gabriel stopped by a few days ago. He wanted to leave me a warning. To not interfere.” He pushed past Crowley towards the sink, not feeling up to the act of a miracle. Crowley was out of his chair in a moment, his movements silent as a snake.

“Did that prick threaten you?!” Crowley spat the ugly word. Aziraphale flinched, involuntarily, which caused the demon to soften just a touch, and lower his voice. “Did he threaten you, Aziraphale?” When the angel hesitated, Crowley moved around him to dry the dishes with a towel.

“In so many words. We have instructions not to interfere tomorrow. I already denied him my own metaphorical sword in the fighting.” there was a beat of silence before Crowley spoke.

“You’re afraid.”

“Of course I am. I thought we would have time . I thought the earth and humans and Creation would be safe! At least for a few years . But there’s a war that begins tomorrow at dawn and somehow the powers of Hell and Heaven have at least agreed upon a time to have their war and I feel absolutely powerless !” His hands had begun to tremble, and Crowley took him by the forearms and guided him to sit on a couch in a room off from the kitchenette. “I don’t like the thought that all of our effort was for nothing. And I don’t believe this is part of the Almighty’s plan!”

“Then we should do something, Angel.” was Crowley’s simple answer. Aziraphale shook his head, unsure that it would be possible to stop a second time.

“I don’t think we can. And I don’t know if we should.” he responded, quietly. “I don’t even know if I want to.” Crowley watched the angel carefully, as he sagged against the demon. This was much closer than they had been before, but Crowley was trying not to ruin the moment. His angel was clearly hurting. And then Aziraphale grabbed onto Crowley’s midsection and buried his face in the demon’s chest.

“ I’m so tired .” he mumbled, barely a whisper. Crowley tried his best to be comforting and tender, feeling like nothing but sharp lines and points while trying to hold onto an absolute marshmallow of an angel. He took a slow breath and moved a hand to rub Aziraphale’s back.

“I know angel.” And they stayed that way well into the night, even into the following morning. One of their first real moments of closeness happening on the morning of a war.

Read chapter 2 here!!

[thirstyhscwriter]

Home for the Holidays Part 2 II Eric/OC II Holiday/Office AU

Part One

Can you tell I have a few days off work? I’m enjoying this story, even if it is a bit more slow burn than my others. Let me know what you guys are thinking and if there’s anything else you want to see, otherwise you can expect to see the next part soon. 

Eric was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Shoulders squared she could not help but notice the tension that was all over him. Of course, tension on Eric only made his muscles bulge bigger. Still, she had never seen him looking quite so… uncomfortable before.

“You ok?” She asked, coming to stand awkwardly by his side. “I’m fine” His frown displayed how unhappy he was to be asked the question. Even so, his eyes raked over her body, taking in every curve the dress showed off. She began to blush under his gaze, “I’m glad you wore something I bought you, instead of one of your ridiculous pantsuits.” “I don’t only own pantsuits.” “Don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, slowly seeming to relax, “They’re all I’ve ever seen you in.” “So? I’ve only ever seen you in suits. I’m sure you wear something else away from the office.” He only frowned in confusion at her statement. Surely, he didn’t only wear suits. Even Eric must own casual clothes. He couldn’t wear suits to bed.

She was still trying to shake the mental image of just what exactly Eric wore to bed when she heard a cry from behind them. His arm awkwardly snaked around her as he turned them to face a woman who could only be his mother. She was impeccably dressed, a suit that could only be from a designer label, and perfectly tailored to her form. There was a drink in her hand, stable despite the slight shake in her fingers which suggested this was not her first of the night. “Eric, darling, this must be the girl your father was telling me about.” His mother swept her up, giving her a heavily perfumed peck on either cheek, before stepping back to properly admire her. “You have no idea how happy it makes me: to see you with a serious girlfriend. And such a pretty one as well.” Eric’s mother looked up at him with true love in her eyes, it would have melted her heart, had she not known that Eric could not return whatever misguided affection his mother felt. She would never have bought a near stranger into her own mothers’ home just to prove a point. Guilt suddenly washed over her. Eric’s mother was looking at her with such joy as if trying to commit each aspect of her to memory, and it was all a lie, a cruel trick being played on her by her own son. “I think I need a drink.” She had wrenched herself out of Eric’s awkward embrace, all of this lying, just for a job. Was she as bad as he was? “Of course, dear,” Blindly she moved away from Eric and his mother, hearing the beginning of their conversation fading behind her “So how did you meet her?”

The benefit of a fancy party like this was that there was no shortage of alcohol. The drinks were strong and plentiful, leaning against the wall she threw back one, and another was instantly put in her hand. “Steady there. I didn’t know Eric was such a painful date.” She looked up to see an attractive man leaning on the wall next to her. He too was in an expensively tailored suit. Unlike Eric, however, there was something more relaxed about this one, tie hanging lose around his neck, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. Where Eric was closed off, uninviting there was something open, albeit cocky, about this man. He offered her his hand, with a pang she realised he was the first person to actually introduce themself to her and not simply treat her as an accessory on Eric’s arm. “I’m Tobais, old family friend of Eric’s, fellow prisoner at the holiday celebrations.” She accepted his hand gratefully, enjoying the flirtatious tone in his voice.

“Go on then. Drinking like that I can’t imagine you’re here by choice. How did Eric rope you into this?” He clinked his own drink with hers before throwing it back, “I’m his date. We’ve been dating for a couple of months. Office relationship so we haven’t really told anyone until now.” She gave him the script her and Eric had carefully prepared, “Office part I’ll believe the two of you look more like business partners than a couple. You’ve barely touched him since you arrived. If I was here with a girl who looked like you do I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.” He had stepped in closer now, a hand lifting up to tuck away a lock of her hair. She caught his hand with a playful grin, removing it from her hair, although she certainly didn’t step away. “presumptuous to believe that I would let you.” He grinned at her words, raising his eyebrows slightly. Evidently, Tobias liked to play.

Suddenly she felt a body pressed against her back. Without looking she could feel who it was, eyes having already taken in every curve of this frustratingly taught body. She could feel Eric’s glare over her head, confirming what Tobias’s flirtation had already made her suspect. Their families may be friends but Tobias and Eric were not.

“Congrats Coulter, she’s much too good for you,” Tobias told him, an amused grin spreading across his face. She wiggled, trying to remove herself from Eric’s body, and the way it was making her stomach turn. He only held on tighter, securing her against him, as if trying to protect her from the harmless man in front of them. “What’s that supposed to mean.” “I mean she deserves a… lover” Once again Tobias’s eyes raked over her, “Not a business partner.” “What…” As fast as she could she reached back to silence Eric, preventing him from saying something that would get them both in trouble. With no sight to aim for and little room to move, however, she ended up grabbing his thigh. It had the desired effect of silencing, the low hiss he emitted, however, nearly made the breath catch in her own throat. “Tobias was just telling me how he struggles to comprehend a couple not partaking in PDA.” Quickly releasing his thigh, she resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her dress, “I was just telling him that unlike other couples we save our intimacy for intimate moments.”

Tobias let out a sarcastic scoff before giving Eric the once over “Coulter, always a pleasure.” His eyes drifted to her one last time, “I’ll see you around.” She only nodded in response, lightly biting her lip at the heat in his gaze. As soon as he was out of sight Eric released her, seeming to all but push her away. “Stay away from Tobias, he’s dangerous. If he caught onto what we were doing he’d have no qualms in using it against me.” What exactly had transpired between Eric and Tobias, she wondered, whatever it was it had left no shortage of bad blood. Eric, evidently, had wronged the other man in some visceral way. “I don’t think we have to worry about him. He was just enjoying meeting a like-minded person at this party.” Someone under the age of fifty he didn’t hate. “What about you, did you enjoy his company more than the others at this party?” There was a hint of jealousy in Eric’s voice that gave her pause. Apparently, Eric could not stand to share even his fake toys. Well, she would not be treated like a possession any longer at this event. “I said I’d help you, I never said I’d enjoy it.” She turned to walk away from him, before she could, however, he reached out, catching her wrist and pulling her back towards him. One hand reached up for her hair, burying his fingers in her hair, where Tobias’s fingers had sat only moments previously. His lips were heavy on her own, possessive and demanding, it left her completely breathless as she pressed herself harder into him, wanting to feel every inch of him against herself, his hard body against her soft one.

All to soon he had pulled away, “What do you think?” He asked smirking, “Enough to convince our friend we want each other?” “Huh…” Was all she could manage, the feeling of his hot lips against her own still lingering.  His smirk grew as his eyes came down to inspect her. He leant forwards to whisper in her hear, hot breath making the hairs their stand on end, “I can always make this enjoyable for you if you want…”

Before she could respond or recover, two women were upon them. Eric’s mother and what she could only assume was one of her friends. “I haven’t seen a display like that in quite some time. Really, Eric, I know this is new but you could maintain some more control at an event like this.” His mother was looking at her with disproval now, evidently worried she had captured her son with something other than good, family values. “I don’t mind it at all, good to see some passion at these events, Lord knows I don’t get enough of it. You must tell us the story of how you met if current interactions are anything to go off it must be quite the tale.” The friend was standing by her side now, giving Eric’s mother a warning glance.

“Nothing quite so exciting I’m afraid. We started at work around the same time. We met by working together. Respect and other feelings came much later.” She hoped these words would reassure Eric’s mother, and she certainly did seem calmer, taking her son’s arm into her own. “The story you should here is the one Eric was telling me earlier, about the moment he first knew he was in love with her.” She was looking proudly up at her son now, “Mother…” There was a warning in his voice that cemented her need to know what exactly she was talking about, “I don’t think Eric’s ever told me this story. When exactly did you know you were in love with me.” He gave you a withering look which you ignored, turning to his mother, knowing she would be your best hope of hearing the story he had made up. “He told me it was on the Jackson case…” She remembered that case, evidently Eric was following his own advice of trying to keep his stories as truthful as possible. That had been early on in their work, the first case where she had bested him, finding a flaw he and everyone else at the company had overlooked. Of course, solving it had involved sneaking into his desk and stealing the 

file. She had thought he might kill her when she handed her solution into their bosses. She’d savoured that look ever since. “Apparently the two of them were rather competitive. He said he’d never seen such a masterful solution, that he’d never seen such a brilliant mind in his life.” “Mother.” Eric had gone bright red now, a nice touch she thought. “I don’t think I worded it exactly like that.” “You did. Don’t be embarrassed Eric, it’s a sweet story.” Turning back to her friend she continued. “He told me he knew in that moment this was the women who would push him to be better, would make him the best version of himself. Is that not the sweetest thing you ever heard?” She felt her heart stop. She knew it was just a tale, a story he had weaved to make his mother believe they were together, even so, it was exactly what she had always hoped a man might one day say about her. “I think you’ve said enough mother.” Eric reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from his mother and her stories.  

“Well, you weave a believable story I’ll tell you that.” She joked, trying to hide just how hot her skin was once again feeling. “Sure.” He told her, refusing to meet her eyes, “Great story.” Eyes searching around the room he pulled at his tie, frustration all over his face. “Room full of Alcoholics and I still can’t seem to get a damn drink”

@iammarylastar  @bethcline1971

[goddesslyfics]

O My Heart (Gilbert x Violet)

My first Violet Evergarden fic. (*＾▽＾) To me, this doesn’t feel like my most polished work. but the past few weeks have been so emotionally draining I was relieved to have completed something and not have my blog fall into another lull.

I will definitely be writing more of these two, so stay tuned!

Read on AO3 here: (x) or below!

“Violet, is something wrong?”

Gilbert watched Violet beneath a drawn brow, feeling much as if he'd swallowed a stone this afternoon and it had just hit his stomach. It had been earlier that day that the two were reunited after several months, the veil of his presumed death lifted. When they’d found themselves face to face, Violet had melted into his embrace as he'd offered it. He’d held her as she became pliant in his arms, and they sank to their knees midway through the door frame, her knees hitting the hardwood of the front porch and his sinking into the plush carpet of the foyer. Not long after, however, had she grown stiff, as if realizing it had been a stranger with his arms around her.

Gilbert had entreated her inside, and following a late supper, the pair retired to the parlor, where they sat side by side on the sofa in front of the fireplace, which crackled with a vibrant life, as though Violet's long awaited presence served as added kindling. As Gilbert had little to share from his time spent in recluse, Violet’s work as an Auto Memories Doll supplied most of the conversation. She had spoken not, as Gilbert had feared, of names and locations as though she were reciting a report. Instead, she regaled him with stories of people and places with a recognizance of fulfilled experience she had not possessed as a soldier in his army. He'd kept himself hidden from her for such purposes, and a long-held sigh was released once faced with the remarkable progress of the woman he found himself enraptured by. Although he’d had to correct her each time she’d punctuated a sentence with Major, urging her to say Gilbert instead, and she ended up dropping the use of titles altogether as a result.

Gilbert had been content-more than content, beside himself-to sit back on the sofa and listen to her continued stories of her new job, her new life. He’d slipped his hand into hers at one point, his left hand, that he’d lost in the war, absentmindedly stroking the plate of her knuckles with his metallic thumb. She hadn't yet seemed to notice.

“Violet?” He prompted once more, when she seemed not to have heard. She’d trailed off, midway through recounting her assignment to transcribe a new script for a famous playwright. “Are you feeling alright?”

She seemed to become alert, then, her shoulders lifting like a automaton doll coming to life as she turned to face him. “I do not understand what I am feeling.” There was a present quality of strain to her voice. She trailed off before picking back up again. “I understand what I do not feel.” She weakly raised her right hand, intertwined with his, off the sofa. They’d both shed their gloves- there was no need for them, when they shared that prosthetic feature.  “I cannot detect any physical sensation in my hands. Do we not have the same prosthesis model? Is yours tuned to a higher sensational degree than mine?”

“I . . . no, it is not.”

“Then, you cannot feel my hand in yours? As I cannot feel your hand in mine?”

“I . . . can’t feel anything.”

A lie.

Though there was not the physical weight or texture of her hand in his, he had been as keenly aware of the contact as he was the fire in the hearth warming his body, or the support of the sofa which kept him seated upright. He had envisioned the moment they’d be side by side again with inexhaustable yearning, and cannot deny that this absolution of the moment absorbed him wholly, as if a magnet were fixed to each of his nerve endings, drawn to her only.

If she were to run from him, and hide in any room of the manor, he would find her. He would feel her, and he would find her. Violet’s presence in the room was such as a bright light, inescapable even if he were to turn away, cover his head and shield his eyes. His heart sunk at the thought that she did not feel he reflects that same light. That she could lose him so easily. He chastised himself for becoming so occupied with this dreamlike detachment, as if he had been watching their exchange pass from outside of his own body. Instead, above, he hovered over that caress of someone’s thumb over her knuckles and wondered, achingly, how it would feel to touch bare skin. Flesh, not metal. He could find someplace safe, her shoulder, her cheek, though he withheld, unwilling to interrupt the machinations of her thoughts that she was struggling to translate to word.

“I felt for a moment, just then, that I was back in my boarding room, in Leiden. I would sit at my desk and complete a report about the day's assignment. I would type them as I’ve spoken aloud just now, and I’d imagine you reading them, just as you’re listening now. But . . . you grew quiet, and I couldn’t feel your hand, and it felt like it always did then. I’d imagine you, and I would have to make myself remember that I was alone.” Her brow narrowed, the line of her mouth tightening. There was sorrow in her eyes, chagrin in her posture, and her grip on his hand was limp, as if she couldn’t care to hold him to her.

“Aside from the two weeks I was hospitalized recovering from our last battle, I have spent each day of the past several months searching for an answer to tell me what your last words to me meant. ‘I love you.’ Due to my position as an Auto Memories Doll, I have been witness to different variations of love, be it between a brother and sister, a parent and child, or a couple to be married. Within each relationship, I learned something new, something that made this love different from the one I saw last. Yet, were I called to summarize what I learned in one sentence, I could.” Though she did not seem to realize, her voice had begun to warble, her eyes water. She looked steadfast into the fire. Her eyes must have been burning.

“Saying to someone that you love them means that you are going to stay with them. Yet, you, Major, left. You told me you loved me, and you left me. That is what I do not understand.”

Gilbert’s head dropped in shame, deflating with a sigh. He could feel Violet’s eyes trained on him, in the same manner one feels the noontime sun bearing down its heat in the summer. “I acted in what I though was aligned to your best interests, Violet. I longed to give you a normal life. Apart from the war, the constant running. I realized, and it was the most painful realization that I’ve come to yet, that I could not be a part of your life when you saw me only as your major. I am unspeakably sorry that the grief you suffered at my expense was false. But I knew all the while, you would never be truly free, with me. I am the war.” He cleared his throat, as the rise of emotion within his chest threatened to overtake him. “I was, at the very least. I am not sure, quite, who I am to be now. I'm not sure I have to right to be who I'd like, regardless."

From his side, Violet whispered, “You’re Gilbert.” And finger by finger, her hands curled around his.The tension in her body left her, aside from that hold. “And you must live, as I must live as well.” Through the clamp in her throat she continued. “I . . . was recently taught what it means to be lonely. What the heaviness in my heart meant. I realized at that moment that I would rather die than live without you. When I was told you were missing in action, I wished very deeply that the same fate would befall me. But I couldn’t die, because you had ordered me to live. I could not work around this contradiction. But I had to, because in taking your final orders, I freed myself from having to take anyone else’s. Now I am Violet, Auto Memories Doll. And I will go anywhere to meet your request.”

“Anywhere?” Gilbert lifted his head, meeting her unwavering gaze. She had presented an inexplicable draw, the ardent hope of her words spoke to a dream he’s been having of late. While her words pierced him, I wished very deeply that the same fate would befall me, they healed him also. He finds himself inching towards her, unbidden. There was a new light in her eyes, the light they both lived by. He wished to remain as close to it as possible.

“Anywhere.”

Their foreheads met. They could both feel it. Their breath mingled, like the currents that combine to make a storm; his heated, hers cool. “There are times when parting is inevitable.” Gilbert sighed, felt his throat tighten. “But in my definition of love, know this; I will always return to you.” His squeezed her hands to punctuate his point, though he knew she would only feel the faint tug to her wired tendons. “And if you need to feel me, tell me.”

Violet held his half gaze, suspending a question between them. The answer settled like a chill, dusting both their cheeks with a highset blush. She moved with pristine stillness, the kind that often got her mistaken for a doll, and closed the breadth of distance between them to lay a kiss upon his eyepatch. Her lower lip grazed his cheekbone by only a fraction, yet the ghost of sensation was enough to render his breathless, a roseate flush drawn up his neck. A kiss. “What do you know of kisses, Violet?” He dared to whisper, though feared he may shatter the air of intimacy surrounding them, which hung suspended there, frozen and fragile as glass.

Violet pulled away slowly, considering. “I know they can be warm, and cold. Their main purpose seems to be to express affection, but they also serve to comfort, and form a bridge of sorts, between two people. That is what I’ve gathered, from my experiences.”

Gilbert pitched a brow in question as a shudder ran through his heart, slicing through its chambers. He hadn’t expected her answer would come from her experience. Jealousy is an ugly creature, he knew this, but its head reared within him for a brief, turgid moment. “And whom have you kissed before now?”

“A young girl kissed my cheek as I was departing from an assignment. She had believed me to be a doll- not an Auto Memories Doll, but one like a child’s plaything, made of porcelain. She was quite surprised to find my cheek was flesh.” Her lips tipped into a smile-did she know that she was smiling?-at the memory of young Ann, who, at eight years old, would have received the first of fifty of her mother’s letters penned by Violet’s hand. Gilbert watched the rememberance play out on Violet’s face with a smile of his own, relief sinking into his chest that the kiss she had spoken of hadn’t been romantic in nature. His right hand, the one supremely capable of gathering sensation, raised to her face. His thumb curved along her cheek, sweeping over the spot where the young girl’s kiss may have been laid.

“I also kissed the forehead of a soldier as he lay dying.” Violet continued. Gilbert’s thumb froze mid-caress. “He had been stationed in Ctrigall, and commissioned a Doll to write a letter home to his parents and a woman named Maria, whom he had developed romantic feelings for. He had been mortally wounded by the rebel faction before I arrived, though I addressed his wounds and wrote the letters. I . . . watched as the life drained out of him.” Here, Violet’s eyes took on a glassy distance as she retreated into the memory, so unlike the story she told last. When her eyes closed so saw that snowed-in cabin, the stain of blood on the hardwood. Gilbert pulled her close to him, to comfort her as a kiss might, though she seemed not to notice. “He asked me to hold his hands, which I did. He was shaking, and speaking aloud to the girl, Maria, though she was not there. He told her ‘I love you.’ That is when I kissed him. However, I was not thinking of him at all. Is that selfish of me?”

She raised her head from Gilbert’s chest, her eyes becoming alert and pleading. “I do not think that is selfish at all.” Gilbert murmured. He could scarcely hear himself over the echo of his heart pounding from within his chest, beating still, despite his previous doubts. “You had managed to escape the war, only to have yourself thrown back into it. War leaves imprints on a person, whether they realize them or not. I’ve heard some refer to it as ‘shell shock.’ You likely reverted back into the mental state of when you were fighting, which prevented you from focusing on this soldier. His battles were not yours, after all.”

Violet nodded in dismissive indication that she heard him, though if she agrees remains unclear. Taking a single steadying breath, she drew herself upright and continued without break. “I delivered the letters to his family personally. When I did, they did the most peculiar thing. They thanked me. They would not accept my apologies for letting him die, instead acting as though I had brought Aidan himself to their doorstep. How could they reserve their anger like that?” A newfound urgency broke through to her tone, her gaze sweeping back to Gilbert with the expectancy that he knew precisely why this abstruse family had refused to cast stones upon her and her letters.

Gilbert merely shook his head, his brows drawn in a sort of mournful consternation. “Violet, you continue to be the most selfless person I have ever known.”

“Self-less?” Violet mulled over the new word, allowing for the taste of it, the meaning, to settle. “Yes, I think you are correct. I hardly ever thought of myself in the past. I only thought about you.”

Gilbert sucked in a breath, and all at once the inches’ distance between them felt like a chasm, a void that must be closed. He raised both hands to cup her face, smoothing the few loose strands of flaxen hair that had escaped from her braids.

“Violet?” She nodded mutely. “Have you ever exchanged a kiss on this lips?”

Her eyes widened. “From my understanding, a kiss on the lips is reserved for lovers.”

“Yes, it is.” Gilbert breathed, sweeping his thumb over the cleft of her lip with a feather like touch. Violet’s crystalline blue eyes widened further, then narrowed in understanding, though she did not draw away. She allowed her eyes to slide shut, shutting off the light from within. She lifted her face slightly, as she’d seen couples do, either as passerbys on the street or in the picture shows her colleagues liked to sometime go to after work. Her heart struck a heightened pace, like a train pulling out of its station. She wondered how fast it'd have to beat to shoot from its tracks, straight from the thin walls of her chest.

Gilbert’s hand slid to her chin, his fingertips just grazing her jaw, tilting it slightly and drawing her lips towards his by fraction, slow enough that she would have time to withdraw. Her stillness kept them align, however, and his lips descended upon hers. Their lips moved in a gentle waltz, exquisitely in tune to their partner. All impressions unreliant to this moment slid away; the crackle of the fire replaced by the hallow and intake of their breathing, the rustle of clothing as the remaining space between them was cleared.

They part once at a loss for breath, feeling rather unsteady in returning to the atmosphere they’d both felt they’d broken apart from. Time resumed in a steady fashion, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room keeping up pace as though it had never stopped.

“Gilbert,” This time she spoke without need for correction. Her hands curled into his shirtfront, holding him to her. “Could you say those words to me, one more time?”

His smile told her he will say those words however many times she’d like.

“Violet, I love you.”

[redhoodsjacket]

Hard to Understand - Steve Rogers (1/2)

Hey I’m back, for a while I hope. So um, I’m trying to write something light but it just won’t work haha. WELL. That’s what I got. Hope you enjoy more drama. Part 2 coming eventually.

If you want light stuff send me prompts because I’m running dry here

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Cop!Reader

Genre: drama

Word count: 2414

Summary: Four years after Steve left, he shows up again at your work, asking for your help on an urgent task.

Warnings: A gun, and maybe one (1) curse words? Can’t remember exactly if I watched my language in this one. Most likely not.

"Um, (Y/N)..."  You paused your typing on the keyboard and looked up at Brendan, another of your precinct's detective and your best friend. You raised an eyebrow, silently inviting him to continue. "There is someone here for you" He said slowly before adding one quick remark. "Please don't freak out" 

You looked up at the bullpen, immediately noticing the tall blond man awkwardly observing around, like a lost child. You froze into your seat as he noticed you as well, trying a small, timid smile. He walked up to you and stopped at a reasonnable distance from your desk.  "Rogers" You greeted first with a professional nod, avoiding his glance. You still caught the hurt look on his face at the cold words.  "(Y/N)" He returned after a sigh. "It's uh, good to see you" "What do you want?" You cut to the point directly, not in the mood to make small talk with your ex boyfriend. You had met Steve a few years ago, when he moved in Washington after the events of New-York. Back then, you were an aspiring Lieutenant who was willing to take any big case to prove your worth, even if it meant working along with S.H.I.E.L.D on a situation you were violently under qualified for. Luckily for you, Captain Rogers had been there to make it all the better. It had instantly clicked between you two, and despite both of your packed up schedules you managed to give a try for a romantic relationship.  It was great while it lasted. You had always had a hard time to find a guy that would respect you and your job, but with Steve, you didn't have to worry about that. He was amazing, on top of being funny and witty. The perfect guy, really. But then, SHIELD fell. It was the beginning of the end for your relationship. Steve started to become more and more secretive, leaving for long period of times without clearly telling you what he was doing. Steve was overall great, but he couldn't lie to save his life. So he was always poorly deflecting the topic, throwing you some shitty excuses.  Now you understood that being a genetically modified dude from the 40's couldn't be easy, and that secrets came in a package deal with the man. But it became much more than you could handle, so you parted ways.  "I need your help" Steve said, and you sat back in your chair. "Something important was stolen from me" "I will give you the stolen possession form to fill and transfer you to detective Richardson" You replied, digging out the form from your desk. "No!" He hurried, and you paused again. He looked alarmed, quickly glancing from left to right. "I need your help. I can't trust anyone else with this" You crossed your arms over your chest as your eyebrows raised to the ceiling. "Uh, that's new" You huffed sarcastically. "What made you change your mind?" "(Y/N) please" Another pained look flashed across his face. "It doesn't have to be like that" "Well I think it does" You said flatly. "You're the one who ghosted me, remember?" "And I will be forever sorry about that" He admitted, and at least he seemed sincere. You knew he was, but it didn't make it better. "But this might be very well a life or death situation" "Yes and that's why I'm transferring you to Richardson. She's specialized in this kind of situation and will handle your case with the utter most professionalism" You explained. He leaned on the desk and bent closer to you. "I need to find it before it falls into the wrong hands" He ushered. "You're the best detective in this city. Please, I'm begging you, I really need your help. You know I wouldn't have bothered you if I didn't have anyone else to turn to" You debated for a few seconds, then nodded. He truly looked desperate, and even if you were still angry and hurt from your relationship, you couldn't deny your duty. That sounded like an important item indeed, and safety could be at risk. You nodded shortly with a sigh. His shoulder sagged in relief. "Thank you so much" "Not doing it for you" You clarified, standing up. You gathered the file you were currently working on and went to Richardson's desk. "I'll need you to take over this case for me, an emergency has popped up" "Right on Lieutenant" She replied and took the file. "Thank you" You gave her a small smile and walked back to your desk, grabbing your jacket.  "Where to?" /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/ "You must be kidding me" You said with the straightest face, but you really wanted to scream at him. Was he doing it on purpose? "You wasted my time for your personal journal?" "It's not just a journal" He defended. "It's important-" "Listen" You interrupted him, trying to keep your cool, which was becoming harder with the second. "I get that you're sentimentally attached to that thing, or that you wrote some personal shit you'd be embarrassed to see out in the media, but labelling this as an emergency? Seriously? What are you trying to do?" "Wha- No!" He exclaimed. "It's not that! In that journal I had a list of active Hydra operatives, and it's been stolen" "Oh so you had a list of international terrorist just hanging around your stuff?" You drew your eyebrows. "Nice shot. Although I doubt that the person who stole it will do the same mistake. Forget it Steve, it's gone" "Do you think I would just have a list of name clearly written for anyone to see?" He asked, sounding a bit hurt by your assumption. "They are coded in my drawings" "Alright, great, they're coded" You let your hands fall loudly against your thighs. "Why not going straight to the court of justice then, to bring them to trial?" "Because I need to have a solid file against all of them, which I don't have yet" He explained. "If I only have a handful of them, the rest will flee and they'll be off radar forever" You didn't reply as Steve stopped the car in front of an old building in a semi legit part of DC. You got out of the car and pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, feeling the cold hitting you harder now that you weren't sheltered by the buildings anymore. You entered the place and walked up the stairs to the fifth floor, every steps squeaking under your feet. You finally followed Steve into an apartment at the far end of the corridor, where only ushered voice were coming from another room. You went ahead, passed two doors and walked right into the kitchen where two men were bent over the table, checking out what seemed like blurry pictures. One of them looked up, and your instincts reacted faster than your mind.  Recognizing the face instantly, you grabbed your gun from your holster and pointed it at him. Your heart was beating fast, but he seemed as calm as ever. He never jumped or even flinched, he just stood there, seemingly accepting the situation. It made you confused.  You would have expected him to jump over and disarm you, or at least run away. But he didn't move an inch. "Hey hey hey" Steve hurried, stepping in your line of shoot and pushing down the gun. "Don't, he's a friend" You let Steve disarm you as you kept up the staring contest with the metal armed man. James Barnes, he was called. Last time you've seen him, he was destroying your city and getting civils caught in his crossfire.  "I'm sorry" He spoke in a voice that kind of made you pity him. You hadn’t accused him of anything yet, and there he was, apologizing. That threw you off real good, because you were left blinking like an idiot. Out of all the things you thought he'd say, that definitely wasn't in the list.  "Bucky, you don't have to-" "What is going on here?" Someone else chimed in, and you welcomed the break of the tension. The man stopped in his tracks as he took in the scene, his eyes travelling from Barnes, to Steve, to the gun in his hands, to you, then to Steve again in the middle, and finally snapping back to you. "Jesus Christ, is that..." "We needed her help" Steve defended. "You said it was impossible without an access to legal matters" "And you thought bringing a cop here was a good idea? With Tin-man and all?" He deadpanned while Barnes rolled his eyes. "She's the only cop I'm a hundred percent sure is clean" He replied. "She won't give us away" "And it had to be her" He stated, glancing quickly at you. "No offence" "None taken" You half shrugged. "If you'd excuse me a second" He nodded harshly at Steve and they went in another room. It left you in an awkward silence with Barnes, something you would have rather not experienced.  He still eyes you carefully, as if you would pull another gun on him and shoot. However, he didn't seem like he wanted to attack you, or anyone else for that matter.  "What's their deal?" He tried a conversation, tilting his head toward where the two men went.  "I uh," You didn't expect the question, so it threw you yet again off. "I'm Steve's ex" You admitted.  He too didn't expect that, because his eyes went wide for a second. "Oh" "Yeah, oh" You pulled your lips together in a thin line.  "Why'd ya break up?" He asked, and you could tell he hadn't meant to say that out loud. You laughed dryly and crossed your arms against your chest, swaying slightly from one foot to another. "That's a funny story" You said, looking down. You too didn't mean to spill anything more, but the hurt you had felt resurfaced full force. "You see, he suddenly left with a guy he knew for fifteen minutes on a top secret quest I just discovered the purpose of" Realization flashed in his eyes as he put two and two together. Steve had left you, called things off when he left with Wilson to find Barnes. He wouldn't tell you why back then though, and he had never clarified after either. You understood what they were looking for-or rather whom-sometimes in between you clicking the safety off of your gun and Steve blocking your path.  "That's not ideal" He carefully said, his eyes shifting to the threshold when Steve and Wilson came back into the room. "So, let's start with..." Steve began, but his words were halted by Bucky's stare on him. "What? What is it?"  "You're such a punk, you know that?" Barnes said, making Steve frown in confusion. "You literally left her for me" You felt your face redden at his bluntness as Steve raised his eyebrows at you. "You told him?"  You took a deep breath and pumped some confidence in your veins. "Yeah, I thought it would suck for him to be the only one not knowing what was going on" You answered with a tight smile.  "Oh damn" Sam whispered as Barnes' eyes widened.  "Fair enough" Steve cleared his throat and gestured you to the table. "Now let's focus on the task at hand" /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/ "Wait" You paused your motion of opening the car door and turned to face Steve. He looked uncertain, but there was something in his expression that told you he was about to say something important. "I uh, I'm really, and I mean really sorry for how we left off" He said, not meeting your eyes. "I know I hurt you, and I discovered today that I actually hurt you way more than I initially thought. It was wrong of me to do so, and I hope you can one day forgive me" You sucked in a breath at his words, not expecting such a heartfelt apology, especially not now. You knew it had been bothering him for a while, and that he was being sincere. "When you told me you'd be leaving and that you wouldn't even tell me why, I felt betrayed" You admitted. "We had known each other for more than two years, and you seemed to trust everybody more than me. I knew some serious shit went down back then, and that there were some secrets I'd never know, and I was fine with that. But I never thought you’d leave without any explanation, only with the proof you clearly didn't trust me enough to keep your secrets" "That's the thing" He replied, finally meeting your eyes. "I knew you'd keep the secret no matter what, and that's why I didn't tell you" "I'm not following" You drew your eyebrows in confusion. "You've always said that becoming Lieutenant was your dream, you had just applied for the position and you were likely to get it" He began. "What if I had told you I was trying to protect an international terrorist from being caught, and some people found out you knew about it all along and said nothing? The last thing I wanted was to make you chose between me and you job. It wouldn’t have been fair" You stayed silent for a while, processing what he had just said. It made sense, considering Steve had acted so out of character when he left. He wouldn't be lying either, you knew that much.  The atmosphere in the car was tense as you fidgeted with your finger, still not sure of how to react to that. You took a deep breath and closed you eyes for a second. "You could have told me that instead of leaving without a word" You whispered. "I know" He acknowledged. "I was an idiot, and I'm sorry" "I..." You hesitated, but after that apology it was hard to back track. "I accept your apology. Thank you for explaining" "Thank you, (Y/N). It means the world to me" He said with relief in his voice. You nodded and opened the door, setting your foot on the pavement of your apartment building. But you weren't fully out that he spoke again. "Do you think there's any hope for us?" You bit your lip hard as you wished he hadn't spoken. You turned toward him and gave him a thin lipped smile that didn't reach your eyes.  "Goodnight Steve"

•••

Tag list:

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@thehabssuck-getoverit @potato-with-possible-standards @ fortisetgloriosusinarduis

[jstiin]

◜iii. happy ( 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ) new years !

( featuring the musical stylings of myself & the one, the only ... @shcwnmcnds ! )

shawn: “3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEAR !” was all shawn heard as he launched his weakened body into the passenger seat. the younger boys heart was racing as he tried to grip onto the seatbelt to adjust himself. something was wrong. it had to be. but he had done the whole cocaine and alcohol mixture times before. it wasn’t like it became any different now, right ? sure, he had been partying hard and day after day- plus with ariana in dubai it made him want to go even harder. he had no one to answer to when he got back in his bed. “man... this isn’t feeling so right.” he mumbled, as he finally got himself correctly into the seat. “let’s just get back to the hotel, alright ?”

justin: the start of a new year brought justin’s necessity for drugs to an ultimate high, especially with all the drama lingering around the manhattan streets. every relationship justin possessed was slowly diminishing before his eyes because of his actions, but that wasn’t going to change. the party was never going to end. if anything, the new year signified the true beginning of his tirade as the resident ‘ party master. ’ although, in this moment, he was too partied out to even be considered the designated driver. but with shawn already too much in his head, justin had to get them out of there. and quickly, too. “alright, man, just keep your shit together n’ we’ll be there in no time. these are custom fuckin’ seats, and vomit on ‘em will not do either of us any justice. just breathe.”

shawn: shawn was in love with ariana but was he going to tell her that ? no. because if he hurt himself with the shit he was getting into— she couldn’t know that he loved her. it would only hurt her more. hearing justin’s voice, at this point he was going in and out of consciousness. “uh huh...” was all he mumbled before it was all pitch black. in an instant he couldn’t hear the road anymore, his surroundings were just blank. this was all too similar to what he experienced a year ago, except then he wanted to kill himself. after being in and out of sleep for a few minutes, an intense pressure came from his stomach, causing his mouth to peel open as vomit spilled onto the males black shirt and pants.

justin: silence indicated to justin that shawn was sleeping, finally, and could possibly get out of his hair. it was bad enough that the young male took one /too/ many drinks, and having shawn as the backseat driver wasn’t helping the situation. his entire life was slowly falling to pieces before his eyes, and who was to blame ? himself. every choice made dug him into a deeper and deeper hole, losing another individual shortly after. his thoughts were out the window, where he wanted to throw shawn, directly after witnessing the other’s betrayal. “dude, i just fuckin’ said ─” he started, using one hand to rummage for napkins, “forget it, dammit.” justin tried his best to assist the other male in any way possible, the car making occasional swerves in the process.

shawn: shawn had probably been sleep for about 10 minutes as the vomit was spewing out of his mouth. finally regaining some sense of consciousness, shawn lifted his head at the sound of a cop car trailing behind him. the amount of vomit on his chest didn’t even concern him as he slowly rotated his head towards justin. “man... man are we getting pulled over ?” pausing, it suddenly hit the younger man that they were currently carrying cocaine in the car and on them. “dude... we’re fucking screwed.”

justin: this was literally turning into a life or death situation for justin, and there was no way justin would allow shawn to experience any inch of it. he took a minute to face the cold, hard facts, shawn had the rest of his life to live while justin already had his time. “dude, listen to me,” he took a quick look in his rearview mirror to the cop car that was trailing behind him, “i need you to give me whatever the fuck you have on you. right now. like, right fuckin’ now !” his head shifted from the other male to the lane beside him, slowly beginning to come to a halt to face his fate.

shawn: justin had been through a shit load within the last few months, shawn would never willingly leave him in the dark. this whole car was a bad scene, but shawn didn’t have the strength to even clean himself up. his heart was racing and his health was clearly at a high risk. it was obvious now, that he was overdosing. “no... you’re not taking the fall for something i took part in too.” he said in a faint voice, his left hand resting on the pants pocket that the remaining cocaine was put in. at this point, he didn’t care if they were getting pulled over. deep inside, he knew he needed a hospital. “just... pull over, man.”

justin: reality was slowly sinking in for justin since the severity of the situation just escalated, to unseen heights, and it wasn’t looking pretty for either of them. the voices of angered individuals ( gregg, ariana, kendall to name a few ) would completely disown justin if shawn got into any trouble. legal trouble was one thing, but shawn not looking too good was an entirely different story. “shawn,” justin called out, desperately wishing the male would cooperate, “shut the fuck up and give it to me !” he pounded on the steering wheel before doing the deed himself, reaching over the armrest to obtain the remaining drugs. the car slowly came to a halt, leaving justin to turn his attention to his male companion for what he thought would be the last time. “sorry i got you into this fuckin’ mess, shawn,” taking his hand for a light squeeze, a bit of tenderness lurking in his voice, “ ─── you’re gonna be alright, okay ?”

shawn: the officers voice was stern and a bit concerned once he saw what a mess shawn was. it seemed like it was only moments before he was getting dragged out of the car, once again unconscious & unable to respond. the smell of the ambulance became all too familiar as he tried his best to wake back up— but all of his energy was gone. justin was gone. shawn’s pockets were empty and now he looked like the victim that got pulled into it all too fast. when that wasn’t the case, both him and justin were just trying to get all of the bad shit out of their heads for a few nights. here shawn was, about to get his stomach pumped during the new year, and his brother was taking all the blame. happy fucking new year.

justin: the same scenario ultimately had two different endings, and it was scary to figure out who had the worst night. pure aggregation stemmed from the officer’s mouth as he interrogated the blonde, who desperately tried to get his act together before they could suspect anything. the request of a quick search due the reeking smell of booze allowed a pat, and the fourth pat brought up a whole new topic. b u s t e d. the sound of justin pleading full responsibility for his actions could be heard while shawn was being taken away in the ambulance, the sight of justin wiping a tear from his cheek could be seen in the distance. arms were forced behind his back as handcuffs hugged his wrists, instantly being dragged into the back of the cop car. what a brilliant way to start off the year.

[real-life-pine-tree]

Arc-V Aftermath: Butterfly Connections (16/26)

When all is said and done, things have quickly recovered in the four dimensions. But when weird things start happening, the Yu-Salad Boys and the Bracelet Girls quickly realize they have some loose ends to fix. Co-written with @violetganache42​.

WARNING: Dub names will be featured in the story.

With the Team Duel Tournament slowly inching closer to its grand day, all twelve participating teams have been working extremely hard to prepare themselves for the big day. Team Noble, on the other hand, hasn't been fairing well recently. Lulu was still healing from her back surgery, anxiously and desperately waiting for the day she makes a full recovery, preferably before the tournament starts. Shay made plans to have Yugo check his prosthetic leg; his parents gave him a day off to make sure it gets repaired, so he decided to use it tomorrow. Yuto was also deducing from a list of XYZ Duelists which one will be the team's stand-in. With all three members forced to face their own problems, they may not be fully prepared to compete.

At the moment, Yuto was getting frustrated. He tried to find good XYZ Duelists to see if any of them would make a good stand-in, but due to Shay and Lulu coming from a high background, anyone he met became too scared, fearing their cards weren't on the same level as the Obsidian siblings. So right now, things weren't looking good for him.

As a breather, he decided to go somewhere to take his mind off of this and relax. Maybe the local museum the Yu-Salad went to? At this point, he needed anything to lower his frustration and focus on something else for a little while, so the museum may be the best place to go.

At the museum, Yuto was still a bit upset. His best friend and girlfriend were counting on him to find a stand-in, but he couldn't. He didn't want his team to get disqualified, but what could he do?

Frustrated, Yuto pounded his fist against a display case. "I wish there was a way to fix this," he confessed out loud, leaning his head against the display case. "I wish I could be helpful to my team. I wish..." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I wish things were back to normal!"

"You seem rather distressed."

Yuto heard an adult female voice and turned around to see where it came from. He noticed a tan-skinned, blue-eyed woman with straight black hair that went below her shoulder and two locks wrapped in gold rings, stopping past her neck. She also had a gold head wear around her head that had an emerald on the front of her forehead. She wore a white, ankle-length dress that partially exposed her shoulders, having black patterns around the neck and rims of the sleeves, and a pair of white flats. She even had some sort of golden Egyptian necklace. Who was this woman? Is she one of the museum's employees or was she visiting as well?

"Sorry," Yuto said, stepping away from the display case. "I have a lot on my mind. I'm-"

"You are Yuto Osaku," the woman said. "The fragment of Zarc Nightstone who is loving and compassionate."

Yuto was a bit baffled. "How...?"

"My apologies," the woman said. "I have heard about you and your other selves from the news. You four are taking part in an upcoming tournament, correct?"

Yuto nodded his head, still left a bit speechless on how she easily knew who he was. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Ishizu Ishtar," the woman answered. "I serve as the museum's curator. I recall seeing your friend, Yuya Sakaki, a while ago in this very room."

He also remembered that moment as well. He explained to Ishizu that after Yuya was revived, he, Yugo, and Yuri were temporarily fused into the tomato-haired teen's body, while also indicating about how he went on a tour of Paradise City and was shown the Egyptian exhibit.

"I see," Ishizu said. "So why have you come to visit?"

"It's my team," Yuto answered. "The tournament is in a few days and I'm worried my teammates won't be able to recover."

"Because of the injuries they received from the Invasion?" Ishizu asked.

Yuto looked anguished when he heard that, but it was true. He told her about Lulu receiving a huge scar on her back, ended up with temporary spinal plates, and recently got surgery to have them removed. As for Shay, he had his left leg amputated and replaced with a robotic prosthetic and how it's been on the fritz. As a result, he needs to find a stand-in for their team.

"I cannot blame them," Ishizu said. "Your best friend and girlfriend had grown up in an elite environment. They had to learn to adapt to harsh conditions. You, on the other hand, were born a commoner, thus the only injury you received was a light scar on your right ear."

Okay, her knowing who he was and what he was doing was one thing, but how does she even recognize their hardships like it was nothing? Was she psychic or something? Did she witness these events as well?

"How did you know...?" Yuto asked.

"I can see your scar hidden underneath your hair," Ishizu explained. "I have learned to pay attention to every detail, even the sorrow in your eyes."

Dang, she was extremely good at deduction. His scar was small and barely noticeable, so having someone with a keen eye and an observing mindset was pretty impressive.

"I can also tell you are nervous about other things," Ishizu continued. "While a recent formal party assured you that your girlfriend genuinely loves you, you are worried it might not last very long since you two met very recently compared to your other selves. You are also concerned about her not being able to walk again."

Maybe she was a little too good at observation. How did she even know what he was going through? Yeah, he had met Lulu several months ago and has grown to love her, but with recent complications, he kept finding himself questioning their relationship, even wondering if they would get married at all. He even felt bad about the spontaneous proposal when he first visited her. Has Ishizu been visiting the hospital for the past few weeks? He obviously doesn't recall seeing her there, so this situation became a bit more baffling.

"I can assure you that everything will work out," Ishizu said, lightly touching her necklace. "As long as you remain loyal and kind, you will have a bright future with her."

The necklace began to glow and flashed a bright light, blinding Yuto. In a matter of seconds, he regained his vision to find himself in a church, with a lot of people sitting down. At first, he wasn't sure what was going on and who these people were until he saw someone that looked like him and was wearing a suit. Is that his adult self?

"Is that...me?" Yuto asked.

There was no denying that this person was an older Yuto, but what was going on and why was he formally dressed up like that? He heard the sound of the church's double doors opening and turned to see who it was. There was no doubt it was a bride, but he immediately spotted the long, dark purple hair. It was Lulu, and she was…standing? She began to walk down towards the altar as the person played music on the organ. But how is that possible? Fonda said there was a high chance of her not walking and she had to be in a wheelchair.

"This is your future, Yuto Osaku," Izhizu explained. "You will live a long and happy life with your girlfriend. While it is true that you only met months ago, the love between you two is unbreakable."

Based on what she said, does that mean he and Lulu will get married? According to the vision, it seemed most likely; even though voices weren't heard from the people at the church, it was clearly a remarkable ceremony. He couldn't believe that this was actually his future.

"I do."

"I do."

Yuto witnessed the priest declaring his and Lulu's future selves husband and wife before the two embraced in a kiss, leaving their friends and families overjoyed and some with tears of joy. He was left nonplussed yet relieved and also a bit excited that this was the future that Ishizu predicted.

"So that's my future," Yuto said as the vision ended. "I really am going to marry Lulu. How can I make that vision come true?"

"While I cannot tell you everything, I can tell you two things," Ishizu answered. "First of all, speak to the lilac-haired girl who still believes in fairytales. She will be happy to act as your team's stand-in. Secondly, the next time you see Yugi Muto, tell him to come to this museum. I wish to talk to him about something that should have occurred years ago."

The lilac-haired girl who still believes in fairytales… Is she referring to Sarah Glitters? Does she know she'll be a perfect backup member of Team Noble? It sure sounds like it. Sarah and Lulu were great friends, so she actually may be the perfect choice for her to fill in the Lyrilusc user's place. Also, who was Yugi Muto? His name sounds familiar; although Yuto was within Yuya's merging mind, he may have had an idea of what his appearance was, but he might need to bring Yuya along to help find him just in case.

"Thank you," Yuto said. But he was about to leave the museum when Ishizu placed her hand on his shoulder.

"There is one last thing I must tell you," Ishizu said. "Lono is very proud of what you have done."

Yuto raised both eyebrows in astonishment. All this time, he believed he never got to fulfill his mother's last words and had let her down. Seeing where he currently was, from helping Yuya end the War to getting a job at ObsidianCorp, he realized Lono has always been proud of his achievements. He thanked Ishizu again for the kind words before leaving the museum to fulfill the two things that needed to be done. Since there was no school today, he can rule out Heartland Duel School as one of the places to look, but where was Sarah? If he had his Duel Disk with him, he could contact her, but he had the search for her the old-fashioned way.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sarah was visiting Lulu, who was still recovering from her surgery. She was healing at a steady pace, but she was uncertain if her back would be fully healed before the tournament begins.

"Shay is going to get his leg checked tomorrow," Sarah informed. "He'll still be able to take part in the tournament."

"I hope I can recover by then," Lulu sadly said. "My family chose to sponsor for the tournament to help improve our fortune. Being on that field and representing the Obsidian name is important."

"I know," Sarah said, gently squeezing Lulu's hand. "I might not understand what you're going through, but you have my full support."

Sarah then asked how Yuto's been doing during the past few weeks and learned that he was struggling with finding a stand-in for Team Noble in case Lulu doesn't heal in time. He's requested as many Duelists as possible in the conglomerate of Domino City, New Domino City, Heartland, and Paradise City, but so far he had no luck. Right now, he was trying to de-stress for a while before resuming with his objective.

"Poor guy," Sarah said, sounding concerned. "The stress must be getting to him."

Just then, approaching footsteps were heard from outside of Lulu's recovery room. As they got closer, a figure appeared in front of the room. It was Yuto; "speak of the devil", as the old saying goes. Lulu and Sarah were both glad to see him; the dark purple-haired girl wished she could give him a hug if it weren't for her spinal scars. Nonetheless, the girls mentioned that they were talking about him and were worried if he was going to be alright. It was almost as if his instincts felt two people discussing a topic regarding him.

"Hi Yuto," Sarah said. "What brings you here?"

"Sarah, I'm so glad I found you," Yuto said. "Would you like to be Team Noble's stand-in?"

That was a question Sarah didn't expect to hear. He must've asked hundreds—or even thousands—of Duelists the same request, but it never occurred to him to ask her? Regardless, she happily responded that she would; since she rarely duels, this was an opportunity for her to use her Fairy Tails again. She was also curious as to why Yuto suddenly asked her with only a few days left until the first day of the tournament.

"Why me?" Sarah asked.

"I remember seeing your strategies in the dueling club," Yuto answered. "Your Fairy Tail deck is amazing and I want everyone to see them in action."

She recalled those rare moments when she did duel a few times in the dueling club. She worked as hard as she could to perfect her strategies ever since the day she first got her Fairy Tails. With her regained confidence during Yuya's time in the XYZ Dimension, she will be a prefect backup player for her team, especially helping out her friend win the tournament and represent the Obsidian family.

"Okay," Sarah said. "I'll do it."

"Great!" Yuto exclaimed, sounding too happy. "Now can anyone send a message to Yuya? I need him to locate someone named Yugi Muto."

The two girls' eyes widened when Yuto said Yugi's name. Sarah has never heard of him before, but he and Lulu both explained that their Pendulum counterparts met him when they went to the Fusion Dimension to have Leo initiate the separation procedure early due to the sudden mind merge. They both have an idea of what he looks like, but Yuya and Zuzu know him better than the XYZ duo, so that was why the tomato-haired teen needed to be notified. Fortunately, the spectacled girl brought her Duel Disk with her and said she'll message Yuya to help Yuto find Yugi.

"Thanks Sarah," Yuto said. "This is what Yuya needs to know."

Meanwhile, at the Sakaki residence, Yuya was skimming through his Performapal, Odd-Eyes, and Magician cards, memorizing the strategies he, Zuzu, and Gong came up with. They made great progress with their training, especially considering the fact that he and his pink-haired girlfriend have both excelled in using their Skills, both in and out of a duel. He stopped scanning through his deck to see Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon and softly smiled while his eyes grew determined. They will soon be ready to start bringing smiles to the audience now that everything is officially peaceful. His deep thinking was cut off when a notification alarm sounded from his Duel Disk. He went to his nightstand and grabbed the Duel Disk to see who was messaging him.

Yuya's eyes widened as he read the message. "Someone wants to speak to Yugi at the museum?" he mused. "But why?"

Whatever was going on, it was clear Yuto needed his help in locating him. He replied to the text, asking Sarah where his XYZ counterpart is and where they should meet up. After clicking "Send", he organized his cards and placed them back into his Duel Disk, then he started putting his shoes on.

"Mom, I'm heading over to meet up with Yuto!" Yuya called out.

Yoko replied that he should make sure he returns before dinner, with her son saying that he will upon leaving his bedroom, bringing his Duel Disk with him to see if Sarah responded. Back at the hospital, she received Yuya's message, saying he's on his way, where Yuto is, and if they should meet up somewhere.

"How about telling Yuya to meet him at that small game shop?" Lulu suggested. "Celina said it originated from the Fusion Dimension."

"Small game shop...?" Sarah asked. "You mean Kame Game Shop?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Lulu answered.

As Sarah responded to Yuya's text, Yuto thought that was an interesting place to meet up. He figured that's where Yugi lives, but since all eight counterparts, especially Yuya and Zuzu, were frantically finding a way to get to Duel Academy and the Pendulum duo conveniently stopped by at Kame Game Shop, he might need to ask someone in the Fusion Dimension for directions. With this in mind, he made his decision to head to the Domino City portion of the mashed-up unnamed city immediately; after all, Ishizu most likely had something important to say to the tri-color-haired man.

"Ishizu sounded a bit concerned when she told me she needed to speak to Yugi," Yuto recalled. "I hope what she needs to tell him is important."

Before Yuto left the hospital, he quickly explained to the girls that Ishizu was the museum's curator who also knew about Zarc, Ray, and their reincarnations from the news, just to be sure they weren't confused. He said he'll explain more when he returns with the Obsidians, resulting in Lulu nodding her head and saying she'll see him later and Sarah stating she's looking forward to the tournament. Yuto waved goodbye as he headed down the hall towards the elevator. With a click of the "Floor 1" button, it brought him down to the main lobby at a steady pace. He departed through the automatic doors and proceeded to run down the sidewalk to meet up with his cousin.

Some time later, Yuto arrived at the Domino City section of the city; at one point, he chose to take the bus because it was most likely a far walk to there from the Paradise City section now that all four dimensions merged back into one. After being dropped off at one of the bus stops, he had to find someone to ask for directions to Kame Game Shop. He had a feeling of what path Yuya and Zuzu took to get there, but he wanted to be sure. He began running again through the streets of the Domino City section to look for the first person he sees.

"Excuse me?" Yuto asked a brown-haired teen wearing a green hoodie. "Where's Kame Game Shop from here?"

"Right down the block," the teen answered, speaking in a gruff tone.

Yuto thanked the teen as he made his way down the block. He wasn't kidding because the closer Phantom Knight user got to the game shop, the easier it was to recognize Yuya. Then again, it isn't hard to lose him due to his tomato-shaped haircut, Odd-Eyed-colored irises, his goggles with a light blue star on the right lens, and his main appearance in general. It's like finding a needle in a haystack…except the needle sticks out like a sore thumb.

"Hey Yuto," Yuya said, happy to see his cousin. "This is Kame Game Shop."

"Great," Yuto said, relieved. "Now we just have to find this Yugi person."

"Yeah... About that..." Yuya said as he and Yuto entered the shop.

Their search was going to be the shortest they ever went on because little does Yuto know is that Yugi lives and works there. Lately the shop has been a hit because he was selling vintage cards, which have become a popular trend throughout the city; how else was Zuzu able to obtain a vintage Polymerization card for Rin?

"Welcome to Kame Game Shop," Yugi said. "How may I- Hey there, Yuya. Long time, no see."

"Thanks Yugi," Yuya happily said. "Glad to see you too."

Not long after the Original Dimension returned, Yugi managed to keep in touch with his high school friends. He has also gotten much happier as his eyes are more open and no longer glazed. He noticed the eggplant-haired teen that looked very similar to Yuya although he was wearing glasses.

"I think I saw you before," Yugi said. "You're Yuto Osaku."

"Correct," Yuto answered. "I'm Yuya's cousin."

"Cousin?" Yugi asked. "Is that what you interdimensional counterparts are calling each other?"

"No, just me and Yuto," Yuya explained. "Turns out our moms are sisters."

Yugi was surprised to hear this revelation; he never thought those two were actually related. He was also informed about how their mothers were also residents of the Original Dimension before the split occurred. Speaking of past events, he shared his mournful words to Yuto about what happened to Lono since he now had an understanding of the Interdimensional War. He thanked the tri-color-haired man for his sympathy and explained how he, the Obsidians, and the Sakakis attended a quick, private funeral because he never had time to mourn her death until a few weeks ago. Naturally, Yugi understood what Yuto meant by that. With side talks done with, he asked why the two cousins stopped by.

"Ishizu Ishtar, the museum's curator, wants to speak to you," Yuto answered. "She didn't say why, but that I had to bring you to her."

Yuto also noted that she was a bit concerned about what she wants to say and it was also really important. He assumed it probably had something to do with the Egyptian exhibit the Yu-Salad checked out a while ago since he visited there earlier. Yugi was intrigued by this exhibit Yuto mentioned; he's heard of it from a few people, but he never got a chance to see it for himself because of him working.

"Wait..." Yugi realized. "How did she know my name?"

"I'm not sure," Yuto answered. "But my cousin and I better come with you just in case."

"Huh?! How did I get wrapped-up in this?!" Yuya asked.

Yuto told Yuya that something this important might have a possibility of them also being involved, so it never hurts to tag along and find out for themselves. Besides, Yugi has never been to that part of the city ever since Zarc's attack and the dimensional split, and the two are the only ones that can help bring him to the museum since they know how to get there from here.

"You are right about us being involved," Yuya said. "Who knows what else Zarc did when he was whole."

The Yu-trio all agreed to head over to the museum immediately, with Yugi hanging up a sign on the door saying what time he'll be back. As they walked down the street, Yuto remarked on how he took the bus to meet up with his cousin, which means they'll be heading towards the same bus stop that dropped him off. In all honesty, it definitely beats running several miles to Kame Game Shop in Yuya's opinion, even if the run was beneficial for his health. The three had already passed the spot where the brown-haired teen was; he probably went off somewhere, trying to find his insect-loving rival. A few minutes later, they reached the bus stop and waited for the next bus to take them to the Paradise City section.

During the bus ride, Yuto noticed Yugi was inspecting him. "Can I help you?" the eggplant-haired teen asked.

"You feel...familiar for some reason," Yugi confessed. "Almost like something is missing."

Yuto wondered what Yugi means and why he said something like that. Is he trying to remember an event or a specific person; well, he knows who Zarc was, what he did, and the aftermath of his onslaught, so it obviously couldn't be that. Ruling that out still left an igniting question: what quality does Yuto possess that felt familiar to their companion?

"How come?" Yuto asked.

"Seeing you seems to trigger a voice calling out to me," Yugi answered. "An ancient, powerful voice."

An ancient, powerful voice? Why would Yuto trigger it? Was it because he has something in common with it? Was his knightly, noble, loyal, and determined demeanor similar to it? Whatever the case was, it made him have more questions than answers. Hopefully, their conversation with Ishizu can help clarify things.

Yuya noticed his cousin's confused expression. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm sure this Ishizu woman has a good explanation."

Yuto looked at Yuya when he spoke, only to have his face change into a more "I hope so, too" expression. He wondered if this parallel between him and the voice is connected to what the museum's curator had to say. During that time, the bus dropped him, his cousin, and Yugi off at one of the bus stops in the Paradise City section. Coincidentally, it was the same bus stop that Yuto was at. Now they just need to figure out how to get to the museum.

"This area of the city isn't that different from Paradise City," Yuya said. "I know where the museum is from here."

Yuya led the way as the two headed downtown to the museum. As they walked, Yugi looked on his left and right to see the city section's different views. As a citizen of the Original Dimension who grew up in its Fusion reincarnation, he has never been to Yuya's hometown (at least, something very similar to it), so this was all new to him. The buildings were constructed in a way that greatly contradicted how his hometown was structured; it actually felt more like a city. Their stroll through the downtown portion left him awestruck; he couldn't believe how beautiful it appeared. Once the talk with Ishizu was done, he may have to schedule a day to visit the Paradise City section.

Pretty soon, the Yu-trio arrived at the museum. They climbed up some set of stairs before entering through the double doors. Inside the building, Yuya tried to look for Ishizu, but Yuto decided to take over since he knows what she looks like and will most likely meet up with her at the Egyptian exhibit. Yugi followed the two cousins through the museum until they reached the exhibit. Sure enough, the curator was still there, waiting for them.

"Hello Yugi Muto," Ishizu said. "I'm glad you could make it."

"You must be Ishizu Ishtar," Yugi said. "What is it you wished to tell me?"

"It is rather simple," Ishizu answered. She glanced at Yuya and Yuto. "Yuya Sakaki and Yuto Osaku, you were never meant to exist."

Yuya and Yuto were both taken back by what she said, with wide eyes and dropped jaws. All this time, they weren't meant to exist? But why? What event caused them to even be around in the first place?

"You're kidding!" Yuya exclaimed as Yuto clenched his fists in anger.

"No, I am not," Ishizu explained. "And neither were the other six counterparts. It was always supposed to be Zarc Nightstone and Ray Akaba. When I heard the Millennium Puzzle was discovered, I was able to see a series of events unfold before me. It was a straightforward timeline with two separate futures: a world with Synchros and a world with XYZs." She lightly touched her necklace.

Before the Yu-trio knew it, they were blinded by a light that emanated from the necklace. They regained their vision to see an island with some sort of castle; was this part of this timeline they were told about? In the island were a bunch of Duelists scattered around the island engaging in duels, but there was one group in particular that they spotted. They noticed Yugi and Téa with their friends, which the tri-color-haired man immediately recognized as Joey Wheeler and Tristan Taylor, leaving them speechless as what they're witnessing.

"You recognize those people?" Yuya asked.

"Of course," Yugi said, sounding happy. "Those are my friends!"

"Then what is this place?" Yuto asked.

"I'm not sure," Yugi admitted. "I never went to a place like this."

They soon were whisked away into a city in Japan, where a tournament was taking place; they saw someone that looked like Yugi dueling against a mind-controlled mime wielding a powerful monster. From the looks of things, he activated Brain Control to take control of the mime's token, causing an endless loop of drawing cards that let him win the duel and obtaining a monster card called Slifer the Sky Dragon. Of course, the person controlling the mime's mind wasn't very happy, which was later revealed on who he was as the Yu-trio then saw a blimp flying over the city. In it, Joey had won a duel against a bald Egyptian man, who had just fell unconscious, resulting in the darkness taking over his adopted brother named Marik Ishtar.

This villain, dubbed Yami Marik, was the main threat for Yugi and his friends as Seto Kaiba's Battle City Tournament progressed with its finals, before getting sidetracked by five former KaibaCorp employees and a green-haired kid. They soon witnessed another duel going on, with Yugi's look-alike and Kaiba going against an Atlantean person, who was the leader of an organization and the creator of a very powerful Spell card called the Seal of Orichalcos, which was capable of capturing the loser's soul to help reawaken an ancient leviathan. They also got a glimpse at a tournament being held in KaibaLand somewhere in America, where a pink-haired teen from Kaiba's past released a virus that removed a lot of his rival company's files. Finally, they saw a Shadow RPG between the Yugi look-alike and a sinister white-haired thief; as it turns out, the two were spirits from Ancient Egypt and a quest to regain the pharaoh's lost memories, leading to a Ceremonial Battle between Yugi and his other self, which was revealed to be Atem.

With that, another bright light flashed in front of Yuya, Yuto, and the adult Yugi, bringing them back to the museum and leaving them stunned at the set of events that should have unfolded years ago and how it affected the future.

"Those events led to many bright futures," Ishizu continued. "And many more Duelists became great heroes, including a bi teen named Jaden Yuki, a motorcyclist named Yusei Fudo, and a soon-to-be explorer named Yuma Tsukamo. If it wasn't for you, Yugi Muto, those Duelists wouldn't have been inspired."

"But what happened that caused that to change?" Yuya asked. "And what does this have to do with me and my cousin?"

Ishizu brought the three over to the golden box that supposedly contained the ancient puzzle. "It was when Solomon Muto donated the Millennium Puzzle to the museum," she answered.

"My grandpa?" Yugi asked. "I don't remember him having a puzzle."

"You were very young when it happened," Ishizu explained. "Solomon heard about the explorers who died trying to find the Puzzle, so when he obtained it, he feared for your life if you were to accidentally come across it. He thought donating it to the museum would keep you safe."

Yugi leaned forward to read what the hieroglyphics said in the box, which said, "The one who solves me shall gain the powers and knowledge of darkness…" He understood that his grandpa did this for his safety, but he was in disbelief that the Millennium Puzzle never made him into the more confident person that he saw his younger self become. The explorers must have died because they may not have been considered worthy of owning the Puzzle. He stared at the box containing the pieces of one of the Millennium Items, with a sad look on his eyes. He muttered out Atem's name because the two would have been amazing partners, much like brothers.

"So what lead to this timeline?" Yuto asked.

"In the original timeline, Seto Kaiba had scheduled to meet up with Leo Akaba in hopes of improving Duel Monsters," Ishizu answered. "But due to complications, the meeting was canceled."

"What complications?" Yugi asked.

"Your grandfather's Blue-Eyes White Dragon," Ishizu explained.

Yugi was surprised. "But why?" he asked. "That card is still in the shop. I never took it out of the box grandpa put it in because of how much it meant to him."

"Then how about I show you instead?" Ishizu replied, her necklace glowing once more.

The trio was then brought to a vision of where he and his high school friends were at Kame Game Shop when Kaiba showed up. He wanted to have Solomon's Blue-Eyes White Dragon because there were only four in existence, but despite the offer of a suitcase of Duel Monsters, Solomon rejected the offer because of the connection he had with it. Later, the tri-color-haired man was seen the aftermath of what happened. He and his friends were mad at Kaiba for hurting Solomon after winning the duel against him. Just then, he took out a Blue-Eyes White Dragon card from his pants pocket.

"And look at the sweet prize I won," Kaiba said as he ripped the card in half, leaving everyone shocked at what he did.

"Grandpa's most treasured card!" the teenage Yugi exclaimed in total incredulity. His alternate adult self also watched as the events unfolded, much to his initial dismay.

"Why are you showing me this?!" Yugi asked Ishizu, tears forming from his eyes.

"Wait, I think there's more," Yuya said. But Yuto remained quiet, almost as if he was thinking about something.

The three saw teenage Yugi being handed the deck Solomon used, with the latter reminding his grandson to believe in the heart of the cards. As Joey, Tristan, and Téa escorted his grandfather to the hospital, the Millennium Puzzle started to glow; it looked like he was transforming.

In a flash of bright light, standing in Yugi's place was Atem, under the alias of Yami Yugi prior to recovering his memories. This left Kaiba startled at the transformation while the Yu-trio were more amazed. Well...almost.

Yuya had to cover his mouth to muffle a laugh. "What?" Yuto asked.

"Wow, Yugi," Yuya said. "Are you some kind of magical girl in this timeline?"

Yugi blushed out of embarrassment; there was no way he would be considered a magical girl—or a magical boy, technically speaking—in that timeline. ...Could he? He brushed off the thought as he, Yuya, and Yuto witnessed Kaiba and Atem's first duel; the rules to Duel Monsters were a bit different at that time before Battle City, so the cousins were a little confused. Regardless, they watched as the resurrected pharaoh was backed into a corner now that his opponent had summoned his three Blue-Eyes White Dragon, leaving them worried. Fortunately, their worries subsided when a victory move was about to be made that would construct the path to Yugi's legacy.

"Draw your last pathetic card so I can end this, Yugi," Kaiba said, sounding a bit impatient.

"My grandpa has no pathetic cards," Atem said. "But he does have..." He revealed a card. "The unstoppable Exodia."

Yuya was greatly confused. "Exodia...?" he asked. "Never heard of that card..."

"Not one card," Yugi explained. "Five."

He explained that there are five cards that create Exodia the Forbidden One: two arms, two legs, and a head. If you have all five of them in your hand, you automatically win the duel. Yuya and Yuto were dumbfounded at the fact that a monster existed with such an unbeatable effect. One might say it was basically invincible.

"That sounds a bit unfair," Yuya admitted.

"I guess the rules really were different back then," Yuto speculated, sounding a bit sad as his fists were clenched.

He was right; Duel Monsters had completely different rules when it was becoming popular. Back then, Duelists had 2000 LP and can summon high level monsters without tributing. At the same time, however, he couldn't stop thinking about what Ishizu said earlier. If he was never meant to exist, then what was the point of having a happy future with Lulu?

As the vision continued, Atem had just places all five Exodia cards in the monster zones. An aquamarine star appeared on the duel field, with arms and legs coming out of it before revealing a head and out came the Forbidden One. Kaiba stood there in fear as the winning move was about to be declared.

"Exodia, obliterate!" yelled out Atem.

With that, the unstoppable monster blasted away the three Blue-Eyes White Dragons as Kaiba screamed, bringing his LP down to 0. Off in the distance, his younger brother Mokuba was having a hard time comprehending that his older brother just lost a duel.

"This can't be right..." Yugi said. "In my timeline, Kaiba was unbeatable. How could I...?"

"There's more," Ishizu spoke, her voice heard inside their heads.

Yugi, Yuya, and Yuto continued watching to see what she means. They noticed a symbol appearing on Atem's forehead that resembled the eye on the Millennium Puzzle.

"Mind Crush!"

With the Punishment Game given to Kaiba, he fell to his knees, opening a gate that would lead him to become Yugi's greatest rival.

Meanwhile, at Leo Corporation…

"Mr. Akaba, I just received a call from KaibaCorp," an employee said. "Seto Kaiba has canceled the meeting due to suddenly falling ill."

"I see..." Leo said. He let out a sad sigh. "I hope he recovers. I wanted to see if he could help me add mass to the current Solid Vision technology."

A bright light flashed in front of Yugi, Yuya, and Yuto's eyes yet again, bringing them back to the museum with Ishizu standing not too far away from the display case. They were all very confused, especially, the cousins, on why it abruptly cut over to Leo Corporation.

"On that day, Action Duels were never developed," Ishizu explained. "Leo Corporation was soon forgotten as KaibaCorp became successful. But all was not lost. During the events of Battle City, Ray Akaba met a boy named Michael Lindonson, and over time the two became friends, which soon blossomed into romance and eventually became marriage."

That name struck a cord with Yuya and Yuto. "That must have been Zarc's real name," Yuya realized.

"Correct," Ishizu said. "But without that fixed point, Seto Kaiba was able to have his meeting with Leo, allowing Action Duels to trend. But because Seto first demonstrated Action Duels through rather violent strategies, that became the new trend, leading to Zarc Nightstone destroying the world."

Yugi definitely remembered that part because he was there when the attack happened. Prior to the end of the world, he had also heard the news of Kaiba and Leo releasing Action Duels to the public. Although they were enjoyable to everyone, he felt something was off about them. He wasn't the kind of person who likes violence, so he preferred not to conform to the social norm, which were violent duels.

"But there is more," Ishizu continued. "Originally the Natural Energy Cards were only supposed to free Zarc from the corruption of his dragons. But by that point the timeline was severely damaged, so the four dimensions were created as an attempt to maintain reality, something that not even the Akabas were aware of. As a result, duplicates of various people from the original timeline were created among the confusion."

"Then how come I never heard of Kaiba?" Yuya asked. "If Yugi knew about him, I should have seen him in the Fusion Dimension."

"You have," Ishizu answered. "His name is Declan Akaba."

Now THAT was a twist the Yu-trio didn't expect to learn about. A highly flabbergasted Yuya was very puzzled on how that was even possible. For the Yu-Salad and Energy Girls, it was understandable, but there may be more counterparts than he thought. Confusion kept racing in his mind and felt like he was going to pass out, with Yugi and Yuto helping him not faint. The tomato-haired teen then barely managed to regain his composure.

"But I saw Kaiba from those visions!" Yuya pointed out. "He looks nothing like Declan!"

"Correct," Ishizu said. "But when the four dimensions were created, Seto Kaiba was erased from existence, resulting in Declan Akaba being created to take his place. I am not sure why that occurred, but I suspect it was reincarnation."

Yuya felt like he needed time to process what he was discovering so far while Yuto was still saddened about how he was never meant to have a happy future after all. There were so many pros and cons to the two differing timelines that they don't know if them existing really was pointless. They weren't having suicidal thoughts, don't worry; they were just wondering what was the point of the Interdimensional War if Yugi was destined to have the Millennium Puzzle.

"So you're saying this is all because someone decided to protect his grandson?" Yuto asked, shaking in rage. "IT'S ALL HIS FAULT?"

Yuya tried to comfort his cousin, but Yugi wasn't sure if it was a good idea at the moment and recommended waiting until Yuto calmed down a bit. At the same time, Ishizu was wasn't expecting the sudden mood change from the eggplant-haired teen.

"You said I was going to have a happy future with my girlfriend!" Yuto told Ishizu. "Why did you show me that vision if I wasn't supposed to exist?!"

Ishizu honestly wasn't sure how to respond the situation, but she did feel bad about Yuto learning this discovery. The best she could do right now is to try and help him relax. "I only wanted you to bring Yugi Muto to the museum," she said. "You and your cousin were never meant to hear this."

"But I'm here!" Yuto exclaimed, tears coming from his eyes due to conflicting emotions. "What am I?! Why was I created?!"

Ishizu was silent for a few seconds, but she ultimately spoke. "You and the other counterparts were originally supposed to recreate the four original heroes and their love interests," she explained. "It was the only way to prevent the timeline from collapsing, but Zarc quickly realized what had happened, so he vowed to not let his legacy be forgotten."

With tears still pouring from his eyes, Yuto slowly began to understand the true reasoning behind the Yu-Salad's Awakenings. They were signs of Zarc wanting to reawaken his legacy, which explained the dark aura that sometimes emitted from Yuya and Yuri. The darkness was that desire to pick up where he left off. To continue his reign of terror all across the dimensions. To bring fear to everyone with only one single purpose: winning.

"Then that's all I am," Yuto realized, looking at his clenched fist. "Nothing more than a puppet for someone else's enjoyment."

"Yuto..." Yuya said, sounding concerned.

Suddenly, Yuto took off his Duel Disk and gave it to Yuya. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't take part in the tournament." Then before his cousin could say anything else, he ran out of the museum, heartbroken with the revelation.

Yuya, Yugi, and Ishizu were all concerned about Yuto and how what he has discovered will affect him. They should take action as quickly as possible, but they weren't sure how. The tomato-haired teen looked down at the Duel Disk his cousin gave him. As a lonely and timid child, he had no interests in Duel Monsters and only had his Dark Rebellion XYZ Dragon, which led him to playing the card game. Does that mean Yuto was thinking about not dueling anymore? The thought of it made Yuya upset.

"I better speak to Shay about this," Yuya said, clutching his cousin's Duel Disk. "I can't stand seeing Yuto this upset."