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chaozsilhouette · 4 years ago

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A Revealing Performance

My rendition for the Shadow Play in @winterpower98's Swap Au.

It was supposed to be a simple thing, then it sort of spiraled into this whole deal. For the effects of the Shadow Lantern, I drew some inspiration from her Cursed Au as I never thought simply using her friends was cruel enough for the Monkey Tyrant.

It serves to show just how far Macaque has grown, but also to highlight just how monstrous he was.

_____________________________

Mei refrained from downing her bubble tea as she waited for the play to start. It had been a rough couple of weeks with Spider Queen and that creepy girl. And failing to find where Xiaotian had run off to after the misunderstanding. When Macaque sent her tickets to the local theatre, she was ashamed to think it was a trap.

Pigsy and Sandy were right. After everything that happened, she needed some serious me time. She had been too stressed.

Besides, everyone knew Macaque was a total theatre nerd. Few people knew that the star puppeteer was actually the Six-Eared Macaque himself. He would totally send her tickets from his stomping grounds as a way to unwind.

It was a shame that Tang couldn’t join them. Apparently, he finally managed to schedule a meeting with the Celestial Realm and was Taking the demon brothers to figure out a new way of sealing the Monkey Tyrant. It was also his chance to explain their little break-in during New Years. He encouraged her to have fun and if it was good, he’d join them for the next showing.

So here they were waiting for the performance to start. Although she wondered what the fake mayor was doing here. They hadn't seen him since he gave her the skeleton key. Still wasn't sure why he had it or why he gave it to her? Supposedly she was only supposed to have it for a day, but he never stopped by to pick it up.

_____________________________

Sun Wukong was a monkey of many talents, but even he had to admit Macaque was a far better storyteller and his mastery of shadows was sheer perfection. But that just made this plan all the more perfect. What better way to teach his wayward beloved’s little flower a lesson than through a trusted medium.

Obtaining a spot in the local theatre was child’s play, a little magic and they were all but begging him to take center stage. Apparently, they had been scrambling to find a new performer after their star puppeteer had to leave for a family emergency (three guesses as to who that was). And with a little glamor, a set of tickets was left at the little flower's doorstep. As far as she knew, Macaque was proud of her progress and believed she had deserved a reward for all her hard work. She was so desperate for something to go right she hardly questioned how her mentor, who was in parts unknown, managed to secure tickets for a new performer.

In his personal dressing room, Wukong delicately touched up his human disguise. Even if he was going to be hidden in his hanfu and cloak, it wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise. Applying his eye shadow with artful flair, the Monkey King took time to appreciate just how handsome he truly was no matter what form he took. Honestly, who would have thought such perfection existed?

A pulse of dark magic drew his attention to his latest partner in crime.

The Shadow Lantern gently floated before him. Its dark magic practically purring at the thought of being used. Wukong could almost laugh at his beloved’s foolishness. He was there when his darling created the lantern, when he infused his own shadows into its very foundation. Did he honestly think such a masterpiece would tolerate being left to collect dust in a cave?

Normally a magical artifact would never consider turning on its master, but after centuries of abandonment, all Wukong had to do was whisper his intentions to return Macaque to his former self to secure its loyalty. The second he first made contact, he could sense a twisted hunger writhing within and with each performance granting it the chance to feed on the life essence of the viewers…. hehe, he almost couldn’t contain himself.

Looking up at the clock, he saw it was just about time for his next performance. His clones had reported the girl’s presence along with the pig and the water demon. Strangely the one with glasses and the little matchstick was absent. No matter, he could make do with two hostages just fine.

After all, the show must go on.

_____________________________

The overhead lights dimmed, signaling the start of the play. Smoke slowly poured from beneath the floorboards, generating an air of mystery. In a flash of golden light, a tall man wearing a beautiful cloak manifested on center stage. The crowd silenced themselves at the display.

“Welcome viewers to a performance you shall never forget!” From the folds of his sleeves, an exquisite lantern floated in front of him. A mesmerizing yet familiar purple glow emanating from the center.

“Our tale tonight is one of love, companionship, and how even the strongest of bonds can be severed through the trickery of the wicked.”

In the background, the shadows twisted and grew in the lantern’s light. Carefully they formed a beautiful scene of a mountain covered in flowers and trees. Attention was gradually guided to the top, where a round stone basked in the sun.

“It all began with the birth of a King.”

The round stone broke, revealing a figure that resembled a monkey. But no, this was a monkey demon, a monkie if you would. The King journeyed down the mountain until he found a tribe of normal monkeys. The group frolicked for a while as the King established himself as the undisputed ruler of the tribe.

A large figure with an ax appeared. The monster brought down his ax upon a small collection of monkeys only to be stopped at the last second by the King. The King used his superior strength to steal the demon’s ax and used it to decapitate the intruder in a single stroke. The monkeys jumped around the King and praised his strength, but the King did not appear satisfied.

“The young King was born with great power and strength, but he sought out more to protect his people.”

The King crafted a raft and set out on a dangerous sea. The King was shown to face off against mountain gods, human warriors, and demonic sorcerers always to reign victorious but never satisfied.

“In his travels, he learned much and faced many enemies, in time his efforts were handsomely rewarded.”

The King climbed a fleet of stairs carved into a mountain to reach a humble monastery. At the top, a stern human stood, but behind him was another monkie. This one however possessed six ears.

“His quest for power led him to a Warrior of potential equaling his own. At first, neither was sure how to react to their mirror, but they quickly forged a comradery that took them far.”

The two monkies trained together, mastering new powers as they sparred.

“Their time together increased their power exponentially and as they grew stronger their feelings blossomed into something beautiful.”

The two were on a cliff overlooking the stars, slowly leaning closer to one another. Eventually, the two faced their opposite and leaned in close.

“Their fates had become intertwined. Their power was unmatched. It was then the King realized what he had been searching for all this time.”

The two shadows merged together in a complex dance until they separated into two beings once again, but not as they began. The two monkeys were now garbed in elaborate, yet practical armor and silks. The King wielded a staff and the Warrior took up a spear.

“Slowly their strength grew to where nothing could challenge them, whether in the Celestial Realm or on Earth.”

The King and Warrior were shown battling heavenly armies and powerful demons with confident smirks. Each battle resoundingly won through their combination of speed, strength, and cunning.

“But it was not enough. The King wished to ensure that he and the Warrior would be able to fight together forever and sought the power and respect needed to secure their future.”

The King took to the Heavens, where he stood before an Emperor in the most extravagant outfit, surrounded by massive guards in magical armor. The Emperor was clearly afraid as the King effortlessly toppled one guard after another, slowly approaching the throne at a steady pace.

“The King’s noble actions were viewed negatively by those who feared his ever-growing power. Eventually, a prison was crafted that could restrain the King, one that not even his beloved Warrior could destroy.”

Just before the King’s latest attack could reach the Emperor, chains wrapped around his limbs and dragged him down to Earth. With a quick flex, the chains shattered, but the King was doomed as a mountain landed on him with a seal placed at the top. The Warrior tried to pry off the seal or find some way to weaken the mountain, his acts growing more desperate with time, yet nothing worked.

“Cruelly, the King was forced to wait until he could be freed, forced to watch his precious Warrior defend their Kingdom on his own.”

With a heavy expression, the Warrior abandoned his efforts to return to the original mountain as dozens of terrifying figures surrounded the monkey inhabitants.

“Centuries passed and their love still burned strong. Soon their patience was rewarded, the King was freed but he was soon trapped in a new prison.”

A monk approached the mountain and removed the seal. The King swiftly destroyed the mountain. The monk humbly bowed to the King and offered fresh clothing and a fillet. The King garbed himself in the gifts only to collapse in agony when the monk prayed.

“Enraged the King played along until the time was right. The King and the Warrior reunited in secret and crafted a plan that would allow them to take their revenge on those that dared to separate them.”

The two monkies hugged and nuzzled each other in appreciation. A quick conversation later, the Warrior changed to resemble the King and joined the monk as the King headed into unknown lands.

“Decades later the King was ready to retrieve his love, confident in his regained strength. But when he arrived the Warrior had changed. It was as if the warrior had lost a crucial part of himself. The Warrior tried to dissuade the King from killing the monk and his companions. He even tried to convince him to give up his rage at the Celestial Realm, believing the war that would ensue wasn't worth it.”

The disguised Warrior was traveling with four colorful characters. The King dropped from the sky in front of the group, a massive crater forming around him. The Warrior regained his true form, but instead of returning to his rightful place, he blocked the King’s view of the monk.

“The King could not believe his ears. This could not be his Warrior. His love always understood his goals and knew why heaven had to pay. The King knew this change was the monk’s fault. The King moved to silence the deceiver in one quick strike only to find it blocked by the Warrior.”

The King and Warrior exchanged blows that tore mountains asunder, split the heavens, and burned down forests. The other demons following the monk tried to aid the warrior, but nothing they did seemed to slow down the King, if anything their attacks only served to further enrage him.

“The two clashed until the Warrior fled with the jailers. Time and time again they clashed, but never could the King reach the Warrior he held in his heart.”

The group fled from the battle, but time and time again the King tracked them down. The locations may have changed, but the carnage after each battle remained as world-shattering as the first. In the end, the Group managed to truly escape, and the Warrior vanished into the shadows he wielded, leaving the King alone with nothing but his memories.

“Even now the King yearns for the companionship of his beloved Warrior, knowing that at his core the Warrior craves the same.”

With the final line sending shivers down the spines of the viewers, the puppeteer vanished in a flash of light.

_____________________________

As Mei waited for her family to walk out, she couldn’t help but think about the play. It almost sounded like they were telling the tale of the Monkey King. But that was ridiculous. No one knew the Monkey King’s origins aside from minor details from the Journey to the West. Besides the narrator seemed to view the Monkey Tryant as a hero and victim. Clearly, that guy needed a reality check.

“Hello, young one.” Nearly choking on the remainder of her tea, Mei turned to see the puppeteer standing behind her with a knowing smile.

His cloak shrouding the top of his face in shadow. For a second, Mei envisioned her father Macaque. He would adore that look. Actually, didn’t she see a similar outfit in his closet on Flower Fruit Mountain? Doesn’t he wear that outfit when he’s hosting a shadow play?

Wait. How did he sneak up on her like that? Was she that out of it?

How long has she been quiet? Crap! Say something! “Oh. Ah-hello. C-can I help you with something?”

“I was about to ask the same. You do know the theatre is going to close soon right?”

“What?” Mei grabbed her phone. The digital clock flashed that it was past nine. That couldn’t be right. That meant she had been waiting for nearly an hour. But where were the others? Surely, they wouldn’t have left without telling her. Were they in trouble?

“Is everything alright?”

“Ah- yeah, everything’s fine.” It’s cool. It’s cool. She could handle this. She just needed to stay calm. “No need to worry about me. I just ah-I have a few questions about your play.”

“Yes.”

“How did you could up with the concept? I mean, no offense, but your premise could be taken the wrong way.” Maybe it was the panic over where her family had disappeared to, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being sized up.

“Hm. Have you ever heard the expression ‘History is written by the winners’?”

“Yes. It’s pretty common.” Like one of the most used sayings in the world.

“The tale was designed to show that love is one of the most cherished feelings of all and that in order to protect it, one must be willing to do anything to keep their loved ones safe. The King only wished to keep his beloved by his side, but the Warrior was misled and forced to battle against his love. That story may belong to only two, but similar tales can be experienced in anyone’s life. Tell me, can you think of a time you fought with those you cared about due to a misunderstanding?”

Without even considering it, horrible memories resurfaced. Mei arguing with MK as she tried to stop him from leaving with the newly released Monkey King. Mei forced to battle Red Son as his mind was slowly consumed by the True Fire of Samadhi. Tang lying to them about his true identity. Macaque leaving when they needed him most without saying why.

“I see you can.” The puppeteer gently guided her back into the main hall, where she took a seat on an empty bench.

“It’s nothing. I just-” She honestly didn’t know why she was pouring out her heart to stranger. Maybe she really was that exhausted. “-there’s so much going on and I’m supposed to be strong no matter what. But sometimes it hurts, just thinking about all my mistakes. Sometimes I wonder if I truly am strong. What if bringing me into this was a mistake?”

“What if it was?” That voice!

Mei turned to see Macaque garbed in a strange outfit, one that honestly reminded her of the Monkey King’s. She was confused. She had never seen him wear anything like that, he looked like the Monkey King’s twisted shadow.

And that expression! Her father Macaque had never made that face before. It looked as though he was reveling in her suffering.

“What’s the matter, little jade? Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone.” He extended a hand slowly with the intent to cradle her face. A normal gesture he would use to comfort her, but her every instinct was screaming at her to get away.

Mei jumped to her feet and pulled out her spear, aiming it right between the imposter’s eyes. “Enough games!”

Macaque stared at the spear for a second, his fiendish expression only growing more vicious. He threw his head back with a full-bodied laugh, showing how little he thought of her threat. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

In a flash of light, the Monkey Tyrant was standing before her, still wearing his puppeteer disguise. “Wow. About time. For a while, I was wondering if you’d ever figure out it was me.” His red and gold eyes carefully roved over her body, taking in every shake and fearful twitch. “Put down the spear, kid. We both know you’re not nearly good enough to scratch me with such a pitiful copy of the Dragon Blade.”

That may have been true, but she’d sooner make out with DBP in full view of Queen Iron Fan than leave herself completely open before this tyrant. “So the play was from your perspective. I always figured you were delusional, but this is a new low. Where is my family?” She all but growled, unknowingly her canines had slightly elongated in response to her rage.

“They never left. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this.” The Monkey King took out the lantern, once more bathing the room in that familiar glow.

“What’s the big deal about a lantern?”

The stone monkie found her ignorance all the more entertaining. To think he hadn’t warned her of his own past.

“The big deal is that my dear warrior crafted this lantern long ago. It was his finest work and like everything he made it has multiple uses.” With a simple hand gesture, the silhouettes of Pigsy and Sandy appeared on the walls. “The Shadow Lantern can do more than enhance one’s skills in shadow magic, it can trap the bodies and souls of its targets. So long as the targets are trapped, the lantern can steal the shadows of its victims so its master can use them as a personal army until there is nothing left.”

“You expect me to believe Macaque made something so disgusting?” Even as Mei said it, she couldn’t help but recognize how similar the lantern’s magic was to her teacher’s. It was cool and soothing, but on the edge, there was an unmistakable edge of malice. “Even if he did, I doubt he made it without you whispering in his ears.”

“Oh child, you have no idea how many secrets he keeps from you. Let me share one with you.” The lantern grew brighter, and the silhouettes of her family members gained more substance as they peeled away from the walls.

Mei adjusted herself so all opponents were in her sight, but nothing could stop the sweat collecting on her forehead.

She sensed something powerful appear behind her. Jumping out of the way as a spear nearly severed her arm. She faced her new opponent. Only to almost drop her weapon.

Standing before her was another copy of Macaque only this one was even more disturbing. Its eyes burned with purple light, the shadows loving curled around it, but worst of all was the sneer filled with razor-tipped teeth.

“Did you honestly think my love was always so nice?”

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #lmk #long xiaojiao #mei #sun wukong #liu er mihou #monkey king #monkie kid swap au #shadow lantern #winterpower98 #i need to lay down #shadow play #monkey tyrant

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

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take me out (on a date)

Hange decides to set Levi up on some dates.

It doesn't go as well as she hopes.

"Levi!"

Hange bursts into his office, not waiting for an invitation to come in. Levi wouldn't have given it to her, but when Hange has ever listened to him?

The door bangs thunderously as she throws it closed, and then she moves further into the room, grabbing a chair and twisting it backwards to sit down. The grin on her face is positively mental, and at the back of his mind Levi wonders what exactly is wrong with him, because that smile doesn't faze him in slightest.

"I'm working, four-eyes," he grumbles, closing a tab with a video analysis of some movie he had never seen. "I don't have time for your shit."

"You'll want to hear it, Levi!" her voice is several octaves higher than Levi can tolerate, but Hange promptly ignores his angry scowl. "It will change your life!"

Last time Hange decided to change his life, his eyebrows got bleached.

Understandably, he isn't looking forward to another life changing experience, especially if it'll orchestrated by Hange.

But she doesn't seem to care if he's looking forward to it or not. She shoots up, almost sending poor chair tumbling to the floor, and starts pacing around the room.

"So! I must admit this thought had come to me completely out of sudden. I was in the middle of breakfast, you see, or, no- Wait! I was talking to Nifa! Or watching that new tv-show, you know the one where—"

"Four-eyes," Levi grits when his head starts spinning after watching her move back and forth across the room. "Get to the fucking point."

Hange stops for a second, to flash him an amused smile. "A little impatient, are we? I can understand it, yes... After all, what I'm offering—"

"Four-eyes!"

"Alright, alright!" Hange throws her hands into the air and resumes her pacing. Absentmindedly, Levi wonders how much coffee she has already consumed this morning.

"I guess, what I was doing doesn't really matter. What matters is what I've been thinking about. And I've been thinking about you."

Oh. This gets Levi's attention. It grips it tightly and doesn't let go. Here he thought Hange was going on about another experiment of hers or some other, equally annoying shit, but she has been thinking about him... Levi straightens his back and leans in, watching Hange more intently now.

"So I started thinking about you and it got me thinking, you know, about other people and stuff. And I know what you're going to say!" she furrows her eyebrows in expression Levi guesses should resemble his. Hange does a very poor job, though. He is almost sure he doesn't look that ridiculous. "I'm not people's person, four-eyes, I don't care about them," she says in as low voice as she can manage.

Levi is inclined to agree. He's not a people's person. He is however, a person's person. And his person is currently measuring his office with quick, jerky steps.

"But I think you're a bit wrong. Maybe, you don't like other people, but there are people who like you, so I thought, well, everyone deserve love, and you deserve it above everyone else, because you're so kind and very sweet, and really, really handsome, so I thought, well..." Hange turns to look at him, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Levi takes a sharp breath. This is it, he realizes. Hange is going to confess to him, a completely not pathetic crush that he was harboring for almost a decade now is finally going to be reciprocated.

His own office isn't the place he thought it was going to happen, but it's fine, he can work with that. He's having feelings for the craziest person he knows, so, really, a little bit of oddity is more than expected.

Levi is already thinking how should he answer that confession - should he tell Hange he feels the same or would a simple kiss suffice, when Hange moves to his desk. She places her hands onto the wooden surface and looms over him with a wide, excited smile. Levi's lips pull in a smile of his own.

"That's why, Levi," she says. "I will help you to find your love! Or, well," Hange adds, while Levi is too busy having a goddamn stroke because why was he, oh why, was he so naive in thinking that Hange would act normal for once? That she would stop being so oblivious and dumb? That she would clean those stupid glasses of hers and finally see what she's doing to him? But Hange doesn't see, even now, she's too blinded by her new, thrilling idea to notice his disappointed, fallen face. "If that doesn't work, at least, it’ll help you to get laid! That stick up your ass, it got so deep, I don't think it's healthy."

Hange starts laughing, too amused by her own stupid joke, and Levi thinks, if that's who you've fallen for? Then you've fallen so low, Levi...

But what can he do? He's fallen and he doesn't think he will be able to get up.

But with a help of someone else, with a strong, steady hand he'll be able to get up from the bottom he's currently buried at.

The idea is as stupid as Hange is, and it's as hopeless as his crush on her, but what he has to lose now?

***

That's how he finds himself in a small Chinese restaurant with Hange sitting across from him. He'd enjoy his evening, he'd entertain the idea that it almost looks like a date, if Hange wasn't wearing such serious expression, her eyes scanning him up and down as though he's a new mouse she decides to experiment at.

"Alright," she declares, turning around to get her backpack. She pulls out a notebook, and with a sense of growing dread, Levi sees her open it at the page that is already full with notes.

"After our little conversation, I asked around a bit..." she mutters, not looking up from a notebook. "I found a couple of friends who are single, but let's start with someone we both know for now..."

The feeling of dread is almost overwhelming now, because Levi is sure what will follow is going to be one of the worst conversations in his life.

"So! Let's start, shall we?" she grips the pen in her fingers tightly and turns the entirety of her attention to him. "What do you think about Mike?"

Levi chokes on a soup he was eating.

"What the fuck, four-eyes?" he hisses. "He's huge!"

Hange pouts. "You don't have to take it straight to bed, you know…"

His face burns and, as the images of him and that giant together enters his mind, Levi wants nothing more than to gag. He kicks Hange under the table in retaliation, making her yelp and rub her ankle.

"He's twice my height, you perverted dipshit. I would look like a brat next to him."

"Not one for daddy's kink, eh?" Hange mutters with that insufferable grin of hers, and Levi kicks her again. "Fine, fine, could have just said no. Mike was actually weirded out by my offer too, I just asked to see if he's your type or not."

"He's not," Levi grits, furious, because his type is sitting right across him in ridiculous oversized shirt and dirty glasses. How low has he fallen...

"I guess I can cross Erwin out as well. Alright!" Hange chirps. "What about Moblit?"

At that, Levi's mood almost lifts. It's good to know his feelings are not the only ones that completely go over Hange's head.

He can just imagine it too, both of them - he and Moblit - getting drunk in some shitty bar, united by their shared infatuation with irritating, absurdly oblivious four-eyed weirdo.

The image conjured by his mind is so pathetic, it almost sends him into a feat of self-pity.

"No," he tells Hange curtly, and she crosses another name.

"Alright, what about Gelgar?"

"He's a drunkard. Pass."

"Nanaba?"

"I've known her since childhood, she’s like a sister. Pass."

"Lynn?"

He doesn't remember who the fuck Lynn is, and so hesitates to give an answer. Hange takes it a sign of agreement, and giggles, writing something down in the notebook. "Got it... What about Gunter?"

"He's my subordinate," Levi reminds.

"And engaged," Hange winks. "But that wasn't what stopped you? Ah, you're naughty one, Ackerman."

And then, to his horror, Hange adds another note.

"And, last but not the least... What do you think about Nifa?"

"Um..."

"So another hit, eh?" Hange smiles so earnestly and brightly, Levi can't just find it in himself to disappoint her.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Hange winks again, closing the noteboor. "I'll analyze the data and set you up on a perfect date. Don't worry, Levi," Hange leans over the small table and covers his hand with hers. You've got to be kidding me, Levi thinks furiously, as his heart starts doing lambada in his ribcage. "I'll find someone you would like."

Look in the mirror, idiot, Levi wants to say, but lets out only a short annoyed grunt.

***

The next day, Erwin and Mike join him at lunch.

"Heard Hange decided to set you up on some dates," Erwin says, his head tilted and eyes curious.

Levi takes a mouthful of salad he brought from home, and nods.

"It's tough, man," Mike remarks.

"Yeah," Levi agrees, because, really, what else is there to say?

"It's interesting," Erwin declares, intrigued like he's reading about some obscure phenomenon or watches a discovery channel, and not observes the confusing relationship between two of his friends. "Something good may come out of it. Come, Mike," he stands up and Mike follows. "There is an urgent matter we need to discuss."

"Ah," Mike grins rather enigmatically. He shots Levi a sly look. "Don't let me down, Levi," he salutes him and then both of them are gone.

Levi's lunch is peaceful and uneventful for another minute.

And then Hange shows up and his chances at peace and quiet are promptly thrown out of the window.

***

The first person Hange sets him up with is Lynn. Levi still doesn't remember her, but decides to just roll with it. He knows her name and Hange had vaguely described her in the midst of her gushing and her reassurances that Levi would like her so much.

On the night of the supposed date, however, Hange shuffles inside his apartment, completely crestfallen. Levi entertains a thought - maybe, Hange had realized what a mistake she's doing, but then she falls on his coach, hand over face, and announces, "Lynn canceled your date. Apparently she didn't really know who you are," well, that makes two of them. "And today she saw you and she said you're not really her type," she sniffles, mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Levi..."

"It's fine," he says, and really, it is. He's actually relieved that the date is no longer happening.

Hange has a different opinion, of course.

"But Levi! I ruined your evening! You got all dressed up and now I've ruined it all." Hange shoots up to her feet, her face determined. "I'll make it better," she vows. "C'mon," she tugs at his arm. "I'll take you to the movies!"

*** Evening with Hange is so much better than a date with some Lynn could ever be.

They go to the dinner, eat horrible, greasy fries and down it all with disgustingly sweet milkshakes. They head to the movies next and Hange picks some dumb, action movie that Levi hates and she loves.

It’s quite boring, that movie, so Levi entertains himself by keeping his hand in a popcorn bucket, waiting for his and Hange's fingers to brush.

His heart races every time they do.

It’s almost a perfect evening, the only grievance Levi has is that the movie ends before he could throw his arm over Hange's shoulders.

But this little shortcoming is all but forgotten, when Hange offers to walk him home and then wraps her jacket over him.

Levi thinks about kissing her, about standing on his tiptoes and pressing his lips to her, when Hange declares, rather happily, "I found you another date, Levi! This one will show up, don't you worry!"

And the she bounces away, crushing all of his hopes and dreams.

***

His first real date is a man Hange describes as her university friend.

"Onyakopon is great!" she says. "He is getting his master's degree in aerodynamics and he's so funny! Handsome, too!"

"That's why you're undressing me right now?" Levi points out to her hands that pop open one, then another button on his shirt. Not that he minds, really, he wouldn't say no to Hange undressing him, but not before he has to go on a date with another person.

"You dress like an old man, Levi," she shakes her head, smoothing down the fine fabric. "You need to show them you're not just pretty face, but a rocking bod as well!"

Levi's face catches fire as Hange winks at him, and not for the first time, he wonders why the hell Hange has come up with this whole setting him up with someone shit, if she thinks he looks hot. Is his personality that repulsive to her? But then why she constantly hangs out with him?

Sometimes Hange is as easy to read as a children's book. And sometimes he can't understand her at all.

"Go get him, tiger!" she ruffles his hair and wishes him luck.

Sighing, Levi leaves his apartment.

***

At first, everything is awkward.

Onyakopon asks him questions - what is he doing for a living, what are his hobbies, and Levi gives him short, concrete answers, adding a weak "and you?".

Things pick up after Levi asks what Onyakopon is studying, and the evening is saved from being a complete disaster, when Onyakopon launches into a tale of why he loves aerodynamics so much.

He's handsome, Hange wasn't wrong with that. And he's passionate - his eyes are burning and his hands are flying around as he explains to Levi one concept or the other. Levi understands why Hange is friends with him, they're united by love for knowledge, although Onyakopon is lacking all of Hange's eccentricities.

The conversation shifts after Onyakopon asks him how he knows Hange.

"Co-workers," Levi mumbles, and adds a reluctant, "And you?"

Onyakopon's face breaks into a smile that is even brighter than the one he was sporting while talking about his studies. He starts talking about his and Hange's time in college, how much fun they were having in the lab, and Levi realizes that Onyakopon is yet another member of the pitiful I have a crush on Hange Zoe club and yet another victim of her obliviousness.

"Sorry," Onyakopon chuckles, hand on his neck. "I've got... carried away."

"No problem," Levi answers. "I understand."

"Hange is really one of a kind, right?"

"Unfortunately," Levi says, and both of them share a long, knowing look.

Onyakopon, all in all, isn't that bad. But when they say their goodbyes, there is no promise of another date. There is not even a vague "let's do this again sometime". But if Levi would ever find himself in too deep, when his stupid crush would make him go nearly insane, he knows just the guy to call and get drunk at a shitty bar. Onyakopon would be a great addition to Levi's and Moblit's pity party.

***

Hange is saddened when he tells her that there won't be a second date, but she is not yet ready to give up.

So she sets him up with a person who is very different from Onyakopon. Hange must have forgotten about his rule of no giant blondes because it's the perfect description of Yelena, who is, well, a giant blonde. She also looks like a psycho and even Hange warns him to be more careful with that one.

Ah, well. At least, she isn't in love with Hange. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Hange dated my ex," Yelena explains, skipping hellos, how are yous and other pleasantries. She is too straightforward even for Levi. She’s also incredibly intense. And not in an inspiring way like Erwin is or charming way how Hange is. Yelena is intense in a scary, uncomfortable way. Like a serial killer. "Now I want to date hers."

"I'm not Hange's ex," Levi frowns, wondering where Hange had found that weirdo. "What kind of person sets their ex up on a date?" he adds, feeling that it should be voiced out.

"I don't know," Yelena shrugs. "Probably the one who doesn't really care about that sort of thing. So you're not her ex?" she asks once again.

"No."

"Oh, alright. Good evening then," she raises up from a table, towering over Levi. "Fist steak here is really delicious," she says. "You should try it."

And then she is gone.

Levi stays and orders a steak. It really is good.

Just as he finishes it, he texts Hange,

this one was a psycho. she left after first five minutes

Hange replies with a crying emoji and vows to do better.

***

His next date is with Nifa, and somehow, probably because they already know each other, this date is the most enjoyable yet.

Nifa feeds him gossips about each member of their office, and some of them are actually funny enough to get a chuckle out of him. And when she tells him about that time when Erwin got his pants ripped right at his ass and Nifa walked in on Mike trying to sew them together, Levi loses it to the point of choking on his drink.

When he walks Nifa home, she gives him a tight hug.

"I had so much fun today..." she says, fumbling with the straps of her bag.

"But?" Levi softly prompts.

"But I actually agreed to this date because Hange had asked me. You see we have this little thing with Moblit..."

Ah. So even Moblit is moving on? Lucky bastard.

"I wish you the best then," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Nifa raises on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "And Levi? Hange will get around."

He doubts she will, but he’s thankful for the kind words all the same.

***

What follows after that is the worst date of Levi's life.

Zeke is the guy Hange dated in college. The relationship lasted for no more than two weeks, yet Zeke seems immensely proud of his little achievement, mentioning it at every opportunity.

If that wasn't irritating enough, Zeke turns out to be arrogant, pompous and sneering jerk.

Levi accidentally pours his wine at Zeke's white shirt, and Zeke retaliates by kicking Levi's sheen when he goes to the bathroom, almost sending him face-first into the restaurant's carpet floor.

This almost leads to a fistfight that quickly gets resolved by Hange who appears out of nowhere. She calls Zeke a moron and sends him home. She turns to Levi then, apologizing for Zeke and promises to make it up to him. Levi doesn't really need it, just watching Zeke get scolded like that was more than enough to right any grievance he could have had, but then Hange offers to order takeout and watch movie at her place, and Levi thinks he's allowed to feel a little slighted.

The evening ends with Hange fast asleep on a couch and tucked into his side, and Levi wonders if he should agree to another date with Zeke, just so Hange could make it up to him again.

***

"She's cute, isn't she?" Hange shows him a picture of dark-haired, smiling woman, and Levi nods, absentmindedly. The woman is objectively pretty, but her appearance stirs up nothing inside him. "It's Pieck, she's great! Do you like her?"

"She's fine," he mutters, his attention more on the papers in front of him than on that Pieck and their upcoming date. The name is vaguely familiar, but Levi puts that thought aside, deciding to tackle it some other time.

"Then I'll tell her you're free on Saturday!" Hange announces and after swiftly ruffling his hair, she's out of the office, as spontaneously as she came.

*** Pieck Finger is even prettier in person. She has long dark hair and deep big eyes. She uses a walking stick and she's dressed in a colorful sundress.

They're slowly making their way through a museum, and Pieck quietly tells him about different parts of exhibition.

They've walked through two rooms, when Pieck apologizes and asks if they can sit down for a while. Levi leads her to the nearest bench and Pieck shoots him a grateful smile before sitting down.

"Pieck," she offers him her hand. "Hange's ex."

Ah, so that's how he knows her name.

Levi takes her hand in his, squeezing it just a little too tight. He doesn't know Pieck, never talked to her before their date, but she's Hange's ex. Levi can't help but dislike her just for that.

"Levi," he answers, letting go of her hand.

"Oh, I know," Pieck grins, whipping her hair. "Hange told me about you. A lot."

"Oh, right. Before our date."

Pieck chuckles at that, and then turns to the painting in front of them.

"Are you an artist?" Levi asks, taking note of the way her eyes trace every bit of the painting.

"Not really," she says. "But coming here calms me down. Do you have something like that, Levi? Something that calms you down?"

Cleaning, he wants to say. A good cup of tea, he wants to add. But then he remembers his last date, the hot rage he felt just by looking at Zeke. Tea didn't help him then. Neither did cleaning. It was Hange who came and conquered the storm inside him.

The revelation shouldn't be a revelation at all, he knows Hange for a decade now, he also knows just how important she is to him. Yet this discovery still gives him a pause, and it takes him some time to come back to his senses.

"Hange is something else, isn't she?" Pieck's gentle voice brings him back to reality. "She's like... an exquisite painting. She has the same uncanny ability to just draw people in."

Levi doesn't quite know what to say to this, but Pieck doesn't seem to expect an answer.

"But like some paintings, she can be really chaotic. She's too bright, she always feels too much... Don't fault her for having troubles with sorting it all out."

"I don't—" he wants to protest, but Pieck's knowing look silences him.

"We've dated for almost a year," Pieck says. "It's been fun and I was in love. I was also the one who broke up with her. Do you know why?"

Levi shakes his head. Hange never told him.

"And about me? Has she ever talked about me?"

"No," Levi answers. "She did not."

"Huh," Pieck hums, gripping her stick to slowly stand up. Levi thinks he offended her, but when Pieck looks at him again, there is a soft smile on her lips. She reaches out, lays a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"And yet, she used to talk my ears off about you."

She leaves a second later, and Levi is too stunned to follow after her and ask what did her words mean.

***

The next date will be the last one, Levi decides. He's getting tired of pretending that he does it in attempt to move on from Hange, because it clearly isn't working.

"That's Petra," Hange explains as she shows him yet another photo. The girl in picture is attractive, and, what's more important, not even vaguely familiar, and that is certainly relieving. Maybe, this one isn't Hange's ex. "She's my cousin," Hange continues, confirming his guess. "Well, she's a very, very distant one, but cousin all the same. She was at my last year's birthday party, do you remember her?"

"Not really," he confesses. All he remembers about that day is being drunk on wine and on feeling of Hange's arm around his shoulders, as she dragged him from one guest to another.

"I don't really remember if I introduced the two of you, but she likes you. She was staring at you during the whole party, she says," she was? Levi didn't notice. Then again, he most probably was too busy staring at the cousin of Hange's cousin to see anyone else. "So, yeah, Petra is, um, excited about this date."

Hange doesn't look him in the eyes as she speaks and she fiddles with sleeve of her shirt almost anxiously. It makes Levi wonder - if Petra likes him so, why haven't Hange introduced them earlier?

"You will like her, I think," Hange says, strangely quiet. "I gave her your number, she'll call you in the evening. Em," she stands up from the desk and pats his shoulders. "Good luck, I guess," she gives him a smile that seems forced and doesn't reach her eyes.

Hange leaves his office quietly without looking back even once.

***

They go to the park. They walk around and Petra gathers flowers as she talks about her hobbies and life. Levi learns that she is a school teacher and she's good at violin. She tends to her old father and she dreams of going to Paris.

She is ridiculously adorable - petite and soft-spoken, she looks like a disney princess, the type that attracts butterflies on her fingers and joins in on birds' songs every morning.

Levi likes her, he thinks. Well, he certainly doesn't dislike her, which already makes Petra stand out from all of his previous dates. And he can work with that, has to work with that, because otherwise he'd have to admit his defeat, he'd have to surrender to the knowledge that he'll be in love with Hange Zoe until the end of his pitiful life.

Levi isn't ready to wave the white flag just yet, so he asks Petra on another date, and then another.

It's going well, he tells Hange and expects squeals, smug looks or, at least, sincere congratulations.

Instead Hange mumbles, "I'm happy for you, Levi," and doesn't ask about Petra again.

Levi tries not to think about it, tries not to think about Hange, because he has someone else now, he has Petra and he has to commit to her now. Maybe, it will help him get over Hange.

And yet, his heart still aches for her and her only.

Still, Levi doesn't give up.

***

Every weekend, he asks Petra on a date, inviting her to a new place each time.

He makes sure that every place they visit is not a place he had ever visited with Hange. It proves to be a hard task very quickly, during their many years of friendship Hange has dragged him to almost every curious place in their city, but Levi manages.

He searches online and asks his friends and coworkers.

"What the fuck, Levi?" Mike looks almost angry as Levi asks him if he knows a good restaurant he can take Petra to. "Don't you and—"

Erwin stops him before he lets out whatever he wanted to say.

He gives Levi a tight-lipped smile and promises to send a few suggestions after work.

However, despite all his efforts, most probably, because he really is a hopeless fool, Levi just can't seem to stop thinking about Hange.

They go to a theater, and as Petra gushes about superb acting, intricate story parallels and other little things Levi doesn't quite see, he can't get rid of Hange's voice in his head that picks up every silly detail and makes a devastating joke about it.

They attend a concert of some local indie group and their songs are just horrible enough to make him miss Hange's weird music taste.

They visit the city's aquarium, Petra is dressed in a lovely blue skirt and sea green top, but Levi doesn't even notice. As he wanders around the aquarium, watching dolphins, sharks and medusas, all he can think about is damn, four-eyes would have loved it here.

*** It's their fifth date and Levi walks Petra home. The night chill is in the air and the winds blows smoothly, ruffling Petra's auburn hair and making her huff adorably as she fruitlessly tries to keep her haircut in order.

Levi wonders if he should lend her his jacket and remembers the time Hange did the same for him. That starts a new chain of thought - his interactions with Hange in the recent weeks, or, rather a disappointing lack of them. Hange doesn't come to disturb his quiet lunches anymore and she doesn't drape herself over his table, pestering him with stupid jokes and annoying puns.

Perhaps, it is for the best. Perhaps, it will make moving on even easier, but Levi doesn't want easier. He wants his best friend back. Even if she doesn't share his feelings.

"Levi?" Petra's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. It's gentle and quiet, like a summer breeze. It's drastically different from Hange's loud, booming one that resembles a thunder. Levi winces as soon the comparison enters his mind.

You're trying to move on, you idiot.

"Levi," Petra repeats, clutching the sleeve of his jacket to stir him away from a sidewalk. "I think we need to talk."

Oh, Levi knows that tone. It's a tone that says there is nothing wrong with you, but…

It's a tone that says it's their fifth and last date.

"I'm sorry," he tells Petra as soon as she seats them at a nearby bench. He really is sorry. He's sorry for wanting but not actually trying hard enough to move on. Petra deserves better than that. Deserves someone who will love her for who she is and not as a replacement for someone he can never have.

"It's alright," Petra smiles, because she's amazing like that. Because she's a kind person Levi never deserved. "I understand. There is someone else, right?" she gingerly lays her hand on his chest, right above his heart. "Someone that lives here."

Levi nods jerkily, moving his eyes to stare at the dark street. The sympathy in Petra's eyes is almost too much to bear.

"I should have known..." Petra chuckles, shakes her head. "When I first saw you, at that party, I was instantly taken away. You looked so handsome, with that sharp jaw and piercing eyes, I couldn't stop staring. I kept trying to catch your gaze, wishing that you would look back and be just as struck by me as I was of you. But you had eyes only for one person, right?"

There is no judgement, no anger in her voice. Petra sounds rather wistful, and Levi thinks that he'd rather endure her bitterness than have her kindness.

"Petra, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't be," she says, placing a hand on his cheek. She caresses his skin, turning his face to look at her. She's smiling, so sweet and breathtakingly pretty. "It wasn't fair of me, to wish for something that wasn't mine. I saw the two of you, only a blind wouldn't see how devoted you are to my cousin...” and yet, Levi can’t help, but think bitterly, there is someone who still doesn’t see. “Hange is so brilliant, so smart, but sometimes she doesn't notice what's right in front of her. You have to show her, Levi, give a little push in the right direction," Petra pauses, presses her lips to his cheek. "Just don't give up yet. I want you both to be happy."

"Petra..." he touches her hand on his cheek, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for everything."

"I have my fair share of fun," she giggles. Petra stands up, smoothing her skirt. She turns to look at him, "By the way, Levi, do you have a brother?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Only a balding, annoying uncle who is twice your age."

"Ah," Petra's face falls. "Guess the world isn't lucky enough to have another one of you. But who knows?" she grins. "Maybe, I'll find someone even better."

As Levi watches her walk away, skipping between cars and people with an easy spring in her step, he wishes that Petra - the girl who looks just like a disney princess - will find her prince and get her happily ever after.

***

Levi pushes the door of his apartment complex, feeling spent and exhausted, with Petra's words still weighing heavily over his head.

Maybe, he should take her advice? Maybe, he should tell Hange how he feels, just to let it out of his chest.

He contemplates if he should call her or send her a text.

hey, hange, your cousin just broke up with me, because i'm hopelessly in love with you. i have beer and leftover pizza. want to hang out?

He quickly pushes the idea away. It'd be too pathetic even for him.

Besides, what if Hange isn't at home? What if she isn't alone and is on another date or already in someone else's arms?

Levi doesn't think he can take it. At least, not today.

As he shuffles up the stairs, he looks up to see the familiar hallway that leads to his apartment. Everything is as it always is - fluorescent light that flicks on and off, large trashcan littered with cigarette buts, a window that stands broken for almost a month now, and a body sitting by his doorstep.

Levi stops.

The body is definitely a new addition.

Tall, lanky and adorned with a mop of messy hair, Levi recognizes it instantly.

He quickens his step, worry seizing his throat.

What Hange is doing here? Is she ill? Is she—

"Leviii! Here you are!"

Lopsided grin, unfocused gaze and glasses that are steadily slipping down her nose, Levi doesn't need to see a bottle of wine clutched in her hand to know that Hange is drunk.

"The fuck you're doing here, four-eyes?" he grunts, taking the bottle away.

"I came to see you," she slurs, and it's a testament of how far he is gone, because even now, he finds Hange incredibly endearing.

"Why?" he pinches the bridge of his nose, an almost overwhelming feeling of I can't fucking do this right now washing over him.

"I wanted to—" Hange falters, and her grin disappears. "Doesn't matter," she mutters and attempts to stand up. "I should go."

She sways on her feet and trips, almost falls, but Levi doesn't let her. He catches her in the very last moment, putting his arms around her waist.

Hange's hands are around his neck, and she doesn't look him in the eyes. She stares at his left cheek instead.

"You really like her, huh?" she murmurs. "I'm happy, Levi."

Hange doesn't look happy at all. Her lips are pressed together, tightly, and there are tears in her eyes.

Levi doesn't understand.

He presses a hand to his cheek, to the spot Hange was looking at.

His fingers come away red.

Oh, it hits him. Petra's lipstick.

Was that the thing that upset Hange?

"C'mon," he pushes Hange upwards, despite her feeble protests. He doesn't have the energy to deal with it right now, but he can't just leave Hange here or let her go home by herself. "Let's get you inside."

"No, Levi," Hange fruitlessly attempts to push him away, but Levi just tightens his hold on her and presses her to his side.

"Don't squirm so much," he admonishes, struggling to get to his key. "Where did you get so drunk anyway?"

During their many years of friendship, Levi has seen drunk Hange more times that he could count. But he had never seen her like this. Drunk Hange can be loud, vulgar, batshit insane. But she's not a sad drunk, never were. And the things she just said, the melancholy that accompanied them... Levi doesn't know what to make of it.

He decides not to acknowledge it, after all, Hange is drunk, even if she acts more strangely than usual, and so he focuses on getting her inside his apartment without letting her fall down or hit the wall.

It proves to be a more complicated task than anticipated because Hange keeps trying to get away from him.

Levi mutters a curse. As if he would let her.

After they finally pass the threshold, a tougher battle ensues. He leans Hange against the wall and gets on his knees, attempting to take off her shoes while simultaneously keeping her from falling on her ass.

After that is finally done, he drags Hange in the living room and deposits her on a couch.

"Are you sober enough to take a shower?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

Hange confirms it by shaking her head.

On one hand, Levi can always shower her himself, he has done it before. On the other... he's not drunk enough to do it.

"What a mess," he sighs and goes to bring her a blanket and a glass of water.

"So?" he drapes the blanket over her and crouches next to her face. "What happened?"

"I was out with Nanaba..." she begins, hand thrown over her face. "And then Mike and Erwin showed up..."

Ah, so that's who he needs to blame for all of it.

"And they asked me where you were and I told them about your date and Petra and..." Hange lets out a sound, something between a sniffle and sob. "And then they ambushed me! Mike said that I'm an idiot, Erwin told that I acted surprisingly unwise, which is... Have you ever noticed that sometimes Erwin talks like he's a character from Jane Austen's novels? Like he's Darcy or some other shit? It's irritating, I bet he does it on purpose, to appear more... more sophisticated."

"Hange," he flicks her forehead lightly, chucking to himself. "Get to the point."

"Right, right," she nods. "And then Nanaba... Nanaba smacked my head! She called me all sorts of names—" Hange raised her fingers, counting. "A moron, a fool, simpleton, dummy, an oblivious ass and a jerk. She then said I'm blind and unobservant."

Well... Nanaba wasn't wrong. Levi needs to thank her for that speech of hers. He couldn't have said it better.

"I'm not any of these things, am I, Levi?"

Hange turns to look at him now, her large eyes pulling him in, drowning him in their endless depth. She moves her hand, laying her palm on his cheek. The gesture reminds him of his conversation with Petra, but his feelings are different now. With Petra he felt ashamed and guilty.

With Hange, he feels confused and enamored.

She's drunk, he reminds himself. She doesn't know what she's doing, you're taking advantage of her.

He needs to leave her alone, to keep his distance before Hange gets her wits back.

"She's so orderly, huh?" Hange whispers, caressing his cheek. "It's your fifth date, and she only kisses you on a cheek."

Levi breathes out her name, unsure of everything now. What Hange is talking about can't possibly be true.

"She's so good, right? Petra is pretty and sweet, and she's not crazy like me. She doesn't annoy you like I do, and she's—"

She's not you, Levi wants to say. Instead he presses a hand over her mouth, silencing Hange before another stupid thing comes out.

"Stop this, four-eyes. You don't know what you're talking about. You're drunk."

"I am," Hange agrees. "Do you want to know why? Because I fucked up. Because I lost you and it's my fault that I did. Because the thought of you with someone else is so painful that I decided to drink until I forget," she chuckles, a broken, hollow sound, and raises her head to stare at the ceiling. "And now here we are."

Here they are...

"Nanaba was right," Levi curtly declares. "You're an idiot, Hange, the biggest one I had seen."

"Eh?"

"Do you know why it didn't work out with all the people you set me up with? Why it didn't work out with Petra? Why it wouldn't work out with anyone else?"

Hange opens her mouth, but Levi silences her once again.

"I'll let you think about it. You can tell me your answer in the morning."

Before Hange can protest, he plucks off her glasses and wraps the blanket tighter around her.

"Water is on a coffee table," he tells and heads to the bed.

It was one hell of a day. And something tells him - another horrible one is already waiting for him.

***

When he wakes up in the morning, it's to the pleasant smell of fried eggs and freshly brewed tea.

Cautiously, with last night’s events still fresh in his mind, he gets up and follows the smell to his kitchen.

There, he finds Hange with her hair still wet from a shower and dressed in his t-shirt and shorts.

Levi takes a second to take it all in - the sight of Hange in his clothes, the ease with which she moves around his kitchen, as though she belongs here, in his home. It's a sight he would never forget, and a sight he longs to see every morning, until the end of his days.

Hange notices him a moment later. She waves at him, grinning, and beckons him to take a seat.

"Good morning," she sings, far too cheerful for a person who was too drunk to stand last night.

She sets two plates and two cups on a table, and sits down next to him.

"How did you sleep?" she asks through a mouthful of her breakfast. "Good, I hope?"

"It was fine," he shrugs, attempting to mask his unease. Hange looks at him... strangely. "And you?"

"Mm, just a few hours and then I couldn't really sleep," ah, that explains it all then. Levi guesses Hange's cup isn't filled with tea. He wonders how much coffee she had already consumed. "I did something, by the way, to thank you for letting me crush at your place."

"You mean breakfast?"

"Well, that too, but no, another thing." Hange straightens out suddenly, shooting him a rueful grin. Her eyes, however, are nervous. "I've found you another date!"

Levi's face falls, but Hange either doesn't notice or doesn't care. She keeps on talking.

"She's something, Levi, super smart, downright hilarious and is extremely, unbelievably sexy. What's better, she's completely crazy about you. Like, it's actually embarrassing how much she likes you. Talks and thinks about you all the time, considers you the best thing in her life, well, like I said, she's crazy. She will lose it completely if you agree."

For a long moment, Levi is silent. He pushes the food around the plate, keeping his face down. And his smile away from Hange's eyes.

Then, when he physically can feel Hange's nervousness, he finally speaks.

"I guess, I can go on a date or two. See if we're compatible or not."

"Mm, I think you're quite compatible."

"I think so too."

It gets quiet for a moment, and then, because Hange is the biggest idiot he had ever met, she leans close to him and whispers, "I was talking about myself. You realized it, right? I'm asking you on a date. Just you know, I don't want you to misunderstand something or—"

Hange is insufferable. Impossible. Infuriating. Absolutely breathtaking, even in the moments of her greatest stupidity.

And kissing before the first date is unseemly. Outrageous, as Erwin would have put it. Levi’s mother didn’t raise him like that.

But Levi does it anyway, because, as he finds out - it's the best way to shut Hange up.

The kiss is quick, chaste, just a momentary touch to the corner of her lips.

Luckily, it’s enough to make her halt mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open slightly.

Levi rather likes her dazed expression.

“I have one condition,” he remarks casually, returning to his breakfast.

“Anything,” Hange promises, and Levi smirks at the slight breathlessness in her voice.

“No more setting me up with other people.”

“Oh,” she laughs, and because she’s utterly impossible he presses a kiss to his lips too. “Yeah, I can definitely work with that.”

Well, Levi can work with that too.

#levihan

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago

Text

Their Doll 5

Throw a punch

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n finally beats Bucky, he has a surprise for her when she returns from her first mission.

Warnings: smut, violence, mention of death/murder

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

3 years. 3 godforsaken, bloody torturous years. That's how long I'd been in this hell hole. How long I'd been repeatedly beaten up by my only form of solace daily. How long I'd been whipped for simply not being good enough to beat a super soldier. How long I'd endured endless torture. And today, today is the day that it will all end.

If there was one thing the last three years taught me, is that I should duck and run rather than throw a punch. At least that's what I thought, and I'd never really been willing to risk a broken jaw to prove my theory. That is, until today.

Come on, y/n, you can do this. The words were repeated in my mind, my own mantra, in order to psych myself up for what I was about to do. There was a fire grip on my arm - arguably much tighter than necessary - as the guards dragged my down the hollow hall to my training session with the Winter Soldier. Pft, more like two hours of humiliation and a sore ass, I though, a little smirk spreading on my lips at my own joke.

"What're you laughing about? Something funny, Stark?" The guard who had the grip on my arm spat through gritted teeth and the smirk was instantly ripped from my lips, instead reverting back to the hard expression I had been trying to maintain while around anyone who worked for HYDRA.

So basically everyone.

We walked in silence the rest of the way, like normal, and the guard roughly shoved my into the room by a hand between my shoulder blades, like normal. But today wasn't like normal - no, today was the day I was the one to throw a punch.

They removed the silencer from my head and let me take a gulp of water before The General was barking the order for us to begin.

I walked into the centre of the room, shoulders back and stare cold. The soldier's gaze matched mine as his cerulean eyes bore into my own, his jaw clenched and hands already curling into fists as I stood before him. We maintained the stare for a moment - almost as if the other was waiting for the other to make the first move, an open opportunity to take the win.

And so I did.

Using the speed I'd worked up to over time, I farted towards the soldier, ducking on a seconds notice as his metal fist flew out. I landed a jab to his stomach, one hard enough to make him cough slightly with the knocked up air but far from hard enough to actually make him stumble. Distracted, he barely noticed me as I slipped under him - through his legs out by his back, which I was quick to jump on. I let my legs wrap around his muscular waist and my left arm wrap around his throat, making the soldier grit his teeth and attempt to pry my arm away from his neck as he began to choke.

When he attempted to fling my forward, I tangled my right fist into his brown locks, yanking painfully and making the soldier cry out as I lowered my lips to his ear. Another thing I'd learnt in the past three years is that the soldier was only affected by my powers under two conditions:

One, he was off-guard or vulnerable - hence the choking - and two, I was as close to him as I could possibly get.

I began to him a soft tune - one I had discovered was most effective in lowering my opponent's defence and lulling them into a false sense of security. I practically smirked irksomely when I sensed his eyes rolling back in defeat and his assault on my arm falter - body falling limp and relaxed under the quell of my voice.

When I was sure I'd lowered his defences enough, I slowly climbed down from his back and admired my handy-work.

The Winter Soldier, stood dopey and barely lucid before me, without so much as the energy to even move his arm, let alone land a heavy punch like he normally would. I took my chance, the man nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones as my leg swept through his, bringing the soldier down the the ground with a loud noise that resembled a mixture of a crash and a thud.

Of course, the impact made my tune immediately ware-off and the soldier was now fully lucid, but I could barely contain myself as I punched my fists into the air triumphantly and a grin curled across my lips.

A lonely applause filled the tall room, bringing me back to earth as I realised the situation. Footsteps angled towards me, slow and calculated as the claps slowed to a stop, The General standing before me with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well done, Miss Stark." He congratulated, looking around him and outstretching his arms. "It only took you, what? Three years?" He mocked, the taunting laughter of the guards making me feel nauseous. But I kept my composure, returning his mocking, tight-lipped smile that didn't even dare go near my eyes - which were alright with anger. "And now your training is complete. We shall have to teach you how to use a gun, I suppose?" He said lazily. I clenched my jaw.

"I knew how to use a gun perfectly fine, General." I gritted and his eyes brows shot up as he turned to face his comrades.

"Did you hear that, gentlemen? Looks like she doesn't need another three years to learn to fire a gun? My, my, haven't we lucked out with this one?" He mocked cruelly, coming back to face my burning eyes. He smirked, grabbing my chin between his thumb and his finger and angling my head up to meat his eyes. "Take her away, and get her ready for her first mission." He demanded, eyes churning with something that resembled pride, but darker. He kept his eyes on me as he spoke, before roughly jerking my chin away and letting the guards refasten the silencer over my mouth before they were grabbing and arm each and dragging me from the training room.

The pulled me back down the hollow hall - passing my usual cell.

"W-where are we going?" I asked, swallowing heavily as they halted to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door and we shoving me inside. There was nothing gentle about the HYDRA guards, not that I ever expected there to be.

Once I was in one of them tugged the door shut, the other throwing a bundle of clothes at me, which I fought as the flew at my chest. I opened the ball of fabric out, finding a skin-tight leather tactile suit - red HYDRA symbol embellished on either arm and over my heart - along with underwear and some black tactile boots.

The men stared at me expectantly, eyeing me up and down by never making the move to leave.

"Aren't you supposed to give me privacy to change?" I asked sheepishly. As humiliating it had been to be whipped for three years the sight toppled in front of these men, the idea of willingly getting changed while they were stood staring at me like I was a piece of meat made bile ride in my throat.

"I highly suggest you get to it, unless you'd like us to help out, of course." One of the guards said with a sickening expression, making me grimace and begin to tug my shirt over my head.

"And how about you do it...slowly, if you don't mind, Miss Stark." The other remarked, arms crossed over his chest as he bit his lip and glued his eyes intensely on my body.

I gulped, continuing to pull the shirt over my head. Oh boy, this was gonna be a long day.

…

Blood and soot cakes my nails, the icky feeling of the grime a haunting reminder of what I had just done. I was in the shower room, scrubbing the mud and blood from my body as quickly and efficiently as I could. I was used to cleaning my own blood from my skin, but the feeling of someone else’s just made me want to-

I shivered, hands shaking the the brush tumbling out of my grasp and clattering to the floor. I braced a hand on the wall, letting my head hang forward as I took a deep breath, before looking back up and wincing as the cold water streamed over me.

No hot showers at HYDRA. I hadn’t felt the feeling of warm water rush over me since the last time I had a long bubble bath back home...

I shook the thought off, carding my fingers through my hair and attempting to pick the dirt and gravel out of it. My breath was ragged as I felt a hot steam of air on my neck, the faint tickle of fingers brushing over my hips and up my body until two large hands - one flesh, one metal - caged my head to the tiled wall.

“Soldier...” I moaned breathily, letting my eyes slip shut at the feeling of his hot breath hitting the back of my neck. It was an intoxicating feeling, really, especially after being void of affectionate human contact for so many years. The soldier buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply before bringing his lips to my eye.

“I can’t stay away from you.” He murmured, flesh hand coming down to grab a handful of my ass roughly before letting go. I almost whined at the loss of contact before I felt a harsh spank against my right ass cheek. What surprised me the most was the expected cry of pain did not escape me, but rather a moan of pleasure.

I could feel the soldier’s smirk against my skin at my reaction, my eyes still shut as his hand trailed over my hip once again, before slipping down my front and running a finger through my wet folds. I jerked away as his fingertip brushed over my sensitive nub, pressing my lips together to surpress a needy groan at his low chuckle, the sound going straight to my core and causing a pang of arousal to dance through me.

“Ever been touched here before?” He husked in my ear and o shook my head, almost in embarrassment. “No?” He checked and I shook my head again. “I’ll try to be gentle.” He muttered, but before I could protest his cold with gliding through my folds, now coated in my wetness and slowly sheathing itself inside of me.

A raspy moan tore from my throat, the soldier groaning behind me as his hand moved to my hip in a vice-like grip. His cock stretched me beyond my limits, and to say it was painful was an understatement. After a moment of keeping his cock fully seated within me, the soldier pulled his hips back slowly before slamming back roughly. A burn formed in my cunt and I let out another moan, dropping my head forward to to cool shower wall when he thrusted into me again.

After a few more thrusts the pain started to dissipate, instead turning into a delicious and pleasurable burn that sent tingles through me. When one of my hands reached backwards to grip onto the soldier’s thigh, he took it as a signal to speed up snapping his hips into mine until the only thing that could be heard were our skin slapping together, my breathy and broken moans and the soldier’s frankly feral and animalistic growls and groans in my ear.

A sharp gasp crawled up my throat when his hand transferred from my hip down to my core, two fingers flicking at my bungle of nerves. I could feel every vein, every ridge, every part of him as I clamped down around him, throwing my head back to rest of his shoulder as his pace somehow increased again - fingers drawing tight and fast circles on my clit in time with his thrusts.

My knees buckled as I came with a shout, falling back into him as my legs gave up on me. He let out a growl as his thrusts faltered, a few more strokes and he was shooting his load deep into me. I winced as he pulled out, falling forwards into the wall as I tried to catch my breath - breathing laboured.

As I turned to face the soldier, maybe pull him into a kiss, he disappeared. It was like he had gone into thin air. The only trace of him left was his cum dripping down my thighs, tickling my skin.

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shinydelirium · 4 years ago

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MLQC Season 2 Chapter 21 (Kiro) Part 3 [Taking a Risk] & [Little Star] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of chapter 21: Part 1/ Part 2

[Taking A Risk]

Warm light reflects off the vintage crystal chandelier, casting fine shadows on the wall.

I returned to my room the next day. The service of storing Evol seemed to require a special number to be called.

I looked at the introduction in the hotel guide and dialed the number written on it.

Waiter: Hello, what can I do for you?

MC: Ahem, hello, I want to enjoy the service of storing Evol. How do I do it?

Waiter: What is your Evol type?

MC: ….My Evol deals with memory.

Waiter: Okay, the information has been registered for you.

Waiter: Please wait in the room for a moment. We will send a dedicated service staff to serve you.

I put down the phone and looked at Helios standing to the side with a worried look.

Helios: Now, we wait.

However, a few hours passed and there was still no sign of movement.

I leaned on the soft pillow a little nervously, looked towards the cabinet opposite me, and spoke quietly.

MC: …Helios, are you asleep?

After a while, a questioning sound came from the cabinet.

Helios: I’m asleep.

Hearing what he said, I couldn’t help but smile.

MC: Then Mr. Sleep Talker, shouldn’t you open the cabinet door a little bit to let some air out?

MC: Besides, this room has been checked and there’s no monitor, so you don’t have to hide so soon.

The air fell silent again and soon the cabinet door creaked to reveal a gap.

The light outside the door instantly spilled in, making those azure blue eyes clearer.

I lowered my head and looked at the closet. The space inside was really small. He could only sit down on the wooden board with his legs bent and his knees pressed to his chest.

Such a well-behaved sitting position matched with that expression.

I snickered in my heart and rested my head on my hand.

MC: After we leave this place, shall we go on a walk together and bask in the sun?

Helios: ….

The cabinet door became quiet again and occasionally I could hear shallow breathing.

I was about to change the subject when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Almost instantly, the faint beam of light from the cabinet door disappeared once more.

??: Dear guest, the service you requested has been processed.

??: If you’re ready, please press the button inside the handle.

MC: Okay.

I walked past the closet and knocked lightly with my fingertips. I went to the door and bent down.

With his reminder, I noticed that there was an extremely tiny button on the deep side of the handle.

MC: …This is too secretive.

The moment the button was pressed, the side wall suddenly pushed back and slowly pulled away to the left.

A waiter stood behind the hidden door and politely bowed.

Waiter: Pardon me.

MC: …Don’t you think this is a bit scary?

Waiter: In order to ensure the privacy of each guest, I am sorry that it has brought you a bad experience. We will make better improvements next time.

MC: …..

Waiter: Please follow me.

I walked into the secret door with no expression on my face. Then, I turned a corner into a deep corridor and I secretly felt that it was no wonder that Helios couldn’t find it.

This is too well hidden.

We walked into the elevator and the waiter pressed the only button on the panel.

The elevator shook slightly. The waiter frowned and looked up.

I vaguely guessed the reason for the elevator shaking so I spoke up. ***Is Helios gonna take a ride on top of the elevator??? So badass!!!***

MC: What’s the matter?

Waiter: Ah, I’m apologize for making you feel anxious.

Waiter: This elevator doesn’t normally shake.

MC: Probably your imagination? This elevator feels very stable to me. ***MC is getting better at her acting skills 😆***

The waiter nodded and faced the elevator door again.

The ride took longer than expected and it took about a minute before the elevator slowly came to a stop.

After we walked another long corridor, we finally stopped in front of a wooden door. The waiter knocked gently on the door before pushing it away, turned around and made an inviting gesture with his hand to me.

I walked in and found that it was just an extremely normal room. There was nothing around that indicated a device to store Evol.

At the table in the middle of the room was a man who looked seventy or eighty years old, and behind him stood a very burly man.

The elderly man was very old. His thick eyelids were pulled down low, almost covering both eyes.

He raised his eyes laboriously, reached out his fingers and tapped on the table, motioning me to sit down.

I sat in front of the old man. My other hand quietly touched the anesthesia gun at my waist.

Old man: Extend your hand.

MC: Before I do that, can you tell me the process of how Evol is stored first?

MC: Even though I requested the service, I also have the right to ask how it works.

The old man didn’t speak as if he was about to fall asleep.

Man: Guest, your hand is part of the process.

The man behind him replied in a low voice and walked to my side with a sense of unspeakable oppression.

MC: …

Man: Guest, is there a problem?

??: The problem is you.

An intense silver light appeared behind the man like a ghost and the chilling light made those blue eyes look even colder.

Almost instantaneously, his question was interrupted by the sound of broken bones in the air.

The swift figure resembled a crescent silver moon, leaving traces like a shadow.

The man was unresponsive as if he didn’t care about his slightly twisted arm. A silver pillar made iron steel condensed in the palm of his hand and he swung it at Helios.

Helios pulled out two handles from behind his waist. The knife blades clashed against the silver pillar, making a harsh rubbing sound.

At the same time, I immediately grabbed the stiff and somewhat lethargic old man and hid off to the side.

This old man is definitely a certain key and we can’t let him get injured here.

I can’t help much at this time but at least I won’t hinder Helios.

A look of surprise flashed in the man’s eyes. After thinking for a bit, he waved his hand and countless small, silver needles appeared in the air, shooting them straight at Helios.

Only the silver light is no longer there.

In the moment of confusion, Helios had already appeared behind him. The cold knife reflecting the man’s terrified eyes.

Helios: Fool.

There was not even a scream but a faint voice came.

Helios held the dagger and walked towards the old man with a blank face, covering most of the light in the room, looking at him condescendingly.

Helios: I don’t have time for nonsense.

Helios: Who are you?

[Little Star]

The old man shivered at the figure shining in the cold light, breathless with fear.

Old man: Don’t kill me. I, I was threatened….

He opened his mouth blankly, ready to say something.

All of a sudden, the air around him instantly became distorted, gradually swallowing his body and began to dissipate like a bubble.

In the middle of disappearing, the old man tried hard to hold onto Helios’ hand.

But it only passed through his body.

Old man: Please, you….must help me….

In the silent room, there was only a trembling echo, as if the old man was never there.

I stared blankly at what was happening, a bit in disbelief.

MC: Helios, he’s…

Helios: Leave here first.

As he said that, he stretched out his hand to pull me.

Suddenly, the floor under our feet began to shake, and an inexplicable sense of dizziness filled my entire brain which caused me to lean back.

Helios: MC!

A black line ran across us suddenly like a crack. I stretched out my hand and in my peripheral vision, I saw Helios preparing to jump—

In the next second, the entire space seemed to rotate violently and the huge inertia forced me to slam into the wall on my right.

The scenery in front of me is like a pop-up book that has been quickly flipped through, continuously changing and becoming blurry.

I curled up in pain. The heavy pain constantly eroding my willpower.

MC: Helios…

I feel like I lost consciousness.

Under the night sky, in the center of the fountain with exquisite patterns, water gushed out of the nozzle from the statue.

A man was sitting on a recliner by the fountain, looking at a Rubik’s Cube suspended diagonally in the air.

He raised his head, staring alertly at the old man sitting on the ground.

??: You’re really going to cause trouble for me.

While he said this, the man’s eyes flashed with excitement and madness, his fingers shaking.

The Rubik’s Cube began to flicker with strange lights and flipped over.

??: But I also see that he’s been quite the eyesore for a long time. I can finally crush him now, right?

Helios: ….

Helios: ….MC.

Helios: Kilo, display location.

Amongst the chaos, I vaguely heard an extremely anxious and nervous voice reach my ears.

Helios: Damn it.

Helios: MC!! Can you hear me?!

I opened my eyes slowly and my body felt like it was falling apart. I wanted to lift my right arm to prop myself up, but immediately felt the sharp pain.

The scene in front me seemed to be split with half of it that was the room I was previously in and the other half a dense bamboo forest.

MC: ….I can hear you.

As soon as I made a sound, the rapid breathing in my ear seemed to stop for a moment.

Helios: Are you hurt anywhere?

I smiled bitterly, pulled myself and sat in a corner, trying hard to stand up.

MC: It seems that I hit arm when I crashed into the wall.

Although it was very painful that I wanted to cry, I managed to make my voice not sound so weak.

Helios: …Does it hurt?

His voice was very soft, with some far-off and familiar tenderness in it, making my nose tingle instantly.

For a while, I was a little confused, either from the intense pain or the softness that I hadn’t heard for a long time.

***If you choose the top answer: “It hurts”***

MC: ….It hurts.

MC: *sniffles*….It really hurts.

I couldn’t hold back the emotions surging in my heart and the grievances I had suppressed also came pouring out.

Helios: …Don’t cry.

I rarely heard his voice sound so flustered. It sounds just like the bewildered boy in my memory.

***If you choose the bottom answer: “It doesn’t hurt”***

MC: I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.

I was full of vigor and laughed, holding my arm. Gritting my teeth, tears came from my eyes unconsciously.

MC: What about you? Are you okay...?

Helios: MC.

On the other side of the line, Helios interrupted me smoothly.

Helios: The sound of your tears falling on the ground is loud.

I blinked, pressed my mouth, and vigorously wiped the tears with the back of my hand.

MC: How can that be...

A soft laugh came to my ears, like a feather, warming my heart.

Helios: I will be by your side soon so don’t cry.

MC: Then sing to me and I’ll stop.

Helios: ….

As soon as I spoke, I heard the sound of heavy objects rolling along the ground.

The sound of the wind kept passing by and Helios seemed to be running quickly, with a slight gasp from time to time.

My heart lurched suddenly and I felt a bad premonition rise up.

MC: What happened to you…..? Are you in some dangerous space again?

After a moment of silence, Helios replied with an answer that was completely irrelevant to my question.

Helios: What do want to hear me sing?

I was stunned. The whistling sound in my ear continued.

MC: It doesn’t matter. You must ensure your safety first!

Helios: How about “Little Star” (aka “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star)?

MC: ….

The sound of the heavy objects rolling was getting closer and closer in my ears as if they wanted to run him over.

In the huge roar, a leisurely singing voice rang in my ears.

Helios: Twinkle twinkle, little star….

Helios: How I wonder what you are.

Those loud noises seemed to be shielded by a transparent film and only his faint singing voice remained in the whole world.

Gentle and firm.

His singing was mixed with rapid breaths and at this moment, it was like a soft embrace that enveloped me in it.

When the last melody descended softly, the chilling sound of a dagger being thrown ended the roar altogether and the world fell silent.

Helios: Don’t cry anymore.

His uncertain questions made me rub my eyes dumbfoundedly.

MC: Amazing, it doesn’t hurt anymore.

A soft laugh came from my ear and I seemed to be able to imagine his helpless smile.

MC: Helios, where do I go?

Helios: You’re injured so stay where you are.

MC: My hand is fine! Although I still don’t understand the operating structure of this space….

MC: But if we both head in the same direction, it will definitely be quicker!

Helios: ….

MC: Let’s go together.

I straightened up, looked at the door I front of me and said firmly to him.

The silent sound of running and the “whoosh” of a knife blade rushed into my ears. I quietly waited for his response.

Helios: Alright.

Helios: Let’s do it.

He let out a long sigh of relief, without saying a word, as if looking for our next route.

Helios: Open the door behind you.

Helios: Walk slowly.

MC: Roger!

I held out my arm and opened the door without hesitation in accordance with his instructions and strode inside.

I looked around and found myself standing on the stairs of an abandoned building. His voice immediately came to my ears.

Helios: Go up and push open the door on the top floor.

I turned and moved precisely according to his directions.

Obviously we are far apart from each other, but he knows where I am at this moment. It felt like he was right beside me.

I opened the door and was greeted by the bright sun shining in my eyes.

Taking a look, I found myself standing on the roof of a bell tower.

Helios: Grab hold of something. The Rubik’s Cube is about to turn.

I reacted instinctively and immediately grabbed a heavy rope after hearing his words.

Right afterwards, the familiar feeling of inversion came and I closed my eyes and held onto the rope tightly, waiting for the rotation to stop.

Soon the world returned back to normal. I opened my eyes and found that the scene in front of me hadn’t changed much.

***THIS IS SO INSANE AND I LOVE IT!!!***

Helios: Is your arm okay?

MC: No worries!

He was quiet for a while as if deciding on something.

Helios: MC, jump down.

I couldn’t help being startled, moving my feet and looking down.

The bell tower extends into the clouds. Thick clouds hang in the air and the howling wind beats against me, constantly reminding me of how high the bell tower is.

Breathing deeply, I climbed to the edge of the clock tower.

Helios: You can also wait for me to come see you.

He seemed to guess what I was thinking and his tone was softer than before.

MC: It’s no good if only one person is doing all the running.

After speaking, I took a deep breath and jumped.

The light, shadow and wind rushed past my ears, but I didn’t have the slightest timidness in my heart.

Because I know that this can get me a little bit closer to him. ***YES!!! THAT’S MY GIRL!!! GO TO YOUR MAN!!!😭😭😭 KIRO AND MC RUNNING TOWARDS EACH OTHER HENCE THE REASON WHY THE KARMA IS CALLED “RUN TO YOU” 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕

As I continued to fall, the space on the ground became distorted again until finally forming a door.

On the other end of the gate is a net woven with countless colorful soft bands which safely stopped my fall.

I steadied my heartbeat and looked up to find that this was a trampoline.

Sponges of different shapes were staggered and stacked and there was a door on the diving platform directly above.

MC: Helios, there’s a door on the platform not far away. Should I go there?

Helios: MC, go…

His voice became sporadic until a harsh electric static rang out and then nothing.

MC: Helios….?

I called his name but I didn’t hear any response.

MC: Did the communication get interrupted?

I looked at the door in the distance, thinking about what Helios didn’t finish saying.

Does he want me to go there? Or does he want me to choose another door?

I pursed my mouth, looked around, and found that there were several identical doors in the distance.

I hesitated and finally my eyes came back to the door on the diving platform.

Inexplicable intuition told me that he wanted me to go through this door.

MC: Take a gamble.

I stood up, climbed onto the platform, and grabbed the upper door handle—

Then, I was met by an endless stream of cars whizzing past me.

[End of Part 3]

This chapter is crazy!!! So much excitement, action, and sweet moments between Kiro and MC!!! My heart!!!🥺💕

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #translations #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #mlqc season 2 #kiro #kiro spoilers #kiro season 2 #helios #helios spoilers #helios season 2 #love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mr love dream date #mldd

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simplyswooningk · 4 years ago

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Fanfiction Teaser: The Strategist| Coming April 2021 to FF.net and A03 | Chapter One, “The Professor & The Madman”

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ron and Hermione

Premise: Begins Post Half-Blood Prince. “Wars are not for children,” Arthur said with a deep sigh.

“It’s a good thing I’m not a kid anymore, isn’t it, Dad?”

The Strategist

“War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”-J.R.R Tolkien

“The Minstrel-Boy to the War has gone! In the ranks of death, you will find him. His father’s sword he hath girded on and his wild harp slung behind him. ‘Land of song,’ said the warrior-bard, ‘Though all the world betrays thee. One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard. One faithful harp shall praise thee.’”-Thomas Moore

One:

The Professor & The Madman

Ronald Weasley had never seen Hogwarts so silent. The place seemed frozen, stuck, dead. He shuddered at his train of thought. It had been barely an hour since Albus Dumbledore, largely regarded as the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had ever known, had been laid to rest.

His murderer, Professor Snape, was gone, had left like the ruddy coward he was along with the rest of the Death Eaters. Snape had never been anywhere near Ron’s favorite teacher, but he never could have imagined anything like this. To make matters worse, Dumbledore had trusted Snape. That mistake had cost him everything.

Ron found himself sitting on the Quidditch Pitch. It was empty, no one had a thought for Quidditch. The days of worrying about his Keeper abilities and how to pass his N.E.W.T.S seemed as far away as his life before Hogwarts.

His parents were catching up with old friends, but they had announced that they would be leaving in two hours, his mother was especially was eager for him and Ginny to be at home. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he wouldn’t be staying long.

Dumbledore had given Harry Potter a mission. You Know Who had a secret, several of them it seemed, and they had to find them all and destroy them. Horcruxes.

He, Harry and Hermione Granger were setting off a mission to find and destroy each of those Horcruxes. Seven of them. Two had already been dispensed. And one would only be gone when He Who Must Not Be Named popped his clogs for good.

Apparently, they could be anything. One they knew about. It was the locket of Slytherin. But who knew where they would find that?

And then there was this mysterious R.A.B character who had somehow stolen the locket. No one had the foggiest idea who he was. So, they were heading headlong into disaster without a clue as to what to do.

He honestly shouldn’t have been surprised. After his first year at Hogwarts, having to deal with a giant, living chess set and then a murderous diary, a violent tree and a killer snake in his second had pretty much taught him to be prepared for anything.

There was a part of him that wanted to just go home. A part of him that wanted spend a quiet summer at home, go to Hogwarts for his seventh year and start life in the real world.

But he knew he was kidding himself. With Dumbledore gone and You-Know-Who gaining ground every second, if they didn’t end it, there wouldn’t be a real world. So, he would fight. There was nothing to do but fight. He knew Hermione felt the same way, but if he could’ve kept her away from it all, he would. More than anything, he wanted to keep her safe.

Harry had disappeared somewhere off with Ginny, and although he had had his reservations about their relationship, there were far worse guys for his only sister to date. Although she couldn’t have picked a more troublesome bloke.

Then again, Ginny had always liked trouble. She'd be coming back to school next year. Ron couldn’t imagine what Hogwarts would be like without Dumbledore.

He looked up to the window where the old Headmaster’s office had been. It was hard to imagine anyone else ever being there.

Hs eyes fell to the window where Potions class was. Snape had taught there, pretending that he wasn’t a Death Eater, pretending that he could be trusted. The whole thing made him want to vomit and then punch something.

And then he thought of Slughorn. He apparently had written a fucking book for Voldemort: How To Make A Horcrux: A Guide for Fucking Demented Psychopaths. His mother had often told him that not all Slytherins were evil, but the whole lot of them seemed to be nothing but trouble.

But then again, if he’d wrote the book, he might have the answers.

He made his way back into the castle, grabbed the Marauder's Map from Harry’s trunk and searched for Slughorn’s name. He was in a part of the castle Ron had never ventured. But there was no time for trepidation now.

He made his way to the Teacher’s Wing. He found himself outside Slughorn’s quarters. He knocked, but there was no answer. Normally, he would’ve turned away, but it was no time to waste on civilities.

He walked in. “Professor? Professor Slughorn?”

He heard some shuffling about and he instantly reached for his wand. These days, no one could be too careful.

“Oh, Mr. Wemby!” Ron fought the urge not to roll his eyes. This man literally had taught generations of his entire fucking family and he couldn’t remember his last name. It wasn’t as if they all bore a strong family resemblance and had the same hair color.

Oh, wait a second, it was.

What made it worse was that he’d nearly died because of Slughorn and a box of Love Potion-tainted chocolate cauldrons.

“How are you, my boy? Avoiding more poisonings, I hope?”

“Doing my best, sir,” Ron said with a smile. “If I might have a word?”

“Certainly, my boy,” said the aged professor and Ron noted that he took a rather pointed look at his hourglass. “Although I am in quite of a hurry.”

“You’re leaving Hogwarts?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t dare. Now, with everything that’s happened. You-Know-Who will come for this place, I guarantee you. Someone will have to help watch over the students. No, I was just heading down to the greenhouses. With Death Eaters knocking on every corner, there’s a couple of plants that I should like to have on hand.”

Ron nodded and squared his shoulders. “Well, I won’t take up too much of your time, sir. Sir, I’m aware of what you gave Harry about...You-Know-Who.”

Ron watched the professor’s face go white. “Sir, believe, I’m not here to give you a hard time about it,” he said quickly. “I just want your help with something.”

Professor Slughorn’s back straightened. "I've already given Harry everything.” His voice was stiff and dismissive, but Ron didn’t have time to get upset.

“I know. But I was just wondering, is there anything else you know that might be helpful. You see, Harry’s going to try and destroy all of the Horcruxes. That’s right, he did make Horcruxes, sir. Six of them, apparently. I'm going with Harry. Me and Ms. Granger. Is there anything you know that may be able to help us? Anything about Horcruxes, anything about You-Know-Who. Dumbledore said you were his favorite teacher.”

The professor scoffed. “Ah yes, my claim to fame. The favorite teacher of the Darkest Wizard our world has ever known. What a nice epithet that will be, I’m sure. Of course, Harry would go for the Horcruxes. He’s Dumbledore’s man through and through.” Slughorn turned thoughtful for a moment. “That may not always be a good thing, mind you. Sit down, Weatherby.”

Ron did as he was told.

“I really shouldn’t tell you much,” the professor began. “It would be quite... well, I suppose none of that will even matter.” He sighed and Ron thought he was looking at a man who was clearly at war with himself.

“I’ve often thought about that night, the night I told him about some of the darkest magic known to Wizarding kind. I believed his curiosity natural, admirable. How wrong I was. The first thing you ought to know is that none of the items will be insignificant. They'll be things that were important to him. But they’ll also be things considered magically significant. He likes power, he like things connected with the past. Dumbledore—,” his voice caught briefly as he mentioned the old Headmaster, “may have told you as much. And his favorite place is this school. It is the only place he ever felt at home.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Do you think one of the objects is here, sir?”

“Well, there could be no better hiding place, could there?”

“Sir, do you know how to destroy one?”

Slughorn sighed. “I have never learned the spell to create one. But a good wizard is curious about such things. But only curious. What I can tell you is that making horcruxes is not an easy business, my boy. Destroying them is far, far worse. There's only a couple of things in the world that can do so and most of them will kill a wizard just as easily. Basilisk venom, for one. I don’t think I need to tell how hard that is to come by. And no, I haven’t got any. If I did, I'd give it to you. There’s also Fiendfyre. It’ll destroy the Horcrux but if you’re not careful, it’ll take you right out with it. And then there is a Potion.”

“A Potion?”

Slughorn nodded. “Horcruxes, my boy, can be anything. Including flesh and blood. Now normally, you’d just kill the living thing and the Horcrux inside it right along with it. But, if for some reason, you want to remove the Horcrux without killing the host, there is a potion for that.”

Slughorn got up from his chair and walked back to a cupboard, shuffling about for a moment before picking out a small vial with a reddish-black liquid. He brought it back to the table and handed it to Ron.

“This is Actuscaria. It's one of the rarest potions in the world. It's incredibly tricky to make and it has about a thousand different uses, one of them is destroying Horcruxes inside of living things.”

Ron looked at the potion, fascinated, more fascinated than he’d ever been by a potion before. “How does it do that, sir?”

“Actuscaria can only be made by love.”

Ron looked at the professor, blue eyes clouded with confusion.

“As in the act of love.” Ron still looked perplexed. “As in making it, Mr. Weasley.”

Understanding dawned in Ron’s eyes, he turned bright red and eyed the bottle curiously. He was so fascinated that he didn’t realize that Slughorn finally got his blasted name right.

“But not just any act of love Mr. Weasley, the first act of love. To put it into frankly, the potion is made from the blood of a virgin witch.” Ron turned even redder, but if Slughorn noticed, he didn’t let on.

“The blood that is shed during the act of deflowering.” Ron blushed again, this time the color of a ripe tomato. “Also, the blood has to be combined with the seed of the wizard who has deflowered her. Given that she has been deflowered, this combination happens rather naturally. Also, you need the entire fingernail of each of their left hands. Combine that with three drops of phoenix tears, brewed in a cauldron made from dragon’s eggs and the fire lit only with elm wood for eight days and seven nights. But the most important part of this is that the witch and wizard must be in love. Not some childish, silly infatuation, but truthfully, truly in love or it will not work. Horcruxes are formed by murder, a violation against nature. But the act of love, true love at its purest is the very affirmation of nature. It’s Old Magic, you see, nothing more powerful. Guard it, Mr. Weasley, with your life. Even if you never have cause to use it, it’s worth five times its weight in gold.”

Ron reached out a slightly trembling hand to grasp the potion. It seemed so unremarkable, so ordinary. It didn’t look revolting like Polyjuice or deadly like Night of the Living Death.

“Thank you, Professor...for everything,” Ron said, standing up. “I’ll need to finish packing.”

Professor Slughorn nodded and Ron began to walk away. Right before, he reached the door, he turned around.

“Professor, is there anything, anything else at all that you can tell me?”

The aged potions master looked up from his desk. “Yes. Godspeed, my boy. Godspeed.”

Ron nodded. That wasn’t terribly helpful but he knew he meant well. Which considering the circumstances, was probably the most anyone could do.

“Mr. Weasley,” the professor called out before Ron had reached the back of the classroom. “Before you go, if you have a moment, feel free to take whatever you’d like from the Potions Storeroom. If you’re going to try and stop...him, you never know what you may need.”

Ron nodded and with one final farewell, he left the Good Professor to ponder that one fateful conversation. Ron had learned this year how much damage one action could cause.

As he headed back to Gryffindor Tower, he thought of everything the Professor had told him. Was it possible He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had hidden a Horcrux at Hogwarts? He didn’t pretend to know how the psycho thought, he left that up to Harry.

But if you were going to hide something you never wanted anyone to find, where else would you hide it?

He arrived in the Gryffindor common room, which was all but deserted. Hermione was sitting on the couch her legs propped up on her trunk, clearly deep in thought.

He was supposed to meet his parents and Ginny in the Great Hall in a hour and a half. Hermione would be coming with them and then taking the Floo Network back to her house.

She looked sad, she looked worried. She looked beautiful. All he wanted to do was hold her.

It hadn’t been the best year for their friendship. Theirs had always been a friendship of push and pull. But the past year, there wasn’t any pushing, only pulling away.

He honestly didn’t know where it had all gone wrong. Okay, so he did.

Jealousy, immaturity, insecurity, Ginny’s goading, Lavender’s sudden attention, Quidditch fears and Quidditch glory; it had been a toxic cocktail.

They were back on good terms finally. Near death experiences tended to make people forget pettiness. It was nice to know that they could never really be angry with each other. He never doubted her being there when it counted. He hoped she thought the same.

But that was part of the problem...he didn’t know what she thought...of him. He could read her moods like the back of his hand, could tell when she was angry, moody, stressed. He knew how to piss her off like nobody else. But he hadn’t quite worked out how to make her happy.

He had just begun to realize that was what he wanted to do, possibly, probably, definitely more than he wanted anything else.

Denial had long been his picked poison when it came to his feelings for Hermione, but now, now he didn’t want to hide them anymore. But there were a million reasons he had to.

There were a lot of things unsaid. It didn’t make sense to say them now, not when the whole world was at stake. If they lived, there would be time to say it all. But of course, that was a very big if.

“Hey,” she said with the smallest of smiles. He returned her smile and came to sit beside her.

“Where’s Ginny?” he asked. “Mum and Dad are going to be in Hogsmeade in an hour.”

“She’s down at Hagrid’s...with Harry. I think she wants to spend as much time with as she can.”

Ron nodded and then shook his, not needing that particular image in his head. Harry had been his best friend for the better part of six years, but still there were just some things one didn’t want to imagine about their little sister.

“How are you?” he asked. “I mean, really?”

Hermione shrugged. “Fair,” she responded. “It’s a lot to do. A lot to plan. I’ll be coming to the Burrow next week.”

“So soon?” he asked. Not that he minded. But Hermione usually didn’t come to the Burrow until the last week of summer.

“Yes,” she said rather quickly and he got the distinct feeling that there was something she wasn’t saying. “Is that all right?” she asked, brown eyes searching his.

He turned red. “Of course. Of course, it’s all right. I just thought that maybe with everything that’s going on, you’d want to spend more time at home...with your folks.”

Hermione shrugged. “With everything that’s going on, I'd love to never leave home. But that’s not really an option, is it? No use in prolonging the inevitable.”

“Have you thought of what you’re going to tell them?”

Hermione didn’t answer for a long moment and then just shook her head. “I don’t know how to have that conversation. But in any event, have you thought of what you’re going to tell Mrs. Weasley? That's the real dangerous one, isn’t it?”

Ron, despite his worry and trepidation, laughed. “You’re right about that one,” he said with a grin. She grinned back and for a moment, everything was okay.

“We’ll be okay, Hermione,” he told her with confidence he couldn’t quite justify.

She scoffed slightly. “You sound certain.”

“Well, you’re coming, aren’t you?”

She smiled, the first one he could remember seeing that reached her eyes in a long while. Then he remembered his conversation with Slughorn.

“I went to speak to Slughorn,” he said. “To see if he knew anything that could help us.”

Hermione frowned at that. “Ron, we’re not supposed to tell anyone! You could put him in danger.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Hermione, for Merlin’s sake, Harry already told him something. And in case you didn’t notice, all of us are already in fucking danger.”

Hermione bit her lower lip and exhaled loudly, the way she always did when he was correct and she didn’t want to admit it. “Well, what did he say?” she asked finally a long pause.

Ron proceeded to say tell her the gist of his conversation with Slughorn. Although, he left out the part of the instructions for Actuscaria. There were some things he just didn’t feel comfortable talking about. Not with her.

Besides, Hermione being Hermione, she would, at some point, look up the recipe anyway.

“Basilisk venom,” she said once Ron had finished his story. “Where on earth are we going to find Basilisk venom?”

Ron thought for a moment. “I know where. Come on,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. They had no time to waste.

He dismissed the way his heart was beating as nerves and anticipation and not having anything to do with the way her hand felt in his. No, that had nothing to do with it at all.

They stood there for the briefest of seconds, hand-in-hand, eyes searching into another and for a second, the never-ending fast-fowarding tape that had been their experience at Hogwarts seemed to pause.

But that moment, like all moments akin to it, ended too quickly.

“We’ve got to hurry,” Ron said blinking rapidly, breaking the intensity of their eye contact.

“You mind telling me where we’re going?” Hermione asked as they raced down the steps of Gryffindor Tower.

“Girls’ lavatory on the second floor.”

“What?” Hermione asked as she ran beside him, their hands still tightly clasped.

“Chamber of Secrets,” he said in a hushed whisper though the halls were nearly deserted.

They got there in record time. Ron had never known it to be so easy to sneak around Hogwarts. Without Dumbledore’s presence, nothing felt safe.

He didn’t like that feeling. Hogwarts’ had been his family’s home from home for centuries. Despite everything he had been through in his six years there, he had never felt truly, truly at risk.

Of course, the Ministry would do everything they could to keep everyone safe. But if he was going to judge by the stories Bill had told him about the early days of the First War, he wasn’t exactly filled with confidence.

But now wasn’t the time for his fears to get the better of him.

He gripped her hand tighter as they entered into the bathroom and found themselves facing the row of sinks.

He felt for the Snake-shaped clasp hidden since Tom Riddle had walked these halls. It felt weird doing this without Harry, he had to admit. But he had a feeling had things were going to get dicey, Harry would need all the help he could get.

“How do we get in?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Parseltongue,” Ron said as he thought back to the last time he’d been there. Parseltongue always sounded creepy and disturbing to him, but Harry mumbled it a lot in his sleep. Ron had only picked up on it subconsciously, but he hoped he had enough not to botch it.

The whispery, slithery words felt unnatural and harsh on his tongue, but it worked. The tap began to move and Hermione gasped in awe.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered as the tunnel to the Chamber of Secrets opened.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to jump,” Ron told her. “You may want to hold on.”

Hermione peered down the tunnel, eyes wide. “Hold on to what?” her voice was highly confused.

“To me,” he said motioning to his shoulders.

“Oh,” a blush crept across her face and Ron pretended he didn’t notice as he fought his own burning cheeks. Her arms wrapped around the top of his chest and he prayed that she couldn’t feel his heart beating, though he knew it was pounding.

Her little hands clasped around him, delicate and dainty but he knew what damage those hands could do. The contrast simultaneously amused and aroused him. But he shook himself of those thoughts. Focus, focus, she’s only a girl.

But of course, even as they jumped down the tunnel, he knew he was kidding himself. She was The Girl. The Girl He Wanted, The Girl He Needed, The Girl He Loved. Love?

It seemed so foreign, yet as they whooshed down the tunnel, he could think of no reason to dispel it. He loved her. When the fuck had that happened?

It was unsettling to be with the notion of love as they were sliding down a dark, creepy dangerous tunnel in preparation of an even more dangerous mission where the best-case scenario was if they won, they most likely be dead as a result.

They slid down the tunnel and Hermione rapped his shoulders tighter as their speed increased.

Ron cast a silent Cushioning Charm because the memory of barreling into hundred thousand mouse skeletons was far from his favorite thing.

They landed with a thud and Hermione’s hands instantly left Ron’s shoulders. He was surprised by how instantly he felt the loss of her touch and how much he longed for it again.

“Oh, my God,” Hermione said as she looked around. There was rubble, dust and ash everywhere.

“We’ll have to bombard our way through,” Ron told her pulling out his wand. “Three tons of rock dropped last time, so let’s be careful.”

Hermione nodded and pulled out her own wand. “I’m right behind you,” agreed with a grin.

He took her hand in his. “If we need to make a quick exit, Side-Long Apparation?”

She nodded and they pressed forward until they reached the Chamber Door.

Another round of Parseltongue from Ron later, the door opened and they found themselves in a room which they had only heard about secondhand from Harry and Ginny.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” Hermione asked as they entered the Chamber.

Ron pulled a look. “Are you serious?” he asked. “Yes, I've spent my free learning the secret language of psychos.”

“Not all Slytherins are evil, Ronald.”

“Name one you like.”

He had her there. She gave no answer and merely shrugged.

They both paused when their eyes fell upon the basilisk skeleton.

“Bloody hell,” whistled Hermione as she took the whole thing in.

“Hey don’t sweat it. It's dead. We’ve got living monsters to worry about. What's that Shakespeare quote you always say, ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here’?”

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. “I said that once three years ago. You remember that?”

Ron colored slightly and shrugged in reply. “I guess. Let’s get the fangs.”

He started to kneel down, reaching to grab a fang.

“Ron, wait! We should remove those with magic. What if you accidentally scratched yourself?”

Ron had jumped back at her words. “Oh, right. Brilliant, you are.”

She smiled at that and pulled out her wand. They carefully magically removed twelve basilisk fangs from the remains of the vicious snake. Hermione conjured up a backpack for them to place them in.

“You know, Ron,” Hermione said as she zipped up the backpack. “This is going to be really dangerous what we’re doing.”

He nodded, as she rose to stand right in front of him. “Have you thought about it, if we don’t make it?”

She nodded and then shrugged, though he thought he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “I have. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? What matter is—,”

“Harry,” he finished for her. “Harry has to make it through. That's what the prophecy said.”

Hermione sniffled. “Harry,” she agreed. “God, if I had known that we may not be coming back next here, that we may not be coming back at all, I would’ve done so much so differently.”

He looked at her for a long moment, wondering if she was talking about what he thought.

He looked down at his shoes. “Me too,” he began rather meekly. He lifted his face to meet hers again and smiled. “I think about all that time I spent worrying about Quidditch. Like that matters now.”

“Ron, I’m sorry about the birds, if I never apologized for that before.”

He grinned. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that. “Thanks,” he said honestly. “I’m sorry about...everything.” Although, he couldn’t remember what he apologizing for. But he figured it was best to cover the bases.

She chuckled lightly. “You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, do you?”

He shook his head, amused by her ability to see right through him. “Not really, no. But I figured it couldn’t hurt. I'm sorry about Lavender.”

She shook her head. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault she fancied you. I just overreacted...a bit.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A bit?”

“All right, a lot. I just I can’t believe you fancied her.”

“Well, I didn’t...I mean not really.”

“Ronald, that’s horrible.”

“I know,” he said somewhat guiltily. “It’s just she fancied me, and I guess I fancied that and before I knew it, it had gotten out of hand. Then you weren’t speaking to me—,”

Hermione scoffed. “Oh, so you were trying to stick it to me by snogging her? Real mature, that is.”

Ron found his ire rising. “Oh, and just what the fucking hell were you doing with McClaggen, then? Research into the mind of right arrogant pricks?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t!”

“Well, I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t....” he trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

But Hermione was having none of that. “If I hadn’t what, Ronald?” she folded her arms and waited and he knew she would wait. Because the only person more stubborn that him was her.

He knew he wasn’t about to admit to rational behavior, which is why he did not want to admit it.

“Ginnyutoldmeukissedkrum,” he said quickly and primarily to the floor.

“What?”

He sighed. He didn’t want to have this conversation. But maybe, just maybe, now wasn’t the time to leave things unsaid.

“Ginny told me you kissed Krum.”

Hermione blinked very fast for a few moments, the way she always did when she was thinking. She looked confused, then she looked agitated, then she looked annoyed. Very annoyed. At him.

“You mean two years ago?” she asked her voice dripping with derision.

His eyes looked at the floor again. “Well...yeah.”

“Let me get this straight: you started snogging Lavender because Ginny told you about me and Viktor?”

“Well, I started snogging Lavender because she started snogging me, but I can’t say that didn’t have something to do with it.”

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. She raked a hand through her hair. “This is all so silly. You could’ve talked to me about that, you know?”

“I can’t talk to you about him,” he said honestly. “It makes me crazy.”

“Why?!” she exploded. “Why does it drive you so mad?”

“Because,” he snapped, just as heated. “Because,” he said somewhat more calmly once he saw the look in her eyes. “I just...it’s the thought of him with you...instead...instead of me.”

He hoped he didn’t look as crestfallen or as foolish as he thought he sounded. But he was sure he saw pity in her expression.

“Oh, Ron,” she said softly. She shook her head again and he knew she was thinking that he was an idiot. “You didn’t even know I was a girl back then.”

He colored. “I did. I knew you were a girl. I just didn’t know back then that you meant something to me...as a girl, you know, not just a friend.”

She blinked and her face lifted in kind of a smile. “It’s all right,” she said. “I understand.”

“You do?” he said, surprised.

She nodded. “I go red with rage when I think about you and Lav-Lav.”

“I noticed,” he said wryly thinking of birds pecking his flesh.

“You know, all this could’ve been avoided if we had only spoken to one another,” she said with a resigned sigh.

He nodded. “You’re right. You're always right.”

“Not always.” She looked

“You know if I had known if we weren’t coming back here next year, if we might not be coming back at all...I would’ve asked you to the Yule Ball. I would've gone to Slughorn’s Christmas Do. But in my defense, I didn’t know you were asking me out.”

She raised her eyebrows, but he didn’t give her a chance to respond.

“I mean maybe I thought or maybe I hoped but it doesn’t matter. The point is if I had known how high the stakes were going to get, I would’ve done a lot of things.” He took a breath, not wanting the moment to pass. “Most of all, I would’ve done this.”

He leaned forward, way, way, way forward, since compared to him, she was practically house-elf sized. He waited for her to stop him, waited for her to push him away or flee from the expanding closeness between them.

In the back of his mind, he didn’t know if he had the right to do this, after all, no admissions of feelings had passed between them. Then again, maybe when you knew each other as well as they did, words were a little less necessary.

He kept leaning until their faces were inches apart. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding dramatically.

His lips brushed against hers, softly, slowly asking a question. He thought he felt her gasp or shiver or something he couldn’t quite name. Her lips were soft and they tasted like honey. He pressed his against her lips harder, asking the question again.

She answered, her lips playing over his in return. God, he was kissing Hermione. And she was kissing him back. It was nothing like those lung-collapsing snog marathons with Lavender. It was soft and sweet and...intimate.

He dared himself to be bold, there was no point in turning back now. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She felt small and frail against him and a wave of protectiveness ran through his veins, barely reined in by his desire to keep kissing her.

Her mouth opened and suddenly her taste was everywhere, on his tongue, in his mind, in his heart. Her hands clasped around his shoulders, bringing him deeper and he heard her moan slightly.

That one, little breathy exhalation went straight to his cock. All the things he wanted to do to her rushed through his brain in a series of flashes. Suddenly his lips were on her neck, chasing the sound that fell from her lips. Her skin was feather-soft against his lips and all he wanted to do was mark it, claim it as his own.

His lips lingered on a spot underneath her chin which caused another raspy moan, louder than the one before to fall from her lips.

Ron felt himself harden, and they were close enough where he knew she could feel it. Something in the back of his mind told him to stop, but he couldn’t. He was addicted to having her in his arms, on his skin, and the sounds and shudders she made as he touched her. His lips sought hers again for another deep, nearly bruising kiss.

His hands began to roam up her waist, she shifted closer to him, her foot kicking the backpack. One of the basilisk fangs fell out and clattered to the ground.

That one sound snapped Hermione back into reality. She pulled her lips away abruptly. Her hands left his shoulders and she moved an inch away.

Ron’s eyes shut open, afraid that he had gone too far, pushed past the limit. He waited for to say something. Waited for the inevitable heartbreak he knew was coming.

“We can’t do this,” she said softly.

He instantly deflated but tried to hide it. “You’re right,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound shaky. “I’m sorry, I should have never. I didn’t mean to...take advantage of you and I can’t blame you if you want to slap me or hex me or send more birds but I've still got scabs from that so if you could lay off—,”

“Ron, what are you talking about?” She looked up at him, confused. “You didn’t take advantage of me.”

They both blushed as the weight of their action sunk in.

“Soooo,” Ron tested the waters. “You don’t want to hex me?”

She laughed softly. “No, no, quite the opposite actually.”

He couldn’t help but beam at that. She placed a hand on his face, cupping his cheek. “We can’t do this...not now,” she quickly amended. “Right now, we don’t matter. The only thing that matters is—,”

“Harry,” interjected Ron. “The only thing that matters right now is Harry. Harry has to make it through.”

She dropped her hand from his face and matching sad, resigned smiles crossed their faces.

“We could die,” Ron said briefly. He wasn’t sad, or even upset about it. He knew it was a fact.

Hermione nodded. “We could. But that really doesn’t matter either, does it?” She shook her, frustration clouding her features. “You know, this year was a waste. When I think that we could’ve just...”

“Spent all year snogging,” Ron suggested for her. No use in beating around the bush anymore

She rolled her eyes. “You did spend half the year snogging.”

Ron shrugged sheepishly. “Well, yeah, but she wasn’t you.” He enjoyed the smile on her face at his words.

“Are you scared?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not of dying. I’m more scared of what’ll happen if we don’t win. But I was scared of dying before I lived.”

“You’re not anymore?” she seemed surprised.

“Nope,” he said with a rakish grin. “I’ll get to remember the last five minutes for as long as I live. So, if You-Know-Who pops my clogs tomorrow, that’d be all right.”

She laughed. “You’re impossible.”

Ron grinned. “Yes, and you love me.” He had meant it as a joke, it was supposed to be a joke. But she didn’t laugh. She just stared into his eyes for a long pause.

When she did speak, her was clear and earnest. “I do.”

He felt like he’d gotten hit with a Stunning jinx. But then she was staring up at him with her huge brown eyes, a hint of fear at the edges and he realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“I do too,” he said quickly. She smiled and reached for his hand again, their fingers intertwined.

A long, sincere beat passed between the two of them. But it ended all too soon. “So, if we win and we don’t die,” she said an edge of humor. “Can I get one of your Weasley sweaters?”

He laughed. “You can have them all.”

“And your Quidditch jersey?”

“Let’s not get carried away,” he said, mockingly scandalized.

They stared at each other again and All Ron wanted to do was kiss her again. He thought she was thinking the same thing too, but she looked away.

“We’ve got to go. Your parents will be ready to leave soon.”

He nodded. She was right. “Yeah, yeah, we should. Oh, I totally forgot. Slughorn said we should go to the Storeroom, pick out whatever we think we may need.”

Hermione went straight into Hermione mode. “Ronald, why didn’t you say so? We haven’t got all day, have we? Let's go!”

She picked up the backpack, shrunk it down and stuck it in her pocket.

“Ronald, come on!” she beckoned him forward and out of the Chamber.

Despite everything, the danger they were in, the uncertainty of the future, and the deranged, powerful psychopath who wanted to destroy everything he held dear, all he could think of was if and when he’d ever kiss her again.

#fanfction #hp #hermione granger #ron weasley #romione #post-hpb #teaser

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cherripeach · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is "I have the power of god and anime on my side, don't mess with me," and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it.Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Prologue 3-5: I wanna take a nap

Chapter Summary: Was everyone in this school an evil bratty child or was it just you?

Warnings: jokes about death(I think) and committing crimes and curse words, some sex jokes (but not the bad ones; middle school boys comments and stuff)

Words: 3.4k

Relationships: Pending twst x reader

Two boys-you assumed-were chasing after the cat, and while neither of them seemed to be very athletic, the cat really was not either. The cat kept bumping into its own fire and having to turn away, or trying to blast fire at the two chasing him and almost tripping both himself and the other two boys. The cat did end up getting chased into a corner after almost tripping the two boys, and the smaller of the two raised up a pen or pencil looking object and screamed the words “Off with your head.” The only thing that passed through your mind was that you need to get out of here.

After the boy screamed, a red light appeared from the top of the pen and was soon directed straight toward the cat. The cat horror-struck backed up as far as he could and even climbed a few inches up the wall to move away from the beam of light heading toward it. The beam smacked the cat into the wall and caused him to fall from his position onto his butt and falter in any movement. Once the light cleared, there was an obvious difference in the cat’s appearance. A red and white collar had shown up around his neck, and the cat still dazed to notice it screamed out, “Nughab! The heck is this thing?”

You mumbled out, “Kinky…”

“Law of the Queen of Hearts Number 23: ‘One shall never bring a cat into a festival.’ You being a cat means you’ve broken the rule. I shall have you leave at once,” Here we have another member of the crowd who also thought the creature was a cat, but apparently, this disappointed child also has the numbers of the rules for something memorized, and that threw you off. He straightened himself once he noticed that the cat was caught within the collar and put his pen away in his coat that you just noticed everyone was wearing.

You surveyed yourself to see what you were wearing and realized that it was the same thing, only leading your mind to one conclusion: “This has to be some kind of cult…” you mumbled the phrase so that anyone close by could not question your thought process, but this school and world just happened to get worse and weirder the more you looked around.

“...I'ma burn this collar right up and... ehhh I can’t use my fire!” You caught the rest of the cat’s declaration, and both him and you were in absolute awe for what the collar had apparently accomplished.

“Hmph!” The disappointed child straightened his back even more and tilted his face up toward the ceiling a little, “You won’t be using any magic until I remove the collar. Just like an ordinary cat”.

“Whh-what? I’m not some pet!” The cat was having none of it. He was clawing at the collar on his neck and pulling it as much as he could just sitting in place next to the wall in his time out corner.

“Don’t worry, I’d never keep a pet like you,” the kid really just can’t help himself can he, “I’ll take it off anyway when you get thrown out.” He turned away from the cat and began to walk back to the center of the room where the sus headmaster in the top hat who for a weird second kinda reminded you of Willy Wonka stood and fumed over the past events.

Once the kid began walking, the other male chasing the cat spoke up, “Wow, as wonderful as ever. Any and all magic gets sealed by your Unique Magic, Riddle,” the male even threw his arms out to match his display of amazement only to pull them pack in a second later to place one hand on his chin while the other held his elbow to his chest to allow the male to mutter some words to himself. The taller male then pivoted around and sauntered to follow the smaller male. Both of them held this formal air covered in arrogance, and you wanted nothing to do with either of them.

The end of their conversation must have halted the top hat headmaster because he straightened himself up and glanced at the crowd only pausing his eye movement when they reached you. He kept both of his eyes on you while he strode over to your wall. Your day could apparently get worse.

“You must do something about this! It is your familiar!” the man made hand gestures to point at you in his furry, and you decided that maybe now is the time you should speak up.

“Sir, with all due respect, stop assuming things,” this man was worse than some teenagers and teachers you have met, so you shut him up, “Please tell me when I told you that he was my familiar,” your flicked your hands and continued, “whatever that is, because I am clearly lost.”

“So it’s not yours?” The man put his hand to his chin and closed his eyes either to calm himself down or figure everything out.

“Yep. Never seen it before it asked me to strip” Please let this man listen for once.

“Ah, um You did.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, let's get it out of the school. We won't turn you into a stew. For I am gracious. Someone help, please.”

Several of the students crowded around the cat until finally two came out holding the cat who was yelling the entire time. He was a little too desperate to just stay in this school.

You broke off from the masked man’s lecture for a second until another voice joined the conversation.

“That’s not different from usual, is it?” You were lost as one of the taller of the five males from earlier spoke up. He was a half furry, but you had no clue what that was called again and you would rather not know.

“What?” The sun graced everyone with its presence, “Did nobody tell him about the ceremony?” His features turned into a sorrowful, sour look from his normal bright and upbeat feature; he even glanced around at all of the others who surrounded the masked male. You noticed that all of them were the five from earlier, not including the tablet.

“If you are going to complain, you should’ve done it yourself.” Another one of the tall gang of the five males spoke up; however, this one was the exact opposite of the half furry. He was incredibly put together and more breathtaking than anyone you have ever been in the same room in. The male must be the ruler of self care, even if he did give you arrogant vibes.

“Hmm. But I don’t really know anything about the guy.” The sun appeared guilty at his statement.

The people which you forgot about broke out into chatter about a man who was named something like ‘Malaus Drakconia’ or something like that, but you had no clue who he actually was or how to actually spell his name. All of the chatter stopped when another male, much smaller than most of the five males, strolled into the room through the double doors.

“I was correct. I thought he might come but ‘Malaus’ really didn't. It seems the invitation "never arrived" again.” The small male shook his head and sighed gently after entering the room.

The males in the middle all exchanged glances before two emerged: the two from before; the ones that were chasing after the cat.

“My deepest apologies. I promise, we didn't intend to exclude you.” The taller male closed his eyes and appeared apologetic.

“His aura makes it hard to approach him,” The shorter male just can’t stop himself.

You just had to butt in because no one was taking this seriously; you walked up from your wall to meet with the group in the middle, “Yo, dude that’s really not right. I mean what has he ever done wrong to ya?” Some teenagers just weren’t for you, and so you apologized to the new face that entered. “Tell the dude he has my condolences or something.”

The short new face just stared through your soul for the next couple of minutes, not blinking, but he finally did cough and twist away from you to face a group of students. “It’s not your fault child, but it is all right.” He took about three steps. “Members of the Diasomnia Dormitory can come with me… I hope this doesn't upset him.”

You in your brilliance decided to cup your mouth and scream out to the male leading the first group out, “Tell the dude that if he needs someone to talk to, I’m freeee! I hope he feels better!”

You even heard a slight chuckle from the group. And slowly all the groups left; most making eye contact with you, but you just carried on trying to think of how expensive the clothes you had one were; you rubbed the sleeve and found out that they were made of a fabric resembling silk.

Crowley, from what you remembered, sauntered up to you once the room was clear and both of you began to conjure in your head and make a conversation about what was going to happen:

“While I normally would have you leave this school, I do not know where you are from. Would you mind stepping up to the mirror to find out. There is no need to worry. The Dark Mirror will send you directly back from whence you came. Enter the Gate, and picture your home clearly in your mind... “ The male pushed you to the mirror again, and you thought of your home for as long as you could. You even heard him mumble words back and forth with the mirror when you were lost in thought.

However, a surprised noise came out of the man’s mouth and your mind buffered to process everything because both Crowley’s and the mirror’s gaze, if you would even call it that, were stuck on you.

“This is the first time this has ever happened since I became headmaster, what should I do?” You held contact with his weird mask eyes for as long as you could before you swerved your gaze to the mirror. “Are you positive that is where you are from? And that you have never heard of Twisted Wonderland, Night Raven College, anything?” He was moving closer to you at an extremely fast rate causing you to discreetly walk back to your wall.

“Yeah, sir, why would I ever lie about that? All of this seems like a weird movie for me.” You just could not believe how little this “headmaster” or whatever believed you.

“Our best option is to go to the Library and do some research. Come and join me.” Headmaster Crowley twirled around making his cloak follow his mystical movements like some fairy or evil villain and started to make his way out of the room.

You just as confused as before followed after him, wondering if anything in this world would ever make sense.

~~~~

After around an hour of scouring through books in the odd library you were in earlier, you and the headmaster both decided to take a break.

“Can you please believe me now?” You slumped in a chair and groaned as loud as you could for as late as it was and even massaged your forehead, just hoping the man would get your point.

“You are correct. There is nothing about your hometown anywhere…” The male halted his speech and glanced back at the books, “There is also a possibility you are from another world.”

“What a nice thing to say to the tired, lost teenager,” and you stopped your speech to turn to him and point at him, “That you are in charge of.” You could not believe this man, and so you deflated while he carried on with his speech.

“Did you have anything on you when you came here?”

You just shook your head and rolled your eyes out of his view.

“Do you have any identification, like a license for a magic car, name on a shoe... You appear to be empty-handed?”

Another shake and a hand placed back on your forehead, and you noticed that he was probably going to go back into one of his speeches when he stood up taller and paused speaking for a second.

“This is concerning…..My graciousness is limitless! I am a model for all educators.We had better be on our way. Let's head to the dormitory. It may be a bit old but there is a certain charm to it.” Apparently, you were going to stay in a dormitory. Always a new surprise with this man.

And you two were off again through the halls and outside to your new stay in this world, but from how terrible the place was on the outside, this was not a luxury resort.

It was a four or more story house accompanied by a broken gate guarding the house, spider webs on all of the molded dead trees, broken shutters, even broken window, and to top it off just an overall haunted vibe to the place. This was where smart, sane people in life would avoid; this was just the trap for those characters in haunted movies, and you were just hoping to find a peaceful place to sleep in it tonight.

Crowley must have caught your staring at the dorm and ushered you inside, “Right, right. Please come inside.”

You can confidently say that the inside of the dorm was incredibly worse than the outside; the streets might be a better option if you took into account all of the health hazards in just this room alone.

Crowley did not seem to agree, “Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain.”

You hoped to interject, “Isn’t there somewhere el-”

“I'm going back to do more research. Make yourselves at home. Don't go wandering around the school! Goodbye!” This man was going to be the death of you or the reason you commit murder.

The lounge area was terrible: almost everything was broken and covered in dust, including the walls, ceiling, and floor. This area was not fit for a person to live in, and even if you tried your best it might never be.

But of course with your luck streak, Crowley saying that it would rain had to come true. “Are you kidding me now!” You threw your hands up in the air and then grabbed your head and tried not to commit arson. “Nothing is ever going to go my way here, will it?”

Thunderstruck.

“At least you are on my side…” You gazed out the cracked window expecting it to break soon.

The thunderstorm caused more problems in your new dorm than it should have. The building would shake, as would the windows, and it allowed more damage than before. However, it appears that you are not alone with a caterwaul screech from behind you.

“Hyyyi! It’s really coming down!” And located on your broken couch was the cat from before. He was apparently a gift from someone, who probably was laughing at you, for you with how often he was popping up.

“What are you doing here?” You probed in an apathetic tone as you both deadpanned and glared at the cat.

“Gyhaha! You've got this stupid look on your face like a spider being attacked by a water gun! I'll have no trouble sneaking back into school. Come on, come on. If you think getting thrown out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you've got another thing coming!” The cat gabbed just as long as the headmaster.

Your day could somehow get worse, “Honestly, I don’t care. Please don’t cause problems or I’ll kick you out.”

“Hmph. You wouldn’t understand, but I’m a genius who is destined to be a great magician! I've been waiting for the Ebony Carriage to come pick me up. But... But...Hmph! The Dark Mirror just doesn't have an eye for this.So that's why I came here on my own. Not letting me in would be a loss for the world, humans just don't get it.” This cat might be annoying, but the sob story does make you pity him a little. That is if he started acting kinder and not like an annoying pretentious kid.

Now that you look at him, he resembled a small child disappointed that they did not get what they wanted, but you had sympathy for him. He never mentioned a family or had anyone who cared about around him. He seemed lonely. He wanted to get into school which honestly you don’t know why anyone would want to go to school, but people had their priorities.

A water droplet hit the cat, “Nyaa! So cold! The roof is leaking!”

Another drop.

“Fgyaa! It keeps coming! My adorable ear fire is gonna go out at this rate!” He pulled down his ears closer to his eyes and met your gaze.

“Fine, fine. I’ll get a bucket..” You uttered going to look around the building and ignored any more retorts the cat came up with.

You exited the living room and entered a hallway with a flight of stairs going up, and the rest of the house mirrored the living room and outside by how disgusting and hazardous it is. There was even a gigantic spider web spreading the top of the hallway, and the wallpaper was coming off and covered in mold.

“This is a great time for the first kill in a horror movie,” in this situation talking to yourself helped calm you down.

That is until three ghosts appear. All of different sizes and heights, and they look incredibly familiar like from a movie or something.

“Hihihihi…. Ihihihihi…We haven't had a guest in so long...I'm itching for some action. Ihihihihi!” Frozen in your spot, you watched as the ghosts chuckled and floated closer to you.

“Um, sorry, but like…. What?” You became more disoriented as the day went on., and this topped the cake.

The cat was not on your wavelength and followed you out of the living room and into the hallway only to freeze at the sight of the three ghosts.

“Gyaaaaaaaa!!!! G-g-g-g-ghoooooooooooootts!!” The cat bawled before he darted to cling onto your cloak.

The shortest ghost found amusement out of the cat’s reaction, “The people living here got scared of us and left…”

So did the largest ghost, “We’ve been looking for more ghost pals. How about you guys?”

“Dudesss, chill down. We are not here to hurt you.” You tried to placate both the ghosts and the cat clinging onto you, but nothing ever went your way.

The cat leaped out from behind you looking as ferocious as a duckling, “Grim, the Great Magician, isn't scared of some ghosts!!!” and blew fire at the wall, “Punahhh ~ ~ ~ nnn!!”

The ghosts were having fun with the cat as the tall one asked “Where are you aiming?” and the largest one ran around the hallway area chanting “Over here, over here!”

Apparently Grim-the cat- was actually taking this seriously or did not like getting teased, “Shoot! Stop disappearing!” He continued to blast fire in all directions, most not even where the ghosts were.

You were not going to put up with his attitude so you made a deal with him wanting him to either shut up or do his job right, “Grim or whatever, either you get a move on and listen to me or I’ll tell the headmaster that you are here so that a red collar can be placed on you again and get you kicked out on the streets.”

“Ughhhh, buttt.. I’m a genius.” Grim ran around the area but paused as another ghost came up behind him. “Bunch of cowards ganging up on us! Fine,” Grim circled around to face you, “tell me where the ghosts are!”

“To your left!” Helping Grim would never be easy, but you somehow made it work.

“I hit it! Alright, let’s get them all outta here!” Like a child, he bounced over the fact that he did something right.

And like a child you could not wait to take a nap.

~~~~~

um like exams such so there was that, but thanks for reading and I hope you have a nice day! Next chapter should be out around Monday or so.. maybe.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst grim #twst crowley #dire crowley #twst #disney twst #twst x reader

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lumos-solemn · 4 years ago

Text

Moving On

Summary : The war is over, so is the threat of the Dark Lord lurking around Muggles and Muggle-borns. When everyone's finally safe, Harry couldn't help but think about a certain Muggle Family with whom he spent almost 16 years of his life - The Dursleys. Though unwillingly, They had kept him with them and thereby strengthening the protective shield around his mother created and unknowingly keeping him safe. So, Harry decides to take a visit to them and ensure that they are leading their 'Normal' life.

**********************************************

As Harry stood at the small turning towards Privet Drive, Memories, though not so good, flooded into him. He had just apparated there deciding to pay his dear Uncle, Aunt and Cousin a little visit. Harry didn't expect them to welcome him with warn heart and happy faces; In fact he could absolutely imagine the expression of Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's face when he shows up on the door on a clear and bright Sunday. He was not sure if he is doing the right thing by revisiting them and just making the old memories fresh but a talk with Ginny told him he need to.

When he talked to Ron, He clearly said it was a bad idea and Harry kind of agreed with him. Hermione, on the other hand, asked him to go and said in a rather Hermioneish way- "You should do what you feel like Harry! If you are feeling like going, Just do it! Other wise, No!". That definitely didn't help. But Ginny convinced him to visit them, especially after he recollected his last interaction with Dudley a year ago. She thought it will be good if he just paid them a visit cause none of them expected Harry to come out alive after the war. So, After so many negotiations with himself and with his friends, He found himself apparating to Privet Drive.

As he walked through the streets looking at the similar houses built on the same line, He couldn't help but go back in the memory line and though not good, It indeed bought a smile on him. He remembered meeting Sirius for the first time; He thought it was a Black Dog attacking him. He recollected being attacked by the Dementors along with Dudley. He remembered going to everyday Markets to get things for Mrs Figg when the Dursleys leave him with her. He passed the house of Mrs Figg, the old Squib who lives there in the disguise of a strict and cold Muggle lady. He grinned thinking how Uncle Vernon would react when he finds out.

At last, He reached the 2 storey house which looked like every other houses in that line and stood before the doorstep anticipating what to do next. The Garden was well kept just like how it used to be. Taking a deep breath, He pushed the calling bell button on the right side of the door. As he stood there, pocketing his hands inside his jeans, He heard footsteps coming closer and within some seconds, the door opened revealing Dudley Dursley.

Harry looked at him like he didn't believe his eyes. The Dudley before him didn't look like the one he last saw. Though not slim, He has definitely lost a serious amount of weight and is looking lot a more fit. He has started growing a good amount of stubble and his face didn't look Pig-like.

The express on his face clearly told him He was least expected there. He was looking at Harry like an odd thing, his eyes wide. Harry tried to smile but ended up twitching his mouth in an awkward sort of way.

"Dudley..!!", A female voice came which Harry couldn't recognise but that seemed to knock some sense into Dudley as he suddenly shook himself and spoke, " Ha.. Harry?"

Harry found it odd when he heard his name from him. As far as he remembers, He was never called by his name in the house. It was always 'Boy' or 'Kid' or just 'He'.

"Hi Big D!", Harry greeted trying to ease the situation a bit.

Dudley smiled which Harry found amusing as well as nice and spoke, "Come in!"

Harry stepped inside the house and his eyes involuntarily travelled through the rooms. It looked exactly the way it was when he had left last time. Nothing was changed.

"Mom and Dad are not Home. They went to attend a Party from Dad's Office!", Dudley informed and Harry found it hard digesting such mannered behaviour coming from him. Of course, He knew he has changed since Harry had saved his life from the Dementors some years ago, But this was a lot to take in.

Harry nodded as Dudley sat on the couch and Harry too took his seat opposite. Just as was about to ask about when they had gotten back, A blond girl with a pointed nose came into view from kitchen. She was a pretty girl with, Harry noticed, an uncanny resemblance to Aunt Petunia. She was quite tall and had a pointed face but it looked less strick and more carefree.

Harry looked at her and then at Dudley expecting him to speak up. He thought he just saw a blush playing on his face and found it hard not to laugh, not when he was being so nice.

"Er..-This is Betty! And Betty, This is..Harry, Er..-My Cousin!", He said standing up and introducing both of them. It was like a day of Surprises for Harry. Firstly, Dudley's changed appearance and behaviour, and then his Girl in his house. Harry found it hard to believe. Nevertheless Harry smiled and shook hands with her who was looking at him sceptically for some reason Harry didn't give much thought to.

"I will get something to drink!", The girl spoke and looked at Dudley before leaving.

They both looked at each other for some time before Harry speaking up, "Er... That's your Girlfriend then. Right?", Harry asked fighting hard not to laugh.

Dudley went pink before muttering, "Yeah..Sort of!"

Harry didn't understand what Sort of meant there but nodded. "She seems so familiar here!"

"Yeah! She comes often. Mum likes her a lot!", Dudley answered.

"I see!", Harry replied and looked at the floor for some moments.

"So..", Dudley started and Harry looked up. "The war's over then?"

Harry nodded.

"So you defeated that..Er..-", Dudley seemed to think hard. "That guy who killed your parents?", He said finally.

Harry nodded, "Voldemort. His name!", He spoke.

"Oh..Yeah!"

Another round of awkward silence followed in which the girl called Betty came and served him drinks and snacks. Harry thanked her and she smiled at him. She then told Dudley she is leaving and left not before offering him a final smile.

"She knows!", Dudley spoke when he found Harry looking at her go. Harry jerked his head and looked at him enquiringly, "She knows you being...Er..-"

"Wizard?", Harry asked.

"Yeah! I told her about you lot. She found it interesting! Said, she reckons one of her neighbour from her old household was also one!", Dudley explained.

"So when did you get back here?", Harry asked.

"Oh..!One of your guys came to our apartment personally and informed us all about you and told us it is safe for us to come back here. So, We moved back here the next week itself. They offered to take us but Dad refused considering there is no danger anymore."

"Oh..Yeah..!!", Harry replied.

They sat silently for another few minutes, only the sound of Harry sipping the coffee could be heard, before Dudley asked, a rather surprising one, "Do you want to see your room? The old one?"

Harry almost choked on his tea but balanced himself before looking at him amused. What the hell happened to the Diddykins?

But looking at the enquiring face of Dudley, Harry considered the question. He pondered it and thought it would be good if he just did. "Yeah. Sure!", He said standing up followed by Dudley.

They climbed the stairs, a feeling of thick memories overlapping Harry. They reached the room and opened the door slowly. Harry stepped into the room and looked around. It definitely didn't look like the one he left. It was clean and mended. There was a big cardboard box on one corner with something inside.

"Mum cleaned after we came here. No one usually comes here. There were some stuffs that you left here, Dad was about to throw it away but Mum and I insisted to keep it. Its in that box.", Dudley spoke.

Harry felt overwhelmed. Such an act was the least expected from the Dursleys. He probably expected his room to be renovated and converted into some Game room and useless stuff for Dudley. Harry looked around the room and slowly moved around observing the place. He went near the big cardboard box, his heart pounding fast, Not knowing what he will find it in there. Harry looked into the box and found so many newspaper cuttings, some letter covers, old boxes of Weasley's wizarding wheezes and many more. There was some Owl food also in a box and Harry was painfully reminded of Hedwig. And in a corner in the box, He found a toy soldier and bent to pick it up.

It is probably 10 years old. He nicked it from Dudley when he was almost 7 or 8. He glanced at Dudley and saw him smiling at him. He too smiled back, "Can I take this?", He asked and Dudley looked rather surprised.

"Yeah! Its your stuff!"

Harry smiled gratefully before pocketing it. He then moved away from the box and went near the bed. He looked through the window towards the bright sky and suddenly felt a Flying Blue Ford Angelia is coming through the clouds towards him. He smiled fondly at the memory.

Harry took a deep sigh and turned to Dudley. "I think I shall leave! Its time!", He looked at him and Dudley nodded going out followed by Harry.

They were at the door when Harry turned to Dudley, "So you mean it then?"

Dudley looked at him confused and Harry continued, "That I am not a waste of space?", He smiled.

It took some seconds before Dudley actually realised what was said, "Oh? Yeah! I mean it!"

"Thanks Dudley! It was nice meeting you again!"

Dudley smiled, "Yeah! You too! You couldn't see Mum and Dad though!"

"Oh! I am pretty sure they will be happy with that!", He grinned and Dudley chuckled.

As they opened the door and stepped out, They saw a car coming towards them before stopping before the house. And to Harry's amazement, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stepped out, both looking extremely stunned.

"Yo..You...Here?", Mr Dursley stuttered. Petunia looked simply surprised.

Harry smiled, "Yes Uncle Vernon. Thought I will just pay you a visit!", Harry said coolly.

Both of them didn't say anything and Harry didn't wait for them to speak either. He turned, "Goodbye Big D!", He smiled and Dudley reciprocated much to the amazement of the other two.

He turned to Petunia and Vernon, "GoodBye Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia!", He said both finding it hard to speak up. "And Thanks Aunt Petunia-", He paused, "For not throwing away my stuff!", He smiled genuinely and Petunia tried to smile but ended up twitching her lips unpleasantly.

Harry gave them a last smile and started walking away when he suddenly heard Mr Dursley, "How are you going to go?", He turned and saw Dudley too looking at him puzzled. He grinned, "Oh. Don't mind. I will just apparate!"

The expression on their face clearly gave Harry a hard time not to laugh as he walked away mentally thanking Ginny for convincing him to do this!

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry #harry x ginny #ron weasley #hermione granger #dudley #dudley dursley #the dursleys #vernon dursley #petunia dursley #hinny fanfic #hinny #headcanons

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kaibacorpintern · 5 years ago

Note

For the prompt thing: kaiba + yuugi + professionalism!

this was fun!! thanks to @dxmichelle for the retail stories. kaiba as a retail worker is like me when I was a retail worker because when i worked at a barnes and noble, i spent a LOT of time perfectly squaring the books. anyway all the kaibacorp adventure park castmembers get some fat fucking pay raise/benefit boosts after this

***

This was all Jounouchi’s fucking fault and Seto was never agreeing to any stupid fucking bets again. When did he become a good duelist, instead of just a lucky one? And he knew it, too, announcing his plans to win the Domino City Invitational with the kind of brash, easy confidence that was a front for nothing, a Roman wall around nothing, with nothing he needed to defend on the other side. As hard to read as a coloring book. Asshole.

“The gods have struck men down for less hubris than this,” Seto snapped, over a game of poker at Yuugi’s weekly game night. Mokuba had badgered him into attending after their return from the yearly strategic planning retreat with the board. You need to be around normal people! No more sharks in people suits!

“So what? You don’t believe in higher powers, Rich Boy.”

“In my experience, a god and a higher power are two separate things."

“Oh, okay, Neeshee. Maybe you don’t believe in me, but you do believe in games,” Jounouchi said.

“Devastating insight,” Seto said. “And it’s Nietzsche.”

“Bless you. Don't be rude and sneeze into a tissue next time. Let’s make a bet. When I win the Invitational, you… pick up all my shifts at the Kame Game Shop for a week. I take home all the paychecks, but you do all the work. You know, bog-standard capitalism.”

Seto rolled his eyes. “When you lose, you give the jet a good wash and wax. Then you throw your deck and your Duel Disk into the river, and never duel again.”

“Deal. And I tell you what, Kaiba. One day we’re gonna meet across the field, and you’re going to lose, but it won’t even bother you, because you had just so much fun,” Jounouchi said, extending his hand across the table, with a savage grin.

“Don’t fucking threaten me,” Seto said, shaking his hand.

Asshole! Jounouchi stomped the competition with an ease Seto hadn’t seen since he was fourteen and unceremoniously sacking Inspector Haga at the Pan Pacific Final.

At least Yuugi gave him his own nametag, instead of making him wear Jounouchi’s: a plastic, turtle-shaped badge with a white space for his name. There was a line below it that said MY FAVORITE GAME IS... chess, Seto wrote in moodily, with the marker. Then he affixed it to his dark-green apron, neatly and precisely, just over his heart.

Yuugi nudged the curtain into the stock room aside, wearing a matching apron and smiling like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“Ready to clock in - oh, no. This is the Kame Game Shop,” he said, reaching up to fix Seto’s name tag, tweaking it to sit slightly at an angle. “Perfect right angles are for squares.”

“A KaibaCorp Adventure Park castmember wouldn’t be caught dead with their nametag this sloppy,” Seto snapped.

“It’s not sloppy. It’s jaunty and playful,” Yuugi corrected. “Now, let’s review. You’re an engineering prodigy, so I’m sure you can handle the register. What do we do when a customer walks in?”

Seto sighed, hands bracing on his hips as his eyes rolled towards the ceiling. That asshole picked up five full days of double shifts.

“Welcome them when they walk in,” he said, as Yuugi nodded along. “Ask if they need any help. If they’re just browsing, leave them alone. Provide recommendations if they ask.”

“And?” Yuugi prompted, raising his eyebrows.

“Wrap and bag their purchases and thank them for wasting my fucking time.”

Yuugi reached up, pressing the tips of his index fingers into Seto’s cheeks. “No! Smile!”

Seto bared his teeth.

“Can’t believe people call you a bad sport,” Yuugi said. “Maybe just smize instead. Go! Clock in! Upsell your own Duel Disk!”

Seto let out a final dramatic huff, took the clipboard off its hook on the wall, and added his billion-dollar contract signature to the timesheet, below several rows of Jounouchi’s scrawl.

***

After four hours, Seto took his lunch break, an all-too-brief thirty minutes in the alley behind the Game Shop, leaning back with one foot propped against the wall, answering emails on his phone with all the speed and fury his thumbs could muster. It was high summer. Vines spilled over the wall on the other side of the alleyway, limp and vibrating with heat. Even the shade under the wall was warm.

The side door opened. He turned his head, preparing a choice little bon mot for Yuugi, and paused, his breath hitching in his chest with a wild regret, birdlike, startled suddenly out of hiding.

He stared at Sugoroku, privately cursing Jounouchi for the nth time for making the fucking bet, winning the fucking Invitational, and putting him here in this fucking alleyway, staring at Sugoroku. It was too late to go back inside. Sugoroku stared back, hoary-haired, stooped under the weight of his years. Even wizened, with skin like old, pale leather, the family resemblances were clear: the same big, warm eyes, the same bright smile, no less weakened for age.

He shuffled out the door, dragging a small garbage bag of recycling beside him.

“Open that up and drop this in, will you please? My back’s not what it used to be.”

“Yes,” Seto said, rapidly stooping to take the bag. Should he add sir? Yes, sir? He hadn’t said 'sir' to anyone in ten years. What was he supposed to say? Sorry. I was not myself. I was myself, but the worst version. It was the beta release of me and we have removed the bugs (the murder bugs) in advance of stable release. All remaining bugs are acceptable. We have added accurate legal and medical disclaimers to all our SolidVision and Virtual World products about how the sensory intensity of KaibaCorp proprietary holographic technology may exacerbate existing heart conditions. I am taking good care of her and I love her and she loves me. Who? Her. The dragon.

He dropped the bag into the recycling bin several steps away and turned around to face Sugoroku, summoning his resolve with an inhale, exhale, firm and deep.

“How’s your first day?” Sugoroku said.

“My company isn’t going down in flames without me,” Seto said. “Color me surprised.”

“How’s your first day here?”

“Enthralling. The adrenaline high of consumer retail is really just something else - ”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you over all that racket you’re making,” Sugoroku said. Seto paused, bewildered, mouth half-open - and shut it, color flaring across his face.

“Uh - fine,” he muttered. “It’s fine. I helped an eight-year-old pick out a board game.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She came in with all the allowance she’d saved up and she wanted something she could play with her sister. I sold her on mancala."

"That's a classic. Not a board game, but a classic. And hard to sell to children."

Seto scoffed. "I hate the crap they pass off as board games these days, with all the… fiddly, little plastic pieces and the arcane rules. Children get drawn in by the colors, but they don't have patience for the rules, so it ends up forgotten at the bottom of a bookshelf somewhere with half the pieces sucked up in the vacuum cleaner. Mancala is simple. You can play it with a patch of dirt and a handful of gravel. But if you want to win, you need to play with skill and wit. It's timeless. It’s elegant."

"Well, you've sold me. I haven’t played mancala in years. Shall we play tomorrow? During your lunch break?"

Seto said nothing, resisting the urge to bite his lip, a bad habit and a sign of nervousness.

“Yuugi speaks very highly of you, you know,” Sugoroku said. “I’d love to know why.”

He chuckled and shuffled back inside, leaving Seto fuming with an odd, stomach-clenching embarrassment.

He checked his phone. Three more minutes left of his lunch break, and his feet were aching. He should’ve worn different shoes, not the Chelsea boots. Tomorrow. Mancala? Damn Jounouchi to hell. Better shoes.

***

“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Do you have Legendary Heroes II?”

Seto abandoned his task of aligning board game boxes at perfect right angles. Fuck jaunty and playful.

“No. That’s not out until December,” he said. The production issues on Legendary Heroes II were a fucking nightmare, and the thought of making his game developers crunch - making them miserable, overworked, and more likely to quit and get snapped up by Schroeder Corp - gave him hives. So he’d pushed release back to December, allowing the small hit to his stock under the rationale that the holiday retail season would make up for it. But she didn’t need to know that.

“But - it’s my son’s birthday next Saturday, and Legendary Heroes is his favorite game,” she said, hands clenching loosely by her stomach, a gesture of pleading.

“I’m delighted to hear it. It does not change the fact that the game literally does not exist,” Seto said.

“Can you just check in the back? He’s been asking about this for months now,” she said, and Seto clicked his teeth, face slipping into a snarl - from the corner of his eye, he saw Yuugi, watching him.

Smile, he mouthed, and pressed his fingers into his own cheeks, putting on a manic, plastic grin.

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” Seto said, smiling, and stormed away. As expected, he did not find Legendary Heroes II in the stock room. He dawdled, checking his email, firing off a few replies, advising Mokuba on the right way to handle the zesty temperament of their general counsel - this’ll be fun, Mokuba said, I get to run KaibaCorp without you, like, dying or something - WHAT? - and stashed his phone back into his apron pocket.

“My apologies,” he said, returning to the woman. “We don’t have it in stock. If you’d like to pre-order it, it’ll be available just in time for Christmas. Just log on to the KaibaCorp website and enter the Kame Game Shop as your pick-up location. If you’re still looking for a birthday gift, I strongly suggest the new Duel Disk. The design is much better for children than the old one - lighter and more streamlined, with less intense haptics. If he already has a Duel Disk, he can bring that in for a trade-in.”

“Oh, perfect!” she said. “We'll do that. Thank you. You’ve been so helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Have a fantastic day,” Seto said, still smiling. He watched her leave and returned to his board game boxes, feeling hideously, fabulously smug. A customer walked in, carrying a bare Duel Disk under his arm, and Seto shot him a cheerful welcome. The man ignored him, heading straight to Yuugi at the counter.

***

Yuugi swallowed, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin.

"I'm sorry. We cannot accept a Duel Disk return without a box or a receipt," he said. Clearly stolen.

"But I bought it here two weeks ago. And the stupid piece of shit is defective," the man said. "I want my money back!"

Loud enough that Seto, re-stocking towards the front of the store, turned towards them, with open curiosity.

"What's the nature of the defect?" Yuugi said.

"It just doesn't fucking work. I don't know what else to tell you," the guy said. "Are you gonna do the return or not?!"

His least favorite type of customer: smashing reason apart with the baseball bat of belligerence. Yuugi steeled himself for the inevitable slew of insults.

"Sir. I can't do the return without a receipt - "

A hand came down on his shoulder, pulling him with polite insistence out of the way. Seto, with a canny, feline smile, the kind that foretold bloodshed on the dueling field.

"Oh no, Yuugi," he said. "Let me handle this."

#fanfiction #norealgoodbyes

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 4 years ago

Text

you were shunned and burned your cradle

Newsies Gen PG 4,365 words AO3 Living in New York isn't easy for a boy on his own. It's worse for Crutchie between his leg and the air itself trying to poison him. But things really can only go up. For @i-got-personality as part of @newsies-secret-santa! You said you like Crutchie, canon era, and any kind of magic and well I hope that you like this!

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

Being a changeling hurts in a different way too. Knowing that, for whatever reason, his mother gave him up. That a human baby was far preferable to him and so he was left in some other child’s crib. To make matters worse, he was given up twice. That hurt even more.

On his crueler days, the ones filled with self-loathing, he blames himself. That it was some personal failing, his bum leg perhaps, that made his mother exchange him. That the same failing is why the woman who believed herself his mother threw him out onto the street. Logically, he knows this isn’t the case. For one, he remembers what happened to his leg and it involved an iron poker that proved to his mother he wasn’t really hers as fear burned in her eyes.

Being a changeling in New York hurts and it’s hard too. Trying to grow, to thrive, in a city that was made in opposition to your very nature. It’s even harder when you’re just a kid. When you’re living on the streets. His first few nights are the worst. He’s cold and hungry and tired and he hurts. Oh does he hurt.

Being a changeling is no walk in the park, though ironically walks in the park help some. Help a lot. Until he tires. But being a changeling in a city as big as New York means you’re not alone. Well, you’re never alone but there’s others too. If you know how to spot them.

He’s been sleeping in doorways and sneaking food from market stalls – but not begging, whether an innate part of being a one of the Folk or an innate part of himself he did not want or need anyone’s pity – for a few weeks when he sees her. She’s tall, very tall and with the tatters her skirts are in he’s able to see the pale pink of her calves from knee to muddy leather boots. It’s not a normal pink, not like the glimpses of his own cold cheeks in shop windows, but the dusty pink of a rose. Her fingers are the same color as she waves and calls, catching passersby’s eye and gesturing to the basket of flowers on her arm. The violets match her thick, plated hair and the bluebells her bright, solid-colored eyes.

He stops, shocked on the other side of the street, when he sees her. A cart and then trolley pass between them and still he can’t tear his gaze away. She’s smiling at him once the street is clear, wide and kind. The light almost sparks off her pointed teeth. She winks and crooks a long, thin finger to him. He crosses without another thought, barely managing to remember how to even walk before he’s in front of her.

“Hello little one,” she coos, tilting his chin up so he can meet her gaze. Her pink fingers then trail through his hair, straightening it, before running down to brush over his shoulders and tug lightly at his vest. This close he sees that she has small white flowers woven into the braid of her purple hair. They look like stars in a twilight sky and he’s fairly certain they sparkle too.

“Hello, miss,” he manages to reply.

Her grin sharpens. “You’re a polite young man. And that smile! Sweeter than stolen cream.”

At those words he can’t help but preen. “Thank you, miss. I quite like your hair myself. I’ve-” he stumbles, tightening his grip on the crutch under his arm, “I’ve never seen hair that color.”

Eyes widening, she straightens. “My, you’ve not met one of your own before, have you?”

“No, miss,” he shakes his head, hair flopping into his eyes. He reaches up to brush it back but she’s faster. Brushing it away with her rosy fingers again.

“But you know our ways?” She says it like a question but the flash of her eyes makes it a challenge.

He straightens, feeling so proud it borders on smug. “Never give your true name, always be polite, and nothing is a gift.”

Her head tilts and he honestly can’t tell if she’s thrilled or disappointed. Though they both know it’s not all the ways of the Folk, just the important ones. The ones the humans know in order not to err on their bad side. But for a changeling like him, it’s a good start and all true. That’s another thing he knows, the Folk cannot lie.

“Very good little one. You may know, but I doubt you have much practice. Let us strike a bargain, shall we?” Again, her head tilts and more than her long limbs or resemblance to a garden or sunset, this looks the oddest to him. Sets her apart from the humans still buffeting them on the busy street.

“Only be it fair and true,” he replies on instinct. Because, there’s nowhere else it could have possibly sprung from.

Pride and amusement has her spine straightening as she nods. “My proposition is thus; you give me the two buttons from your vest and I shall weave you a crown that will never wilt. That will remind you of who you are.”

He has to think about it, faerie bargains are notoriously tricks meant to cheat the person hapless enough to make one. There are normally catches and clauses. There are twists and double meanings and you always, always lose more than you gain. Yet, this seems simple. Straightforward. And it would be rude to say no.

“A trinket for a trinket,” he says, stalling.

She inclines her head. “A mortal trinket for a faerie trinket. A piece of a life that was and will be again.”

His heart and mind catch on that last bit but to puzzle it out could take all day and he’s getting hungry. He was trying to find food when he saw her in the first place. It’s a risk, but a benign one. “My two buttons for a flower crown woven by you that will never wilt.”

Again, her smile is sharp. But her knife his sharper as she leans forward and cuts the buttons from his vest, hand moving quickly to cup them before they can do more than fall from the fabric. She slips them into the folds of her skirt, her knife disappearing too. Just as quickly she begins to pluck flowers from her basket with her too long, stick thin fingers and begins to weave them into a crown and in a blink it’s on his head.

“May you wear it in good health,” she says and it’s a blessing he didn’t bargain for. His stomach twists and he nods; remembering not to thank her at the last moment. She flashes one last grin as she turns away, her skirts flaring out, and walks down the sidewalk.

He manages to not lose his flower crown as he falls in with a group of satyrs living in Battery Park, though he leaves after a few weeks when he learns the fish they always have for dinner comes straight from the aquarium in the castle. He goes back to sleeping in doorways and on fire escapes after that. He’s hungry all the time but he can never be sure if it’s his nature or his circumstances that cause it.

Eventually, his clothes become too thin and short, showing off his wrists and legs and strips of his stomach. Sleeping on fire escapes has a new bite as the fabric begins to cover less and less and more and more of his skin is exposed to the iron. The worst is how tight his boots have become, pinching and squeezing at his toes. He refuses to go barefoot though, not because of the cold but because it reminds him too much of the others. The women who walk on the breeze and become one with the trees. The men who blink at him before disappearing into shadows and around corners. The beings and creatures who pinch and poke and trick and steal and cackle and dance, dance, dance in between the oblivious crowds.

He finally manages to trade with an immigrant family from the Lower East Side, not feeling sad to hand over the last items his mother gave him in exchange for shoes that are just a hair too big and clothes that keep his skin from the sparking itch of his fire escape beds.

It’s this sleeping arrangement that gets him in trouble. Faeries are meant to be swifter, stronger than humans. But with his crutch he’s not able to outrun the police. A shopkeeper reports him for vagrancy and even his charms aren’t able to keep the police from dragging him to the Refuge.

Another boy, a newsboy, sees this from a little ways down the street. He freezes and his face darkens. His face with its too sharp angles and too bright eyes. The boy is moving before he has the time to process this, making a messy grab for a trinket from a nearby vendor’s cart, dropping his papers in the process. The police notice – everyone on the block notices – and grab him. The boy struggles but it’s a show, he can tell it’s just for show, and soon they’re both being lifted into the wagon.

The trial is short, the other boy cocky, and the warden at the Refuge cruel. At least here he has a bed, a real bed, for the first time in years. The other boy smooth talks his way into getting the one next to him.

“You can call me Jack, Jack Kelly. Though some of the boys call me Cowboy too,” he says with a quicksilver smile.

He raises a skeptical brow, his thoughts catching on the phrasing and the sharp points the boy’s ears come to. Sharp points that match his own.

“You’re like me,” he says instead of giving his name. He knows better than to give anyone his name. He knows Jack certainly isn’t this boy’s.

“Depends on what you mean by that,” Jack says slyly, stretching out on the thin bunk.

“How do you do it?” He asks with genuine curiosity, leaning forward so he can lower his voice and study Jack’s pleasantly bored expression.

Confusion pulls at Jack’s brow. “Do what?”

“Work as a newsboy.” It wasn’t obvious? “They lie all the time to make money.”

The quicksilver is back. “I never lie. I just embellish the truth. Tell a story. The facts are there, just maybe not all the facts. If it weren’t true, I couldn’t say it.” Jack shrugs and it’s an odd motion since he’s laying on his back with his hands propped behind his head. Made odder by the fact that it seems almost graceful. “It’s not so bad. Get to go all over the city and the lodging house means you’ve got a bed if you can afford it.”

He frowns at the non-sequitur. It deepens when he realizes it’s an abrupt topic change. “We’re stuck here and you’re offering me a job?” he can’t keep all the disbelief out of his voice. Even if he hadn’t checked, he could feel that the windows and doors were barred with thick iron rods.

“I’ll be out of here by dawn, question is if you’re coming with me?”

For a solid minute he weighs his options. The Refuge with its coldness and crying children. Jack with his silver tongue and faerie arrogance.

When they manage to sneak out into the courtyard a few hours later they’re met by the boys who helped break the lock and distract the guards. The first causes him to stop, he’s so obviously a sprite that the scowl is the only thing keeping him from laughing. The other is mortal and chomping on an unlit cigar, the scent of which still makes him wrinkle his nose. The four slink out and into an alley before twisting around the block and through another back alley until they’re farther and farther away.

“We’re even now, Kelly,” the sprite finally growls once the sky begins to lighten.

“A deal’s a deal, Spot.” Jack offers his hand, spitting into it first. If he hadn’t already figured the boy was one of the Folk that would have confirmed it. The spit shake marks him as a newsie. Spot turns to him and the mortal, nodding at them both before turning off a side street and disappearing.

“Bell’s gonna ring soon,” the boy says, almost nervous as he bounces on his toes and glances down the street. His eyes dart to where Spot disappeared to, then to him, and finally back to Jack.

“And we’ll be there, right new kid?” Jack raises a brow at him. It’s a taunt.

“Course,” he replies. No bargain was struck, no deal made, but he is in Jack’s debt and they both know it.

Jack nods, smiles, and turns back to the mortal. “Go get in line, Race. Make sure Weasel don’t give us no grief for being late.”

Race, apparently, grins around the cigar and takes off running. Maybe that’s where the nickname comes from.

“You can trust Racetrack,” Jack tells him vaguely as they follow, “he’s good people.”

Or maybe that’s not where the nickname comes from.

In the next few weeks, he learns the ins and outs of selling from Jack. And of “charming folks” though truthfully, it’s just magic. Jack starts calling him “Kid” and the other newsies “Crutchie” and he doesn’t really care because neither are his name and that’s what matters. The night in the Refuge isn’t the first or last Jack spends there, but it is the only one that’s intentional. He works harder to repay Jack who seems less and less inclined to care.

Finally, he feels they’re even when he manages to discover the nook in the corner of the roof of the lodging house. The air is still filled with smoke and iron but not the smell and sounds of mortal boys. He takes careful trips up with bedding and supplies until he feels it’s suitable. Sleeping under the stars just feels right and he can tell Jack agrees by the expression on his face when he sees it.

They grow close. The other newsies learn he can predict the weather with startling accuracy and say it must be thanks to his leg, he never corrects them. They talk as the city chokes them, about going to someplace that’s nothing but stars. The money comes in fits and starts as he grows into his own sharp features. The other Folk avoid him but mortals feel almost compelled to buy his papers. Stories come in across the river of a young newsie rising through the ranks of Brooklyn and ruling with an iron fist. They don’t tell any of the others that the rumors sound an awful lot like the stories of Court drama they hear.

He keeps his own crown in the bag at his hip, as unchanging as the day he received it. Though now, years later and clothes traded and swapped and bought he misses the buttons she took. Misses having something that reminds him of the place he used to believe was home. For even his crutch is different, having long outgrown the original.

They’re teenagers too soon, a blink in their long lifetimes. With it comes something they don’t expect, an odd almost awed respect from the others. Except Race but he never counted. He’s tied up in Brooklyn as a rule and so is exempt. They never sought the power they seemingly have, power different than that which they were born with, and they discover it in the most dramatic way.

It starts with a raise in prices. A raise which isn’t fair, and they of all people would know. Jack is outraged, he is angry too but in a colder way.

The new boy, the one who either didn’t heed the stories of the old world or else his family hadn’t passed them on – and that did happen as people sought to keep the good and leave the monsters behind when they came to America and never would they imagine to find so many pretty ones in the center of the city – and offers his name as though it was on a platter. Even his little brother gives a nickname. But Jack had been kind and called him Davey and the others had too, much to Davey’s unknowing chagrin.

The new boy, Davey, matches Jack in his heat, at least momentarily, offering the spark to Jack’s powder and unknowingly unleashing that power.

When Jack says they should strike, they strike.

He finally understands the appeal of the Courts for the first time.

“Do you think she’s really going to show up tomorrow?” he asks that night on the rooftop, head still spinning from the rush of their decision. The thrill had dampened slightly after Jack told him of Spot’s reluctance to join them. Understandable, why would he want to risk losing the grip he kept on the tight leash he had over Brooklyn? And he didn’t owe Jack anymore. But this was as much for them as for the mortals. Righting a wrong against oneself was practically faerie law. Though the girl reporter was an intriguing thought and a twist even he hadn’t seen coming.

“I think so,” he can hear Jack’s smirk in the dark. “She told me her name was Katherine Plumber.”

“Really?” He’s surprised, the way she’d eyed him he thought she’d know better.

“Least it’s the name she publishes under,” Jack is almost proud.

“Clever,” he says happily.

“Too bad your charm doesn’t work in print,” Jack teases.

“I don’t need glamour to be charming. The smile’s just icing.”

Jack laughs, the sound floating up over the rooftops. “Good thing she’s bringing a camera.”

He grins up at the stars.

Like any war there are casualties. Unfortunately, he is one of them. Being back in the Refuge again is hard. The time stretches and shrinks in ways he never imagined possible and somehow he knows decades, centuries later he will look back on this and still wonder. The scent of iron is so heavy it’s dizzying and the press of bodies so close it makes everything seem small. These mortals with iron in their blood and salt on their skin surrounding him on all sides. He has the crown, somehow he has the crown. His crown. It marks him as other and for a time, some measure of time, he feels even more alone. So different from these humans serving penance without crime with him.

He takes it out one night, straining to see the pale petals in the paler light of the moon when that changes. The crown proves he is not alone. The faerie woman, the flower seller, took what was never his to begin with and gave him his true home. His first taste of community. Of finding others like himself. Of finding Jack with his silver tongue and smile. Of the newsies of Lower Manhattan with their bright spirits and easy laughs in the face of the City. Of righteous Davey and mischievous Les and clever Kath. Even of Spot and his politics and power games. He found his birthright in the world he was forsaken to and that realization rekindles something within, twisting the crown in his hands.

He feels less alone, turning his charm back on as the sun rises. Knowing that he is just one of hundreds here in the Refuge feeling like this. Uses his charm to learn that there are some who can get messages in and out. Others who can get him supplies. And in the night, despite complaints from his fellows for the candlelight, he writes to Jack urging him to not let his own fire go out.

He knows they’ll win, has never been in doubt of it. Jack said they would and Jack can’t lie. But he knows Jack, and knows that not being able to tell a lie does not mean you can’t lie to yourself. So, he writes and hopes that it gets to Jack in time.

The time slips and spins and he sleeps and waits and imagines and remembers and nearly misses a name being called. A name that was never really his but he took before he could talk and he hasn’t heard in so long he’d honestly almost forgotten it. The others part for him as he carefully makes his way to the stairs that will lead him to the ground floor and the door out of this place. He is thankful for his faerie grace as he moves with so many eyes on him, his crutch catching on the uneven floorboards but he walks with his head high. Walks right out the door. He’s not the only one to do so, but he is the first.

Relishing in the ability to breath in the wind again, he rides in the governor’s open topped carriage taking in lungfuls of it. Even when it carries the stale scent of trash and the river. His smile is so wide it almost hurts and he nearly forgets to smooth the points his teeth have grown into with the giddiness humming like magic under his skin. The people on the street stare to see such a grubby looking boy riding alone in such finery and he lets them, waving a bit and laughing to think that all this was done just for him. There’s a strange metaphor all tied up in it somewhere. A riddle he’ll spend the time puzzling out later. Right now he just breathes.

Seeing the crowd turn at the sound of hooves and whistles and the governor’s gesturing sends his heart speeding. He accepts the excitement buzzing throughout it and between his ears as some of the boys rush the carriage, holding out hands in silent offers to help him down. For once, he accepts. Jack’s grinning up on the small stage above the door to The World – another twisted metaphor for another time – but he quirks a brow too. Knowing he only allows this because so much focus has passed on to question about the police wagon that has followed behind him the whole way.

He makes a face at Jack in silent response before letting his own pride takeover. He spins and gestures to the wagon where police officers are herding out a man. Herding out the man who runs the Refuge. Who ran the Refuge. He can almost feel his excitement pricking at his fingers in the same way iron does as the governor agrees to let him do the honors. The feeling overpowers the actual feel of the iron manacles as he clamps them on the man’s wrist, letting his glamor slip and his smile turn cruel for just a blink in the process.

The celebrating ends sooner than expected, though that isn’t entirely true. Despite the newsies lining up and taking their papers, they all still chatter and cheer. Bubbling up and over at their win. Jack is talking with Spot, Davey, and Kath when he comes over after getting his own stack for the morning. Spot gives him a significant nod before spit shaking hands all around and heading off with his lieutenants. Racetrack trailing behind. It’s an odd mirror of their first meeting and he brushes the thought away as another problem for another time.

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” Kath says as she hugs him. He’s come to realize that she’s special in more ways than one. Her possession of the Sight just part of a larger enigma. Her willingness to pull him into her and easy offers of friendship another. He doesn’t argue though, squeezing her right back.

Davey offers a hand to shake once she frees him and a cautious smile. The caution has nothing to do with him though and everything to do with Davey’s own contradiction filled nature. “You were missed,” he says earnestly. Swatting at his little brother who begins babbling exactly how missed he was.

“So, how was the ride?” Jack slings an arm over his shoulders, wide smile as he pulls him in tight to his side.

“You struck a bargain,” he almost hisses through his own smile clenched teeth.

“We came to an agreement.” He feels more than sees Jack’s shrug.

“It was two deals,” Davey corrects with a stern turn to his mouth and a flash in his eyes. “Jack made two deals with Pulitzer.”

He pulls away, brushing off Jack’s hold. He stares hard at the other boy. Dares him to say something and damn himself. Say nothing and damn himself even further.

“The first was a deal only we could make,” Jack says smoothly. He doesn’t blink and his sharp features become sharper with the seriousness that overtakes him. He understands immediately. It was hard. It was cruel. And it doesn’t matter what exactly it was and who gave what because in the end Jack walked away with what mattered most.

“And the second?” he prompts.

Jack shrugs again, shares a glance with the others, and smirks. “We won.”

Truthfully, he should have expected that. He rolls his eyes. Later, under the stars and the smoke, breathing in as little iron as they can he’ll ask again. He’ll find out what he did to convince Spot. What the terms of the bargain were. Of both bargains. And whether Jack was going to tell Davey their true nature, since there was no point in telling Kath. They have all the time in the world to leave the city and see the stars. These people they’ve turned into a home have only a lifetime and he’s already decided that he’s going to make the most of it.

End notes can be found on ao3. Please leave a comment and lmk what you think there as well! :)

#newsies #newsies secret santa 2020 #crutchie morris #jack kelly #fae #writing #own writing #my fic #canon compliant #it technically is!!!#david jacobs #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #it's the 20th here officially and i got excited about this so i'm posting

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cno-inbminor · 5 years ago

Text

adsentio - stagnation

a/n: we’re back with prince!akaashi, royalty!au, extra part. i promise i was writing the wedding scene, but then it started storming pretty heavily...and my brain said, “no, Kay. it’s rainy hours. write angst. you know you want to.” and...this happened.

NOTE: for this specific scenario, it’s not 100% necessary to read ‘adsentio’, the main story. however, there are details that reference it and subsequent parts. the basic idea is: you and prince akaashi had been set up to marry since you were children, and while the both of you were against it for a while, feelings changed for the better.

summary: after a few years of being married, you find yourself firmly concluding that indeed, akaashi no longer loves you.

genre: angst!! with happy ending though. wc: ~2.9k

main story: adsentio (pt. 1) | bonus letters (pt. 1.5) | the masque (pt. 2)

Whenever torrents of rain cascade over the kingdom, down the vine-ridden castle walls and pattering upon the lake, many will pause in their tasks and gaze out the nearest windowpane. Thunder may rumble and lightning may strike, yet everyone registers the same twist in their stomachs. An unease lies beneath their skin; a chill that wickedly summons horripilation. In an effort to battle the shadows, fires begin to roar, one by one through the castle. Aches and pains arise in bodies as the masses wait with bated breath for the rainbow to appear as it always does.

Smoke floats through the chimneys and taints the air, evident by the wisps of gray and onyx. Yet they are unnoticed and in stealth on this dreary night where everyone must succumb to the understanding that there will be no rainbow. The controller of the tides will peak above the midnight clouds and attempt to shine, but never strong enough to guide the nightly travelers.

Even with the tamed inferno in the chambers, a puff of visible air leaves your lips. Your hands clasp tightly together, your fingers intertwining with each other in your lap as you sit in front of your vanity. Raindrops beat against the glass of the balcony doors, glistening in their trail towards the ground. Yet as soon as they fall onto stone, the drop shatters and colors the surface. It paints and paints until the blemishes appear and the imperfections glare towards the skies.

Jewels sit heavy on your figure, your crown resting on a cushion atop your vanity. But in this moment, nothing weighs more than the wedding ring on your left hand. It’s crushing, suffocating; it burns a print and imprisons your appendage, reminding you of unspoken promises ghosted against your ear. The gems hold decades of memories, being passed down from queen to future queen, and you wonder if any of them proceeded with what you plan on doing.

Akaashi had entered the room as smooth as a serpent, silent like a zephyr. Your only warning of his presence is the raised hairs on the back of your neck, your body tensing just as his hands placed themselves on your shoulders from behind. Another breath is drawn from your lungs as he peers into the mirror at you, the faintest expression of happiness drawn from his lips. But it’s lifeless. It’s the one he reserves for meetings and pleasantries, for when he disagrees with his father but has no choice to comply. His eyes are darkened with death and dissatisfaction, and has been for almost two weeks now.

His brows only marginally furrow with concern at your lack of reaction, how you seem to be looking past him. Your own expression comes off as solemn yet nervous, as if you’ve committed a grave sin.

“Is anything wrong, my dear?” He asks gently, watching carefully.

Your lips purse as you turn your head towards the hand on your right shoulder. They no longer provide the warmth and comfort that they did so many years ago, but only serve to freeze your soul and weave together the insecurities that you had painstakingly unraveled. Akaashi continues to gaze at you in silence as you stand from your seat, wordlessly beckoning for him to take your place. With guarded hesitation, he does as you say. Instead of standing behind him as he did you, you instead take the space on his right, facing his side profile. Feeling unnerved, he turns to face you rather than his own reflection.

In times of vulnerability, you have always struggled to find your footing, to feel that you are powerful. You believe there is a strength in possessing self-awareness and having the ability to convey those thoughts to someone who cares and knows. Just because you feel small in the moment does not mean you must be small. You can tower over the other person as you do now, forcing your prince to lift his chin to speak to you.

“You are unhappy,” you whisper ruefully.

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” he fibs, his eyes wavering as he directs his gaze away from yours. In that brief moment of eye contact, you had seen the show end, but the curtains lifted, the gears turning and unveiling his chaotic despair.

“You cannot lie to me, milord. And only you are incapable of doing so with me.”

He lets out an arduous sigh and slouches his back, a pose of defeat and exhaustion. A dagger twists his heart at the title, but his reticence allows you to continue.

“I can only imagine that there have been many women in my position before, where they must continue to rule with locked lips and the key thrown. There must have been many who were as hopeful as me, and yet as time aged us, we had to turn the other way and simply learn to accustom ourselves to the new surroundings. With how long we have known each other, I know almost everything about you. To most, you may only have a few sitting postures. But to me, you have tens. Each little movement indicates something different, something you happen to be thinking or feeling at that moment. It’s ingrained into my brain by sheer force and repetition, and I’m beginning to wish I was more oblivious. Perhaps, then, I would at least have been a happy fool, content with my misguided beliefs.”

“What are you trying to say?” He enquires as he dares to face you again. With regret, loss, and grief, he watches as your eyes begin to shine with tears and the most bittersweet smile on your face begin to form.

“You no longer love me.

“And I have no objection to that,” you continue, raising a hand to stop any of his interjections. “I should have known that you would eventually tire and wish for what I had voiced all those years ago: some freedom, some choice. As much as you had convinced yourself that marrying me was unequivocally your free will, you no longer believe it. All of your interactions with me scream so, and I have no intentions to attempt to convince you otherwise. Doing so would be hypocritical of me. So for now,” you pause, looking down at your hands while catching your breath.

Akaashi can hear the tremble of your lungs over the crack of thunder and the beating of the heavens. But everything deafens when your right hand hovers over your left ring finger. They hesitate and shake, reaching then reclining, before grasping the ornate band and slowly, lamentably removing it. You then extend a hand to gently grasp one of his, placing the piece of jewelry in his open palm, then curling his fingers closed around it.

“For now, I shall return this to you. You may do as you wish, as I will not stop you. Perhaps…we were not lucky enough for love.”

You sleep with your back to him that night, unwilling to face him when only mere inches exist between you two. You miss how Akaashi turns to face your back, how his arm tentatively reaches to wrap around your waist before pulling back, and can only slip into his dreams when counting the strands of your hair.

“The Prince urgently requests that you meet him in the library, Your Highness.”

“Now?”

“Preferably, yes.”

“Very well, I shall be there shortly,” you sigh, your turning away signaling the messenger’s dismissal. Your head bends down to take one last look at the embroidery in your lap, your fingers finishing some last few stitches for an appropriate stopping point. Fingers cautiously smooth the wrinkles of your day dress, and you take one last deep breath.

The journey to the library is painstakingly laborious, as though each step you made had been done with shackles around your ankles. There is a weight to the sound of your heels clicking against the ground. Maids and butlers shuffle past you with heads bowed, though you seem to deep in a trance to observe.

Much of the energy and power that you felt you had exuded those nights ago had soon dissipated from your body. Your body resembles an empty shell, devoid of a plan to stand on your feet and continue with your normal activities. Your left ring finger screams into the numbing void, the missing weight almost bearing its own scarlet letter. You stayed in your room as much as possible, requesting meals to be delivered to the chambers. Akaashi nearly always needed to be away, taking care of kingdom affairs in preparation for his inevitable ascension to the throne. The only times you were ever near him were in the mornings and nights. You understood he was allowing some space for you, yet to request your presence…

Soon, you stand in the doorway of the royal library, the wooden entrance left ajar. The space acts as a safe haven for anyone in the castle; you gently press it open with the pad of your fingers. Hundreds of books on shelves line the walls with a few tables and lounging couches, yet it is eerily empty. Typically, there would be another person climbing one of the ladders to reach a high book, but even those are gathering dust for now.

Akaashi is in the farthest corner by the window, small stacks of bound journals and novels on almost every available space of the surface. He stands tall by the glass, looking out towards the gardens with his hands clasped behind his back. You take this moment of his oblivion to appreciate the back of the man before you, choking back and battling the agonizing twist of your heart. It is a moment you feel that you no longer deserve, but whatever it may be, the matter seems far less urgent than what the butler had told you.

You near him and clear your throat, the noise causing him to spin on his heels. He looks somewhat taken aback, but quickly composes himself as you curtsy. “I am here, Your Highness. I was told you had urgent matters to discuss.”

Akaashi sighs somewhat before sitting in the chair, beckoning you to come closer to the desk. His complexion seems pale and almost gaunt, and in turn, you frown. Was he not sleeping? Or eating? Has his father been putting too much pressure on his shoulders?

“I must confess,” he begins softly and refuses to meet your eyes. “The matter isn’t as urgent as I made it out to be. But I wanted to see you as soon as possible as it is still important and does concern you.”

“Did I…do something wrong?”

“Of course not,” he immediately denies, taking a hasty glance towards you before turning back to the books on the desk. “If anything…I am the one who has wronged you, and I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me,” he continues, his voice trailing towards the end of his confession. The desperation for forgiveness and repentance drown his words until they are all you can feel, yet you were so unsure of why he was seeking those. Did he pity you? Your emotions?

“I believe there is no reason to forgive you, as there is nothing you should feel sorry for,” you say stiffly, hands subtly wringing together.

“I must concur,” he kindly retorts. “Here, please have a look at this.”

He hands you a journal from the top of a stack, encouraging for you to take it. The leather feels aged and worn, but it is one you recognize from many, many years ago.

‘You could consider it a memoir.’

“Open it, please. And read what’s inside it.”

With a curious look, you unwind the ties and peel back the cover. The first page holds nothing, but when you turn the yellowing parchment, familiar handwriting greets you. A date sits in the top right corner, marking it a little less than a year before your eighteenth birthday.

‘I must say, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from the princess. In my mind, she would have better things to attend to than to reply to me. After all, we both have our own duties, and in addition to hers, she must be attending some of her father’s meetings. I cannot deny the fact that my heart began to race swiftly when I saw her signature at the bottom of the letter. Even in her writing, I could hear her voice in my head, reading it the same way as if she were speaking to me. How I long for the summer months to quickly come.’

The beginning entry ends there, but as you thumb through the other pages rapidly, they are filled with his writing in neat, onyx ink. You begin to recall the days when you both were here in this very room, him scribbling away as you read your subject of interest. Your eye the other similar-looking journals and he confirms your unspoken questions.

“They’re all about you,” he smiles, though it seems sad and apologetic. “As you can see, I filled quite a few journals over the many years, but…unfortunately, as I grew busier, I was unable to write as much. When you said those words to me that night,” – a grimace on his complexion – “I couldn’t believe myself. Did I truly not love you anymore? At first, I struggled to find an answer…until a few days ago. I have spent much of my time reading through these pages, seeing what I have written.”

“You read…all of these? There must be almost twenty journals here,” you say in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“I couldn’t quite put them down, I must admit. Some of my best work, perhaps.”

He stands from his seat and walks around the desk until he’s in front of you. Those pools of cobalt blue still find it difficult to meet your own eyes – they swim with contemplation and hesitation, but a sheet of determination soon clouds them. After you recognize that, he grasps your left hand with both of his and kneels on one knee, his forehead bowed down onto your knuckles either out of embarrassment or absolute respect.

“Keiji, what are you—”

“I was wrong. I had been so wrapped up in my own affairs that I failed to look after you as I had promised at the altar. I neglected you and unwittingly led you to believe that I no longer loved you. You do not deserve such a foolish man, so ignorant to forget how good you are to me, how there can be no other woman because you are my perfect match. I have been reminded of all the reasons of why I love you, and I swear on my existence that I love you more than I ever have.

Yet the truth is, I shouldn’t need to be reminded. You should never need to question my loyalty to you, and for that…I can only give my deepest apologies,” his voice trails to a volume so soft, yet so shaky with remorse. “The regret that I feel can’t even begin to hold a light to the pain that you must have kept bottled inside you, where you kept the cork in for as long as possible as to not burden me. I have failed you, and I will spend the rest of our days correcting my wrongs. In this very moment,” he pauses, inhaling a deep but quivering breath.

“I desperately and humbly request of you to give me this one last chance, to prove that I can be the man you deserve. I am begging you, my future queen, to forgive me.”

Your breath hitches with the last statement.

A prince never begs.

Yet he was here to lay it all out for you, imploring that you stand by his side, again, in more ways than one.

“Please rise, Your Highness,” you call out softly, your hand reaching out to try lifting his chin and meet his gaze.

He stubbornly shakes his head. “Not unless you give me your answer.”

“Keiji, you don’t need—”

“Your answer. Please,” he beseeches with the last word, breath held. You know that when Akaashi becomes insistent, he never backs down yet somehow still allowing the other person to have a choice in the say. No thinking needed to be done, as your answer should be quite obvious.

“How could I ever refuse you, Keiji?” You tease softly with a smile.

Since the first moment he had kneeled before you, he looks up to see your face. Unshed tears glisten from the sun’s rays streaming through the glass. Your words are more than enough for him to stand on both feet again, soon wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into your shoulder. These acts of affection are only a small portion of what you had sorely missed, and you were counting on Akaashi to fulfill his vow.

“You are everything to me,” he breathes unsteadily into your neck. “And I will make certain that you never forget this, even after we pass.”

“I can trust you?”

“Yes. I promise.”

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keith-claes · 4 years ago

Text

Again my writing skills airnt that great this will possibly be more than one chapter too depending how well it does.

(Girl from the future)

*Chapter 1*

_____________________________

One week before Katarina started work at Ministry of Magic with Maria, Katarina walks around her family gardens alone wanting alittle time to her self, once she starts her new job she wasnt going to be at home that often and wanted to visit some of her favourite hang outs, before checking her veggie garden she took a trip to her favourite tree she likes to climb, she walks over and spots something or someone passed out up in the tree.

Katarina: "is that a girl? She doesnt seem to be moving, I better check if shes okay"

She runs over to the tree as she climbs up, shes gets a good look of her, she appeared to be breathing still which was a good sign, she takes her hand as she checks her over, she looked awfully familiar to her, she has the same blond hair as her brother, so she wondered if perhaps this is a relative of Keith's possible cousin maybe that's why shes at the Claes mansion.

Katarina: "hey are you okay, you shouldn't sleep here, you might fall"

The girl slowly opens her blue eyes same shade of blue as Katarina's, luckily she was sat up in the tree, she places he hand behind her head as she winces out in pain"

Katarina: "hey are you okay"

???: "my head hurts... where am I, last I remember I was kidnapped and dark magic was casted on me by one of my uncles"

Katarina: "dark magic?, where are you from?, maybe I can help what's your name?"

Alice: " my name its Alice Claes, but um its werid now I look at you cause you look alot like my mom"

Katarina: "Claes? I never meet you before, oh you must be one of my cousins.... wait I look like your mom?"

Alice: "yeah my mom is Katarina Claes"

Katarina: "oh my name is katarina claes too, that's pretty cool"

Alice: "that can't be right... if your Katarina and you look like my mom..... what year is this?"

Katarina: "2021?"

Alice: "Wait what! But how, it can't be unless..... I was sent back to the past.... which means...."

Her body starts to tremble with fear, katarina holds onto her stopping her from falling.

Katarina: "time travel! Wait I think I studied about that in class, theres black magic that can send someone to the past or future, if that's the case then...."

Alice: "I have to go back home, I can't say anymore with out changeing the future I've said enough"

Katarina: "from what you said does that mean your my future daughter!"

Katarina wasnt expecting this, she was in shock, but remained strong for Alice who was scared, thoughts ran threw her head, if this really is her future daughter then who is her father and who sent her to the past like this, was this part of her future doom flags. Was someone going to target her threw her future child.

Alice remained silent not wanting to talk anymore about where she came from, one wrong word or move she makes could change the future.

A voice calls out to Katarina taking her away from her thoughts it had also pulled Alice away from her thoughts too. They both looked down the tree and see Keith calling.

Keith: "hey sister we've all been looking for you, Anne has tea and sweets prepared"

Alice: "I know him to he looks alot like someone I know...."

Katarina places her hand on her shoulder.

Katarina: "why don't you join us, are you able to climb down?"

Alice: "I don't have much of a choice do I?"

Katarina: "nope, your eatting sweets with me and Keith, I guess that would be your uncle Keith right"

She teases her as she Pat's her shoulder.

Alice: "I can't say anymore, I've gave too much away already telling you your my mom"

Katarina: "wait so he might not be your uncle?, hmmmm well I will stop asking, let's go down shall we?"

Alice nods and gives her a sweet smile, she follows Katarina down the tree, Keith watches both girls coming down but was curious who this other girl is.

Katarina: "wow you really can climb trees"

Alice: "yeah my mom taught me, through my father doesn't like me doing it he thinks it's to dangerous so I get into trouble alot.... hes pretty stricken and to over protective of me"

Katarina: "sounds alot like someone I know, my mom scolds me too for climbing trees"

She giggles as Keith runs over to her.

Keith: "sister dont tell me you've seduced another one!"

Katarina: "oh no it's nothing like that Keith! Shes lost right Alice"

Alice: "yeah...."

Katarina: "hey you know, now that I look at you both you guys could be twins"

She couldn't help but laugh at there reactions as Keith and Alice look at each as there faces flush red.

Keith: "sister what are you talking about, I dont have a twin, we look nothing alike either"

Katarina: "oh that's right Keith, this is Alice Claes, shes been sent from the future and she needs help to get back home, isn't she so adorable!"

Keith: "wait what.....future! Is that really possible, I didn't think time travel was possible"

Katarina: "yeah, someone casted dark magic on her and she ended up here, oh shes also my future daughter, how cool is that Keith!"

Keith: "wait did you say daughter? Shes your future daughter?"

Alice remains silent not wanting to interrupt them. As Keith looks at her.

Keith: "if that's true then how do we send her back to her own timeline, and who's her father?"

Katarina: "who knows she won't tell me, something about changing the future?"

Alice: "if I say anything about the future it may change things..... as for who my father is, I thought maybe you might of worked that out by now based on who I resemble most"

Katarina: "hold on not twins you guys ain't twins, woah hold up, for real! I know who it is, it has to be you keith! She has my eyes, and she's clearly resembles you in looks and same hair colour too!"

Keith's faces flush red as she points at him.

Keith: "wait what!"

Alice nods as they both look at her.

Alice: "yeah he's my father, I cant say anything else about the future, enough has come out as it is, I may of damaged the future enough as it is coming face to face with you both...... I just want to go home to my mom and dad"

She clings to Keith as she cries into his chest, Keith really didnt know what to do at this point, he was shocked, but yet happy too, hearing he will one day win Katarina's heart.

Keith: "dddddd daughter, I have a daughter with........"

Katarina: "I'm shocked, Keith! I know you confessed lately but this, I never expected"

Keith: "I think we should talk about this later sister, shes really clinging onto me in tears, we should do something"

Katarina: "I know what to do!"

She goes over placing her hands on her shoulder .

Katarina: "hey, it's going to be okay, let's eat some sweets then we can go and see a friend of mine, he knows alot about dark magic, maybe he will, know how to send you home"

Alice: "uncle Raphael and uncle Sora?"

Katarina: "yeah, through maybe you shouldn't call them uncle when we see them"

Alice: "yeah your right, I don't want to mess anything up, dad will be super annoyed with me if I mess the future up, I call all my mom's friends aunt and uncle, it's a habit I have, I will try and not say it if I see them"

She let's go of Keith as she wipes her tears.

Keith: "makes sense I'd be annoyed if you messed up the future, what's been said today stays between us three for now, lord and madam can't know about this either, for now we tell them your a guest staying for a few days till we can find away to get you home"

Katarina: "oh man, wish I could tell everyone I have a really cute furure daughter"

Keith: "no sister, bad idea if Geordo and the others find out, don't you think they'd end up hurt? That could most definitely change the future, they can not know about her"

Alice: "he's right, they can't know, if they ask just tell them I'm a distant cousin, its okay to tell sora and Raphael, the rest is to stay between us, through I'm finding it real hard to call you both by your names, I mean your both going to be my parents one day"

Katarina: "hm then why dont you just call us what ever makes you feel comfortable, but only when where alone? I don't mind if you call me mom"

Keith: "Sister!"

His face turns red with embrassment from hearing her say that,this was all a shock to him still, he never expected to run into his future daughter and here's Katarina acting all normal with this situation.

Alice: "sure if you don't mind me calling you mom"

Alice smiles at her, causing Katarina's heart to flutter she has that same cute innocent smile as Keith did as a child.

Katarina: "your so cute! Hey how old are you"

Alice: "I just turned 15, so um i dont want to sound rude but, I'm getting pretty hungry"

Katarina: "yeah me too, hey Keith or should I say dad"

She nudges him in his side with her elbow as she teases him.

Keith: "hey! Sister don't call me that, its embrassing!"

Katarina and Alice both giggle at his reaction.

Alice: "he hasn't changed a bit, he even calls you big sis still"

Katarina: "what for real?"

Alice: "yeah, I asked him about it once and he said it's a bad habbit of his"

Keith: "you really are from the future huh? Which means you weren't making it all up, your really my daughter?"

Alice: "sure am, I have two younger twin brothers and another sibling on the way, you will have your hands full future dad"

She playfully winks at him as she links onto Katarina's arm. Keith's face couldn't go any redder than what it was already.

Keith: "that many, lots of kids? With sister!"

His heart was racing in his chest to the point he felt like he was gonna pass out. What struck him the hardest was being called dad, it felt kinda nice to him but also made him feel weird.

Katarina: "hey hurry up Keith, or we will eat all the sweets with out you"

Alice: "yeah hurry up dad!!!"

Keith: "ah! I'm coming sister..."

He mumbles alittle something to him self not wanting them to hear.

Keith: "does she have to call me that, I'm not prepared to be called such things...."

To be continued.

#keith claes #the my next life as a villainess #hamefura #katarina claes #fanfic

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

Text

Bloodstone | Part 6

Summary: You knew all about the ring your grandmother had told you about and yet when the stone fell from it one fateful day, you weren’t truly prepared for its return, nor who it came back with.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: fantasy / romance

Warnings: none

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Your dreams were becoming too heated to remain within and you urged your dream version to remove yourself from within Namjoon’s arms, hoping the return to reality would cool you down.

Instead, when you opened your eyes, you slowly grew alert to the fact that you were still within Namjoon’s arms. Were you still within your dreams?

Looking around as best as you could, given the firm hold the divinity had over your body, you realised that you weren’t in the bed you had laid upon within your slumber. Now you were on the floor, where you had left Namjoon to sleep last night.

Why were you here?

Gently pushing on Namjoon’s shoulder, you stirred the man from his own dream state, his gaze widening as he took in your predicament also. “Oh no.”

“I don’t know how I got down here,” you mumbled as you both sat up, embarrassed energy filling the room.

“I might have pulled you to me if my dreams were anything to go by.”

You braved a look in his direction. “You were dreaming of me as well?”

“Explicitly.”

“Would you perhaps like a glass of water to cool down with?” you offered and Namjoon nodded, getting to his feet. He held out his hand to help you up and you took it, the sensation of the dreams rushing forward stunning you both to the spot. After the moment passed, you separated hastily, both marching down to the living room, away from any remaining desires that had enveloped your bedroom overnight. Still, even after gulping down your water, and Namjoon going back for a second glass, the awkwardness remained.

“It’s not as if either of us actually wanted that to happen,” you attempted and Namjoon nodded vigorously.

“Right, it’s just a dream.”

“Yep, just a dream.”

And yet it the heady thoughts remained above you both. Deciding a break from your apartment was needed sooner than you planned, you gestured for Namjoon to change so you could go grocery shopping. You figured you could have breakfast out as well, giving in to your need to escape further.

Once dressed, you met Namjoon in the small hallway by your front door. “Ready?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted with a nervous smile and you instinctively reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. You both watched the action you had made, your cheeks colouring crimson at the fact that you didn’t want to let go.

Holding up your linked hands, Namjoon shrugged. “Maybe we just need to get used to this?”

“I guess so,” you murmured, reaching for your keys on the stand by the door before opening it. “Shall we go now?”

You hoped the flutters in your stomach would settle by the time you reached the ground floor. However, they followed you consistently. You ate at a nearby coffee house, the bustle and the smells delighting Namjoon to the point that you didn’t want him to stop smiling.

You were falling in deep already, much like his cheeks keep dipping further and creating his dimples.

By the time you got to the grocery store, you had almost forgotten that Namjoon had only been in your world for two days now.

Pulling out a trolley, you gestured for him to take it. “What is this?”

“Where we’re going to put our supplies.”

“And this is what you call a market?” he continued, looking around himself in wonderment. “Ours is nothing like this.”

“I’m sure the Farmer’s Market would resemble something more to your liking,” you suggested with a smile. “Maybe we can go this weekend.”

“I would love to.”

Smiling at one another momentarily, you then pulled out the list you had made over breakfast on your phone, heading over to the display of oranges and placing some into your reusable bag. Now reaching for some bananas, Namjoon stepped out from behind the trolley and pointed to the sign. “Is this displaying the currency?”

You nodded. “This is a good deal today. Do you like bananas?”

“I like most fruits,” he agreed, moving along to the row of apples and looking at the price tags. Namjoon pointed to a specific type. “These are the best value.”

“That didn’t take you long to figure out,” you answered, coming over to his side. “I’m impressed.”

“It’s not hard to compare the prices, Y/N.”

“I’m not very efficient when shopping. I just grab what I like.”

“What about conserving your funds for the future?”

“I guess I live more in the moment,” you admitted with flushed cheeks and Namjoon nodded.

“Perhaps I can help you with our purchases today,” he stated and you grinned.

“So long as you don’t try to stop me from buying cookies then I’m willing to try!”

You seemed to be having fun alongside Namjoon as you did the groceries. He bargained with you multiple times and you continued to point out all your favourite foods for him to try. He could tell when you struggled to fit all your groceries into the bags you had carried out of the house that you had purchased more than you usually did.

But your bright smile only made him giddy with happiness as he reached to take the box of what you had referred to as cereal from your bag and slipped it into his.

Your smile grew further and almost blinded him. “Thank you! Normally I don’t have so many sets of hands!”

“Nor as much food, I’m guessing.”

“There’s the two of us now and this will easily last us an entire week.”

Namjoon tried to settle the way his chest surged with the way you had accepted his presence in your world. It wasn’t the first time you had referred to you both as now a pair, and he chose not to be troubled by your wording right now. He was already over-stimulated by the sights and the people here, his mind working hard to understand and to try and control the urge to explore more and more of this metropolitan. He couldn’t also stop his heart hurtling along with new feelings despite the rational thoughts at the back of his mind right now.

He would deal with the consequences later.

However, later didn’t come. Several days went by and Namjoon was growing accustomed to your routine. You would wake precisely when the beeping noise that you called an alarm went off at seven, eat breakfast together and then you would sit in front of your computer and go to work. He still didn’t understand what your job entailed, but you tapped a lot at the keys and seemed productive enough that he left you to it. You would appear at multiple times during the day, for coffee – which he had decided after trying was definitely a human, not a divinity brew – or to stretch from sitting for so long.

And each time you would come over to where he was and mindlessly reach out for him. Namjoon was expectant of this now, and if you didn’t reach out for his hand, he’d make sure his found yours, the mutual smile shared warming both your souls.

At night, you spent it curled up on the couch together and since the first couple of times waking up within each other’s arms, he no longer took to the floor, slipping under the sheets beside you when the lights were turned out.

This routine suited Namjoon just fine.

He sighed contently when you rolled over and into his side, nuzzling him in your sleep. Unlike you, he was awake as the sun rose, a habit he had from since he was young. It was these times where he soaked in little details about you, finding himself pushing those niggling thoughts further into the back of his mind.

Later. He wanted to deal with them all later.

As he found himself gently stroking your hair back from your face, he held his breath at the desire mounting. The dreams didn’t end, if anything, they only intensified. He breathed you in during the day and you remained embedded throughout the night, constantly dizzying him. Perhaps that was why clarity had little place within the muddiness of his growing feelings. He didn’t know who liked you more, his own heart or the stone, and frankly, he had no drive to figure out either way.

Namjoon simply wanted later to never come.

Leaning in closer, he bit his bottom lip, trying to keep them to himself. He hadn’t yet kissed you outside of the world in his dreams but each day that went by was making it harder not to try. He wanted just a little taste, searching for confirmation that it was just as heavenly as it was projected each night.

He was close enough to do it now, too close. His breath fanning over your face in short releases, he wondered if you would even wake up if he were to simply brush his mouth against yours. The temptation steadily rose, bubbling to the surface with need.

And before he could kiss you, it was you who leaned in and closed the gap. The surprise he felt was washed away by overwhelming passion. The soft peck he had envisioned ended with you pushing into him with demand, a groan leaving him as his hands encircled your waist and drew you closer.

It was magnetic, as if your lips were only made for his and couldn’t tear away quickly enough. The kiss deepened, sending his vision behind his closed eyes into a bright white dimension with stars lighting up the new galaxy you shared. This was more than a taste. He was drowning within you. And he didn’t want it to stop.

You managed what he thought to be impossible and separated your mouth just far enough from his to let out a breathy chuckle. He grinned up at you, laughing at finding you on top of him, much as he often did within his dreams. You seemed to think the same, nodding a little as you caressed his chest through his shirt. “That was some wake-up call.”

“Your alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”

“Maybe I prefer this one.”

“I don’t beep like that does.”

You grinned wickedly. “No, you moan.”

“Should we start the day early?”

“I think I need to test that this alarm won’t malfunction with another kiss.”

Namjoon drew you in closer. “I think if we keep this up, there will be no turning back for either of us.”

“Was there ever going to be?”

As you kissed him again passionately, Namjoon thought back to the juvenile statement you both shared about not being in love on his first day here. He had been certain he wouldn’t fall for the charms of the stone.

Namjoon had fallen for yours instead.

_________________

Part 7

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sparrowwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Final Fantasy Writing Challenge Day Seventeen: Ladybugs

Day Sixteen -- Masterpost -- Day Eighteen

Having people barging into his office was so expected that Hythlodaeus hadn’t needed to keep his door shut in years. Having one of his best friends barge in on him while he was working was also completely within average parameters. He’d even made a habit of keeping snacks in case someone came hungry.

What wasn’t normal was Artemis barging into his office holding a preview of a concept that had been on display on one of the lower floors of the Bureau of the Architect. She shoved it in his face as she leaned across his desk. “I searched everywhere I could for name of whoever originated this and I can’t find it. You’re the Chief so you either already know or you can find out.” There was an urgency to her voice that was very unlike her.

Before Hythlodaeus could respond, Apollo also stumbled into the office. He was short of breath, as if he’d been chasing after his twin. Which he probably had done, all things considered. “Can’t just...run off...without...words…” He said when he could manage to speak.

“I need. To know. The name.” Artemis hadn’t turned from staring down Hythlodaeus. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he didn’t have to. He knew her well enough to know that she hadn’t even blinked.

Taking this very rare moment of seriousness for what it was, he gently took the preview of the concept from her hand and examined it. Inside was a model of an insect. A beetle, from the look of it--an exoskeleton that had wing casings that split in half to allow the diaphanous limbs to spread for flight; short stubby antenna to sense the world around it; twin pincers next to its mouth; six legs that ended in fine, almost unnoticeable hairs to allow for climbing surfaces. Unlike most beetles that Hythlodaeus had examined, this one’s coloring was primarily red with black spots dotting its shell in a random pattern. When he queried the preview, a name came up immediately: ladybug.

The contributor was marked as Anonymous. His clearance let him find out why.

“Well?” Artemis demanded.

“Well it’s no wonder you couldn’t discover the name.” He said while handing it back to her. “Whoever it was didn’t want to be known to the public.”

“WHAT?!”

“Not everyone likes to be in the public eye, sis.” Apollo shook his head. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, considering who we are and who we know.” He made a significant look in Hythlodaeus’ direction. “No offense.”

“None taken, unless you wish for me to play the part of Emet-Selch for a moment.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Hythlodaeus cleared his throat. “How dare you, Apollo. I resemble that remark.”

Apollo responded with a thumbs up. “I don’t know how you do it, but you sound more and more like him every time you try.”

Artemis slammed her hands on the desk. “Can we focus, you two?”

The men both paused, then looked to each other before turning their faces to her. Clearing his throat again, Hythlodaeus spoke first. “Alright, I’ll ask since no one’s said anything about it yet: What’s going on, Artemis? You’re acting...well, more like Hades than usual.” Apollo worried at his lip while nodding in agreement.

Her jaw was tight while her head turned away. It was Apollo’s turn to be Azem, so her white mask showed a little more of her dour expression. “I just...want to know who made the ladybug concept. It seems…” She hesitated. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried and failed to come up with something to answer him with. Finally Artemis settled on, “I want to see what sort of mind could come up with it.”

Hythlodaeus set his face as neutrally as he could and steepled his fingers. “I really shouldn’t ask, but I’m going to anyway. You’re sure you want to find them?”

“Absolutely.” Her earlier hesitation was gone.

After a dramatic pause (by the end of which he was sure that she was about to lean across the desk again and smack the heel of her palm into his mask), he opened his hands with a somewhat helpless shrug. “Alright then, I’ll see what I can do.”

Her relief was instant. “Thank you, Hythlodaeus.”

“Well of course! Anyone that interests you this much without even having met them is bound to be an interesting person.”

------

“You know,” Hythlodaeus said to two of his best friends as he watched the scene happening in front of them from a distance. “I had high expectations for their meeting, but I’m somewhat disappointed.”

“It goes to show that you need some more reasonable expectations.” Emet-Selch drawled. He had been on his way to the office of the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect when the twins and Chief himself had passed him by. Naturally the three of them had bodily dragged him along for the journey to find the creator of concepts that Artemis had been keen to meet. When they were within sight of the greenhouse that the Amaroutine worked at, she had broken off from the group to go ahead and meet them with a spoken warning of what was to come should her best friends (and brother) follow. Naturally, the three had moved to be just within sight of her and no further.

They had been waiting in that spot for quite a while.

“That’s rich, coming from you. ‘I’m Hades and of course Azem can do the impossible, they’ve done it every day they’ve been in office!’”

Emet-Selch stared back at Hythlodaeus. His red mask made his menace all the more obvious. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do and you know it.”

“He’s right you know,” Apollo chimed in. “Every other time we get an assignment, you’re the first one to cheer us on.” He grinned. “In your own way, of course.”

“Well I never.” Emet-Selch put a hand to his chest in dramatic shock. “What shocking accusations from two of my best friends. I hardly think I can recover.” His quietly growing smirk gave him away. “Although if we’re about to throw slander around, I have a few things to say about the two of you.”

“I thought you three would be in gossip mode by the time I got back.” Artemis’ voice interrupted the game. All three men turned and she gave them a wave. She had a far more peaceful expression on her face.

Both Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch looked at each other. Even though their respective masks hid the upper parts of their faces, it was absolutely clear that their eyebrows had been raised up to their hairline. Apollo looked more relieved than shocked. “Looks like it went well,” He said with a smile.

“Yeah...yeah it did.” Her own smile was far softer than anything her best friends had ever seen her exhibit before.

After waiting an appropriate amount of time (about thirty seconds), Hades said, “We should meet this fellow if he’s capable of producing soft feelings in Artemis of all people.”

Hythlodaeus chimed in as if the two had rehearsed, “Absolutely. If he’s to be involved with our Artemis, surely he must know he has three people he needs to impress.”

“D-don’t pull me into this,” Apollo immediately held his hands up and took a step back. “I’m fine with whatever she’s comfortable with.”

“Two people, then.”

“Two people with quite exacting standards,” Hades added. He was so full of smug that his smirk had become a full blown grin. “We need a full profile of him immediately.”

“With at least three character witnesses.” Hythlodaeus was also grinning from ear to ear.

The parts of Artemis’ face that could be seen were quickly coloring from the onslaught. “If both of you don’t stop that I’m going to--”

Instead of addressing her quickly growing rage, Emet-Selch turned his attention to Hythlodaeus. “You never did say what his name was before we got here.”

“Oh right! His name is Darsus!”

“Hm, I shall have to look him up later.”

“Guys, stop before--” But Apollo’s warning came too late. Artemis had already conjured up a concept of lightning to chase her two best friends with.

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petersasteria · 5 years ago

Text

Oof - Harry Holland (10)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I don’t know how photo shoots work so yeah. I’m sorry, I guess.

Pairing: Harry Holland x Model!Reader

Based on my Harry Holland one shot of the same title.

Harry Holland Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || Oof Materlist

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: He liked her for a long time, but she didn’t know he existed.

Harry's eyes widen when he sees the text. In fact, he's never clicked on a text so fast before. He was too busy freaking out to form some kind of reply. Harry stares at his phone as his heart beats faster than normal. Harry shouts for Tom and Harrison.

"TOM!! HAZ!! COME DOWN HERE!! I NEED YOUR HELP!!" Harry shouts. The two men quickly run down the stairs and to the living room where Harry is currently hopping around and doing random things with his phone on his hands. He's not staying still, that's for sure.

"Are you being possessed or something?!" Tom shrieks in panic. Harry never reacted like that before and Tom, being the older brother, is freaking out because their mom will totally kill him.

"You div!" Harrison slaps Tom's arms. "If he were possessed, he would've talked to us with a demonic voice! He's not possessed! Calm the fuck down, Thomas." He says as he looks at Harry, "And that goes for you too!"

Harry calms down and so does Tom. Harry sits down on the middle of the couch and leans back. Tom and Harrison stare at him, waiting for him to say something.

"...So what do you need help with?" Tom asks, sitting next to Harry while Harrison sits in front of the brothers on the coffee table.

"Y/N." Harry breathes.

"What about her?" Harrison asks.

"S-She texted- She texted me!" Harry stammers. He hands his phone to Harrison and Tom sits beside Harrison for him to see the text.

Unknown Hey! It's Y/N. Is this Harry Holland?

"You left her on read?!" Tom says loudly.

"That's what I need help with! I don't know what to say!" Harry whines.

"Um, how about start with confirming that it's you, you twat!" Harrison shakes his head as he types out a reply. He hits send and gives the phone back to Harry. "You're welcome, by the way." He adds.

Just as they're about to stand up from the coffee table, they hear Harry's phone 'ping', notifying them that Harry received a new message.

"It's from Y/N. She's a fast replier." Harry says.

Tom and Harrison quickly sit on either side of Harry. Together, they all look at Y/N reply.

Y/N That's a relief! I thought Harrison gave me a wrong number. Anyway, Harrison showed me your photography account earlier and I'd like to personally message you and tell you that I admire your work! That being said, I'd like to work with you.

"Oh my god. What the fuck will I say?!" Harry freaks out.

"Isn't this what you've been wanting and dreaming for YEARS?? Go for it!" Tom says excitedly as he lightly shakes Harry by the shoulders.

"If it makes you feel better, at the restaurant we were in, she asked me if there was any way that you could take her pictures. I gave your number instead because you haven't texted her since you bumped into a pole. She's been expecting a text from you, you know?" Harrison explains.

"She's been expecting a text from ME??" Harry asks, his face turning red like a tomato.

"Yeah. She wanted to know if you were okay after that incident but you didn't text her or anything. Now's your chance, mate! Go for it!" Harrison says.

"Okay!" Harry smiles.

Harry I'm very flattered that you liked my work! And yes, I'd be very interested in working with you too!

Harry hits the send button, feeling proud that he sent a decent reply. Tom and Harrison pat his back as if saying that they, too, are proud of him.

"Let us know how it goes, alright?" Harrison says as he stands up to leave. Tom gets up and leaves too. Harry gets another text.

Y/N Awesome! Are you free tomorrow?

Harry Yes, I am!

Y/N Great! We'll start tomorrow. You can bring some friends. It'll just be me at home tomorrow and I don't really invite my friends at home bc reasons lmao.

Harry's about to reply when Y/N sends another message.

Y/N Bring Harrison! I'm quite fond of him. He's really fun :)

Harry Of course! I'll let him know.

Y/N Send me ur address and I'll let my driver fetch you. That way you wouldn't have to use your car or whatever lol. Be ready by 10am. Y'all can have lunch here.

Harry grins and sends his address but not forgetting to add: "good night! I'm looking forward to tomorrow x"

Harry gets up from the couch, turns off the lights in the living room and walks up the stairs to Harrison's room. He knocks and pokes his head in Harrison's room.

"We're going to Y/N's tomorrow. Be ready by 10am." Harry says.

"Sure! I'll be dressed by then." Harrison chuckles.

"Aight. Cool. Thanks again, Haz. I owe you one!" Harry chuckles before leaving to knock on Tom's door.

"It's open!" Tom's faint voice says. Harry opens the door slightly, enough for half of him to enter his brother's room.

"We're going to Y/N's tomorrow! Be ready by 10am. Her driver will pick us up. I'll text Sam about it later." Harry says excitedly.

"Okay then." Tom laughs. "You're lucky it's my day off."

"Yeah, whatever. Don't forget!" Harry says.

"I won't. Now, get out of my room." Tom says and throws a pillow at him.

Harry quickly leaves before he gets hit. He goes straight to his room and texts Sam about it.

Harry Yo Y/N's inviting me to her place and she said I could bring someone.

Sam You thought of me? I'm so flattered SKSKHJSHFH

Harry Don't feel special. I invited Haz and Tom too LMAO

Sam That's hurtful, Harry Robert. Very hurtful. But lmao yeah sure I'd love to come lol

Harry gr8!

Sam Did you just type like you're from the early 2000s??

Harry Deal with it, bitch. Be here before 10am xoxo, gossip girl

Sam GOSSIP GIRL I- sure lmao see u then, dickwad

Harry good night, asshole love u

Sam love myself too x

Harry fuck u bro :(

Sam i'm obvs kidding lol love u too x

Harry shakes his head with a smile on his face and charges his phone before going to sleep.

Everyone in the house wakes up early. Sam arrives at 7am which baffles everyone because it's too early. "I figured I'd get ready here instead." Sam yawns as he goes up the stairs to put his duffel bag in the spare bedroom.

"I think he's sleeping over." Tom says.

Harry shrugs and shouts, "Sam, are you sleeping over?"

"Yeah!" Sam shouts back from the room. "I'll take a shower now so that I won't be the last one to get ready!"

"Okay!" All three boys shout before eating breakfast. After a few hours, it's almost 10am and everyone's already ready.

"Y/N texted me!" Harry says.

"What she say?" Harrison asks, not looking up from his phone.

Harry reads Y/N's text, "Jeeves will arrive there shortly. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you last night. I was really tired but if you could bring your swimsuits or whatever, that'll be great!"

Harry looks at them and says, "Well, you heard what I said. Let's get our swimming trunks!"

"Thank god I brought mine!" Sam lets out a sigh of relief as he checks his drawstring bag.

"You knew we'd swim?" Tom asks with furrowed eyebrows. Sam shrugs, "You expect me to not expect that we'd swim? C'mon, guys. She basically lives in a mansion. Of fucking course there's a pool!"

"I mean... true, though." Harrison nods before going to his room to get his trunks. The rest of the boys did the same except for Sam. The doorbell rings and Sam opens the door.

"Good morning! My name is Jeeves. I'm Ms. Y/N's chauffeur. Are you Mr. Harry Holland?" Jeeves asks in a posh accent.

"Oh, hello! I'm not him. He's my twin." Sam says. "Would you like to come in?"

"No, thank you. Will you be coming with Mr. Harry?"

"Yes! There will be three of us who will join Harry." Sam says.

"Okay. I shall wait out here." Jeeves says with a smile.

"Alright." Sam says before turning around to shout, "Guys! Jeeves is here!"

Three boys come running down the stairs and they quickly grab their bags in the living room before going out. Sam is already outside with Jeeves. When all of them are outside, Jeeves leads them to the car which is a limousine. Jeeves opens the door for them and allows them to get in before going to the driver's side, getting in, and driving.

"Please help yourself with some refreshments. Ms. Y/N personally put it there herself. She wants her friends to have a wonderful time on the way to her house." Jeeves says as he presses a button to make the inside of the limousine light up and to make the cooler open by itself.

"There's a remote just below the door handle. You may use that to play some songs, change songs, watch on the mini tv, or do some karaoke." Jeeves adds before pulling up the small divider so that he wouldn't bother them.

Tom fills up the glasses and passes them around. Harrison takes the remote because it's right next to him, "Guys, anyone up for a little karaoke session?"

"Only if we'll sing the most iconic song" Harry says as he sips his drink.

"Are we all thinking of the same song?" Sam asks as all of them look at each other.

"Okay we'll all say the song that we have in mind on the count of three." Tom suggests. "1... 2... 3!"

"BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY!!" All four them say.

"Huh, we do share one brain cell." Tom chuckles. "Play the song, Haz!"

Harrison sets up the song and hands them all the microphones. "We'll go alphabetically. Me first. Then Harry. Then Sam and then Tom goes last." Harrison says as everyone nods.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?" Harrison starts.

"Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality." Harry sings passionately.

"Open your eyes. Look up to the skies and seeeeeeeee!" Sam continues.

"I'm just a poor boy! I need no sympathy because I'm-" Tom sings and encourages everyone to sing the next line.

"Easy come, easy go. Little high, little low." They all sing in sync.

"Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to meeeeee." Harrison sings dramatically.

"To me." Harry continues.

Sam makes the piano sounds by himself as everyone laughs. They all enjoy the song until it comes to the operatic section.

(a/n: I'll write it like a script bc it's easier I'm so sorry sksks)

Harrison: I see a little silhouetto of a man

Everyone: Scaramouche, scaramouche! Will you do the Fandango?

Harry: Thunderbolt and lightning-

Sam: Very, very frightening me!

Tom, closes eyes for dramatic effect: Galileo!

Harrison: Galileo!

Harry: Galileo!

Sam: Galileo!

Tom: Galileo figaro-

Harrison and Harry: MAGNIFICOOOO

Sam: But I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me

Tom, tries singing like he's from a choir: He's just a poor boy from a poor family

Harrison, imitates Tom: Spare him his life from this monstrosity!

"For the record, we're not poor, Sam. We're alright." Tom says to Sam as Harry sings his line.

"Shut up, Tom." Sam says and continues, "Bismillah! No, we will not let you go!"

This went on until the last line.

Tom, closes his eyes to feel the moment: Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me!

Harrison: For me!

Harry: FOR ME!!!!!

"I think I nailed that high note!" Harry laughs as the instrumental play. Everyone laughs too. Soon, they finish the song and they cheer and sing other songs. After that, Jeeves puts down the barrier and says, "Excuse me, I hate to interrupt your time, but we're here."

The four boys immediately clean up and turn off the lights and karaoke. They all look out the window and stare at the mansion. "So, you're telling me she has the whole place to herself?" Sam asks in awe.

"Are you sure we aren't at the Palace of Versailles?" Tom asks quietly. "This is like, a smaller version of Versailles. I swear."

"So, you're telling me she's lived here all her life? Lucky, oh my god." Harrison gasps.

Jeeves stops the car in front of the house. He gets out of the car and opens the door for them. The four lads get out of the car with their things and Jeeves walks them to the door. He rings the doorbell and waits for Y/N to answer.

Y/N opens the door wearing a one-piece swimsuit and denim shorts. She smiles at the sight of her guests, "Hey! Come in! It's so nice to see new people!!"

"Thanks for having us, Y/N!" Harrison smiles as he gives her a short hug before entering the house.

"It's no problem! Just go straight and you'll see a door that leads to the pool area. You can bring your things there too and the food is ready!" Y/N smiles excitedly as the last boy enters the house. "Thanks, Jeeves! I'll pay you later."

"You're welcome, Ms. Y/N." Jeeves smiles before leaving to park to limousine. Y/N closes the door and follows the boys to the pool area.

"The interior is so great! I love the whole Palace of Versailles theme." Tom compliments as he looks around.

"It's been like this since I was little." Y/N giggles. "Thank you."

They arrive at the pool area and they each pick out their chaise. Once everyone is settled, Y/N tells them that their food is on the outdoor dining area already. They make their way there and sit down and eat. Y/N is sitting at the head of the table. On her right, are the twins and on her left, are Tom and Harrison.

They talk about random things when Y/N stares at Tom for a long time. Tom notices this and clears his throat, "Is something wrong?"

Y/N snaps out of it and shakes her head, "Nah. I just- Do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar."

Tom smirks slightly, "To be fair, I'm quite everywhere."

"Yeah, he's an actor." Harrison adds as he sips his champagne.

Y/N's mouth forms a small 'o' shape and says, "Really? Where have I seen you? What movies are you in?"

"Spider-Man: Homecoming?" Tom asks. Y/N furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head.

"Okay, um, Spider-Man: Far From Home? I was with Jake Gyllenhaal in it." Tom says in hopes that she might know or it might jog her memory or something. Y/N makes a sound that equates to a 'no'.

"Onward? It's Disney." Tom suggests.

"The ones that are blue like the Smurfs?" Y/N asks. Tom smiles and nods, "Yeah! I'm the-"

"Nah, I didn't watch it. Anything else?" Y/N asks. Tom just stares at her in disbelief and licks his lips as he looks at his brothers and Harrison to ask for help.

Harry holds back his laughter and can't offer his help. So, he drinks his champagne instead. Harrison does the same thing. Sam shakes his head, smiles and turns to Y/N, "Dolittle with Robert Downey Jr., perhaps? He's the dog."

"I've been meaning to watch that. At least now I know he's in it. What else?"

"Avengers: Infinity War? Avengers: Endgame? Captain America: Civil War?" Harry asks. Y/N shakes her head, "Nope. Never watched them."

"Um, The Impossible?" Harrison shrugs.

"What? Kim Possible?" Y/N asks. Harrison sighs, "Um... Pilgrimage?"

"The one about the monks and shit?" Y/N asks.

"YES!!" Tom says in frustration.

"Oh, I know that! I watched it, like, a bunch of times. Are you that young monk boy?" Y/N questions with a million dollar smile.

Tom nods, "Yes. That's me."

Y/N laughs loudly. The four boys look at each other weirdly. Y/N calms down and wipes away the tears in her eyes due to laughing, "I was messing with you. Of course I know who you are! Well, not your real name, but I know your face. I've seen those movies! I just didn't pay attention that much."

"You're not the only one who can act, Mr. Peter Parker." Y/N winks and Tom smiles shyly and looks down to hide the blush on his cheeks. "But I really do know you from somewhere! Not from any movie."

Y/N stares at Tom and shouts, "THE GROCERY STORE!!! WE TOOK PICTURES AT THE GROCERY STORE."

"Oh, right!!!!" Tom says in realization.

"Small world, huh?" Y/N chuckles. "So, what's a successful actor doing in my home? Are you related to Harrison?"

"I'm just his best mate." Harrison says with a smile. "He's related to Sam and Harry."

Y/N turns to the twins and nods, "Of course! How foolish of me. I now see the resemblance. Which one of you is Harry?"

Harry raises his hand, "That'll be me."

"Ahh, yes! The pole guy. How's your head?" Y/N chuckles.

"It's alright. It doesn't hurt anymore." Harry blushes and runs a hand through his hair.

"That's good to hear." Y/N smiles. "Anyway, I invited Harry here because I need a photographer. If I recall correctly, I told you that I wanted to work with you. I'm actually offering you a job as my photographer. You'll be with me everywhere. You take my pictures, I post them and credit you by tagging you in it and I pay you, of course. Photography is art and it deserves to be paid for."

"So," Y/N meets Harry's gaze. "Will you accept it?"

Everyone looks at Harry and Tom kicks him under the table for a response. "U-Um, sure! I'd love to!" Harry replies and Y/N claps.

"Yay! Let's celebrate!" Y/N giggles and stands up from the table. She takes off her expensive bracelet and lets her hair down and says, "Last one in the pool has to buy pizza!"

Everyone runs to the pool and Tom was the last one to get in.

"Aww, shit!" Tom sighs as he splashes around the pool. "What fancy pizza do you want, Y/N?"

"Anything, really. If you think I'm one of those snobby rich kids, please think differently. I'm not like them... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Y/N giggles.

"Tom. Tom Holland."

"Is it short for 'Thomas'?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'll call you, Thomas. I want to be different. That's why I don't call Harrison by his nickname." Y/N looks at Harry and says, "Obviously, I know you now."

She looks at Sam and asks, "Et toi? Comment tu t'appelles?"

"Je m'appelle Sam." He smirks. Y/N laughs, "You're one of the few people who replied to me in French... I like you already. What do you do, Sam?"

"I cook and stuff. I also play piano." Sam smiles.

"My parents will be throwing an anniversary party next week and I'm in charge of the whole party. Is it alright if you'll play the piano when they dance?" Y/N asks. "I'll pay you five thousand pounds. Is that enough?"

Sam's jaw drops, "That's more than enough, actually. I'd be happy to play for them."

"Cool beans. I'll AirDrop you the songs later, okay? Let's swim while Tom orders the pizza!" Y/N laughs and everyone laughs too.

"Ahh, fuck you guys." Tom chuckles as he gets out of the pool to grab his phone and order pizza. Tom turns to them and smiles to himself as he sees everyone having fun. He opens the camera app on his phone and takes a picture of them laughing and splashing around in the pool before ordering the pizza.

It is at that moment that Tom realizes that Y/N's right. She really is different from the other privileged kids like her. Tom also realizes that Harry's made the right choice in falling for this girl.

* * * *

sorry i haven't updated in a long time so here's a 3.2k words chapter x

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @osterfieldnholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @parker-potters @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles

#harry holland #harry holland fanfiction #harry holland fanfic #harry holland fic #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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rdr2dd · 4 years ago

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Goals, Moving Forward, Etc.

Because I’ve gotten a few comments/questions asking about the other projects I’ve mentioned, and also for the purpose of giving myself some clear goals to work toward, I want to nail down the direction(s) that this project is probably headed. Excuse the gratuitous detail, but as is likely becoming clear from my posts, that’s how I work best :p

Project 1: Arthur’s Hidden Family

Goal 1: Finding Eliza -

Accomplished, largely, so hurrah for that. There was a lot of background work to get to this point, even beyond the details I gave in the most recent post about it, so I am beyond glad to have finally gotten it done. This step has already laid a lot of the groundwork for future steps. And also, I’m just happy to finally have a face for her.

Goal 2: Conjuring up Isaac - No progress thus far, but I’ve done some planning on how I want to handle this. No files exist for Isaac, at least not that I’ve been able to find thus far, so any models/textures for him would be entirely non-canon/custom work. There’s no element of bringing hidden assets to light here, like there was with Eliza; having a workable model for Isaac would be purely for my own heart’s sake, and for the sake of being able to do fanart renders involving him. This probably involves:

Using Jack (4 yrs old) as a base model, as I’m not talented or experienced enough to sculpt these models from scratch. Facial features would need to be altered to find a resemblance to both Arthur and Eliza.

Digging through the files to see if there are even other young children in the game to draw assets from - Arthur Londonderry’s son comes to mind, but I’m not sure if he’s the right age range, and I’m honestly drawing a blank beyond that. If anyone remembers seeing any kids in the game, please drop me a note as to where you saw them.

Possibly resizing/altering adult NPC assets such as hairstyles in order to give Isaac a fitting and unique appearance. This sounds like a headache, but may be reasonable enough to do. We shall see.

Lots of custom texture work, largely for his face, which will be especially hard/dicey if there aren’t other children’s models to borrow textures from.

Goal 3: Finding the Time - Less technical and more research-oriented, I need to nail down a timeline that I’m personally happy with with regards to when in Arthur’s life the events with Eliza and Isaac occurred. Once this is done, it’ll make it easier to decide what to do with Arthur in any renders I may want to do with the three of them. Which ties into...

Project 2: The Old Guard (Expanded)

This was the project I originally had in mind when I started scrounging around for these files. I have an unreasonably huge soft spot in my heart for the ‘curious couple and their unruly son’, but also, just the young gang in general. Hosea back when he’d steal anything not nailed down? Dutch, young and idealistic and years before his downfall? Arthur, young and broody but not yet hardened? Little John, still feral and a menace? Badass, gorgeous young Grimshaw? Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes, please. Not to mention Bessie and Annabelle, who must have mattered so much to these characters, but who we hear and see so little about. I want to be able to do fanart renders with them, but that’s going to take a hell of a lot of work.

Goal 1: Nail Down the Timeline - I’ve started working on this, but there’s a lot I still need to do in terms of skimming audio files and digging deep in the lore. I want to get a general idea of when it seems folks joined the gang, that way I can get an idea of which models I even need to work with. Heavy focus on figuring out:

When Tilly joined the gang, as I lean toward her being around quite early, but would like to review the audio. I know there are some numbers dropped in a few missions, with regards to when she joined the Foreman Brothers and when she left them to join the Van der Linde Gang, and I want to get this as accurate as possible.

When Hosea went off with Bessie, and when she passed. We have some context clues, I just need to nail down the math and then feel out the dramatic timing for the rest.

What the deal was with Annabelle. Maybe I just have a passion for the ladies name-dropped once in the game, but good god do I love Annabelle despite knowing absolutely nothing about her. She should be a non-character, but this is a passion project, so there’s no way I’ll be ignoring her.

What to do about Sean. He couldn’t have joined until after 1889, but depending on what year I want to deal with for renders, I may need to account for him. That wouldn’t be a hardship, as he’s one of my faves.

Goal 2: Knock Out the “Easy” Models - By which I mean Hosea, Dutch, Arthur, and Susan. This will involve some custom sculpting work, but not a whole lot, as their base models for 1899 shouldn’t actually require that much alteration. I imagine I’ll be ironing out a bunch of wrinkles, smoothing out a bunch of normal maps, and then using the clone brush and a sampling of generic NPC face textures in order to create younger-looking face textures for this lot. “Easy” is definitely a relative term here, but I’m counting my blessings in that there are, at the very least, reference images for what this lot looked like in the early days. I still have no idea if I’ll be able to accomplish this, or how hard it will be if I can.

Goal 3: John - An intermediate difficulty step, for John alone. We have no reference images of young, 12/13 year old John, but we do have Jack’s 12 yr old model, and that will serve as a decent base to work from, hopefully. I’ll have to make sure to alter his features to be more in line with John’s, and will have to work heavily with his skin/face textures from there. Clothes will be another hurdle, especially as (referenced above), we see like, next to no children in the game for me to borrow NPC clothing parts from. I’ll need to work with what we get from Jack and otherwise resize and rework adult NPC clothing.

Goal 4: Bessie (and Others) - Stepping up the workload again, though in different ways. Bessie will be a task to work out, seeing as we have a single, not particularly great reference image of her facing straight ahead. It’s not much to work with, but it’s something to work toward matching. No two ways around it, she’ll be mostly custom work and mash-ups of generic NPC materials, but it’ll be a labor of love. Also sliding Tilly and (potentially) young Sean in here, as depending on their age there will be a lot of work to do on them, possibly including custom model work, and we don’t have references for what they looked like when they were younger. I’ll make do.

Goal 5: Annabelle - The holy grail in terms of custom work, or the ultimate slog uphill, we shall see. We have no reference images of her. No traces of her exist in the files. We hardly have any clue about how she died, let alone how she lived. And yet, I love her, or at least the potential of her. Hopefully all of my work on the ‘known’ quantities of this project will give me some hope of turning out a unique and fitting model for her, but who knows.

Project 3: Audio Directory

Goal ??? - On pause for the foreseeable future, mostly as I’ll need to do some networking before I’m totally comfortable putting this out there, and also because holy hell have I set up a bunch of other work for myself. The Dream(TM) was to find a way to set up a directory for folks to more easily find audio files on their own. There’s no way to host all of the assorted cool audio from RDR2 online, but it would theoretically be possible to set up a sort of file directory online, a list of file names and descriptions, to help folks browse their audio files on their own without having to reinvent (or in this case, rediscover) the wheel personally. I’m of the opinion that pulling apart the game files should be an all-hands-on-deck sort of situation, but there are a lot of folks who have already put in this work individually, and I don’t want to step on any toes. I also don’t want to be responsible for anyone mucking around with their game files and having trouble down the road, so I’d need to sort out a clear explanation of what precautions to take, etc. It’s a lot to consider, so I’m obviously open to input.

Wrap-Up

If you’re still reading, congrats(?) and also, thank you. This is all a bunch of planning for some real pie-in-the-sky shit, but I felt that way about finding Eliza in the files about two months ago, so I have hope. If you’ve got thoughts on any step, please, hit me! I want to hear what folks want to see, though I can’t make any promises on what I’ll deliver. Got thoughts on the timeline or headcanons for the less-referenced characters? I’d love to hear. I would also love to hear from anyone with experience on projects like this; goodness knows I’m a self-taught novice.

#rdr2 #rdr2 eliza #rdr2 annabelle #young van der linde gang #rdr2 bessie #rdr2dd bts

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