#and I hardly remember my childhood anymore so I cherish it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothwizardmagic · 2 years ago

Text

I promised myself I’d make something myself for each OFMP prompt and idk how well I’ll stick to that but here are my “entries” for day 1! A small collection of character pieces - I bashed together the first two in the middle of the night after taking my evening meds so they are. not my most coherent writing ever lol & then I wrote the rest in a frenzy this morning before the second set of prompts dropped - Jim’s was inspired by a quote from a recent panel Vico did where they said they get their strength from their femininity & their softness from their masculinity and they took that energy into Jim, which I think is very cool.

CW: Show-typical violence in Izzy’s section.

Read on Ao3

Prompt 1: Team Mascots

Blackbeard/Ed

Edward Teach started building a shield the day he killed his father, and it was one he never intended to let down. He constructed Blackbeard like a suit of armour, one he grew to wear so comfortably he forgot he could take it off. Blackbeard was leather and blades, and Edward folded himself away with the scrap of silk he had carried all these years, folded himself so small that he almost wasn’t sure he was there anymore.

And then Stede had reached in between the cracks in his armour as though it never even existed and held the silk, held him so delicately, seeing a precious thing in Edward where he had ceased to even exist to others anymore. Though he hadn’t truly processed it at the time, Blackbeard had died for good in that instant. He had shed the armour without a second thought, and for the first time in his life, Edward walked lightly through the world.

It was a lightness that had become a curse, the bitter sea air lashing his bare face as a painful, cruel reminder that his armour was gone for good, whether he liked it or not. Blackbeard had died so that Edward could live, and there was no other way to live than to do what he had always done. With the flutter of old fabric so lovingly carried and preserved, Edward cast away his own softness and allowed himself to harden to the core, to become the armour he had always worn.

And if despite it all he could do nothing but weep all night, that was something no-one would ever have to know.

Stede

Soft. All his life, it had been thrown at him as an insult, and though he knew no other way to be, Stede cringed at the word. Whatever he did it seemed to never be enough - the world acted as though everything his childhood bullies had thought him to be was true and awful, a problem buried deep at his core, and that was that.

The sea was a perfectly acceptable escape, he thought. One could hardly be considered soft at sea, after all. The sea was for hardy men, and piracy even moreso. Merely by the act of being called a pirate one would be seen as dashing and tough, all the things Stede had never managed to be on land. He would find his people, a worthy crew to help him live a tough man’s life, and softness wouldn’t chase him any longer.

And then he had seen the silk Blackbeard wore so close to his heart.

Blackbeard, the pirate to end all pirates, so they said. The man feared across the seas, carried something so soft at his core, held it so dear, cherished it so lovingly. A man who yearned for softness, for comfort, the kind of life Stede had been running from for as long as he could remember. The kind of man Stede had run from being.

Seeing the tenderness in Ed’s face, he couldn’t help but think perhaps it wasn’t so bad to be soft after all.

Jim

It was only ever supposed to be a disguise, the easiest way they could think to stay hidden from Spanish Jackie. She was looking for a girl, all sharp edges and ruthlessness. Oluwande had been the one to actually figure it out, hands delicate as he attached the beard he had bought, as he figured out how to fit the sculpted nose onto Jim’s, every touch filled with nothing but care. Bonifacia was no more, and now it was time to learn to live as Jim.

It seemed the next logical step to find places on a ship no-one would be looking on. An unknown pirate was a good start, and the bizarrest and least effective one either of them had ever met only made things better. No-one would even think to look for them here.

Jim had thought that being treated differently by men would be the strangest part of this, and while it was certainly new it wasn’t the thing that took the most adjusting to. No, that was how right it felt, to be Jim. Jim hadn’t been shaped to be a weapon of war - he carried those skills, certainly, but he had been shaped instead by Olu’s soft hands, built out of care and warmth. With Olu being Jim’s voice, they could no longer move through the world like a dagger thrown with precision. Though the rest of the crew found Jim intimidating, he was never as much of a danger as Bonifacia had been.

It was a surprise, then, that when the beard came off Bonifacia didn’t return. Jim took everything she had given them and curled Jim around it, weaving the two of them together into a new person, a person who could be both and neither at once, soft with Olu and sharp with a blade. A person who felt right and real and alive.

Lucius

Pirating was easy enough, when you made it that way. A wink here, a blow job there, and it wasn’t all that hard to get out of doing any actual work. Of course, life would be far more comfortable on land, but that had stopped being an option a long time ago. And it wasn’t like he hated it, far from it. It was freeing, sharing company with whoever he pleased and living a life unfettered by responsibility or expectations. After all, nobody needed a wife at sea.

Joining the crew of the Revenge had been a no-brainer, though Lucius doubted this situation would last all that long. A captain who paid wages meant even less work, no pillaging necessary to fill the coffers when they were already being filled with the spoils of privilege. Duties were few and far between, and the crew themselves were really rather nice for the most part, though being dragged around as the captain’s scribe could get mind-numbingly dull.

And then Izzy Hands had happened, and for the first time in the longest time, Lucius had been given work, a job he hadn’t been able to talk or flirt his way out of. And a horrible one, at that. Though he quickly learned not all of Blackbeard’s crew were so hard to crack Izzy Hands remained a tough little nut, and for the first time in his life, Lucius felt like a challenge.

Izzy

Cold sea air, ropes bound bitingly tight, a knife pressed to a throat almost hard enough to draw blood - these were the things that made a man who he was. A man could withstand everything the world had to give and more, could feel the grind of life’s heel on his back and rise to stand another day.

That was what a man was. What any man should want - a servant and a rival all wrapped in one, ready to take anything dished out and even prod for more. No real man wanted nice or soft. Those were things to conquer, to show the real ways of the world as you were grinding them into dust. Stede Bonnet should have been another rich little weakling in their way, to chew up and spit out. Instead he had chewed up Edward, and whatever he had spat out was unrecognisable as the Blackbeard feared across the seas. Bonnet was an infection, and the problem was much deeper than his weak-willed crew, maybe even deeper than whatever he had made of Blackbeard.

The biggest danger, one Izzy would never admit even to himself, was the few moments he had found himself wanting to sink into the embrace of Bonnet’s soft armchairs, to wrap himself in fine silk and never leave. It was poison to everything he was, everything he had built himself to be, and Izzy would have to work harder than ever to stomp it out, to destroy those parts of himself that should have died long ago.

The brutal, beautiful agony of his toe being severed from his body was almost a relief. Bonnet hadn’t managed to poison everything.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #ofmd fanfic #blackbeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #jim jimenez #lucius spriggs #izzy hands #israel hands #blackbonnet #jim x oluwande #steddy hands #if you squint #no i did not proofread any of this ❤#ofmp #my fic

25 notes · View notes

lunawritingspaceoxoxxx · 3 years ago

Text

Unresponsive II

Three months

Three

Three months

Y/N thrived in the art world, their first displayed piece expressed the raw feeling of losing a love that was so exciting and heart racing and trying to manage in this bland, cold world. They glanced out towards the concrete jungle, watching people hustle and bustle around; single mothers, business men, ladies of the night, etc. They sighed, walking towards the canvas, rubbing their face as they tried to create anything from this creative funk. They knew this was coming from the trip to the falling out with Jennie, suppressing it until they couldn’t anymore, breaking down from just feeling absolute shit from just everything, they cried for their lost friendship, for Damiano, for everything that they sacrificed to get her. When they first started dating Damiano, they were in college for communications and journalism and for the most part, they enjoyed it for the most part and they thought it was going to stick for the most part and then they met Damiano. He came through like a hurricane, tearing through their world and showing them more than just their little small town as he sent pictures of places that he toured at, sending love letters and expensive jewelry.And they cherished every single one, keeping them in a small box underneath their bed, unable to stand even looking at them. Y/N rolled their neck as they pulled off their shirt, tossing it to the side as they grabbed a paint can as they stared at the blank canvas in determination.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“‘Up and coming painter,Y/N L/N, has been hospitalized at New York’s mental hospital. They’ve been experiencing vivid hallucinations and long periods of mania, breaking the glass of their high rise apartment. One theory is giving a little bit of insight to why they’re acting like this, some say she hasn’t been sleeping well or sleeping at all. They recently did a painting stream and you won’t believe this, for almost 30 hours. Some say that they didn’t move either, to eat or relieve themselves, so they potentially have an eating disorder as well.’'

Ethan scoffed as he changed the channel, tossing the remote to the side. “Lo sa ancora (Does he know yet)?” Ethan questioned as he opened a bottle of liquor, pouring himself a glass along with Thomas and Vic. “No, but he’ll probably know soon, you know he kept tabs on them. I don’t know why though, I’m pretty sure that they’re over with.” Damiano stepped through the door, looking worse for wear as he stomped through the room, taking the swing of the bottle. “Damiano….” “Just don’t. I don’t want to hear it, I know they’re in the hospital and-” “Dude, we’re just wondering if you’re okay, we don’t care about them-” Damiano stopped as he glared at Thomas, bending down in front of him. “I don’t give a shit how I feel, but you’re not going to disrespect Y/N in front of me. You can do it anywhere else, but around me.” Ethan quietly watched him as he slammed the door shut. “Maybe he’s onto something, he knows them better than us, maybe they’re nice.” Vic spoke up after a while, rubbing her neck as she felt an insane amount of guilt. She knew that Y/N knew that, and the rest of the band didn’t like them. They were so different from Damiano’s partners, none of his partners were foriegn, Y/N was an American and they did things differently than they do. “Are you okay, Vic, you look like you have an idea that none of us are going to like.” Vic was going to make this right and help these two useless lovebirds. “Pack all of your shit, we’re going to America.”

“What do you mean they’re not here? Where could they go?” The receptionist stared blankly at three before grabbing the phone. “If I knew that, I still couldn’t tell you because of HIPAA, if you don’t leave, I will call security.” They quickly stepped out of the building, disappointed as they looked at themselves. “Okay, so we’re going back home right?” Ethan looked done with everything, glaring at the paparazzi that made their way down the street. “We’re going to look for them, I’m not giving up, Damiano is close to shutting down completely and leaving the band. We owe it to him to at least help him either get back together or help him move on.” Vic realized during the ten-hour flight how well Damiano was doing much better with them in his life, they actively made sure that he was eating and remembering important small details. They were a match made in heaven and according to Vic, everyone needed someone to manage in the cruel world. “I know that they have a friend named Jennie, we just have to find where she’s at.”

“The world hasn’t been too kind to you, hasn’t it?” An older man glanced towards the backseat, frowning as he occasionally watched his child sleep. They looked exhausted and ready to throw in the towel from this brutal boxing match. He remembered them, crying into the phone, on the verge of a panic attack as they tried to form a coherent sentence and the next thing he knew, he was on a flight headed to New York. He knew that after the death of their mother, his wife, that they weren’t okay, but it was their senior year of high school and they got into a very prestigious school. They just kept going and going, no time to grieve and he was surprised that it took them so long to do so. As a father, he wanted to protect them from the outside world and yet, he couldn’t be there for them and it frustrated him so much. He pulled into a dirt road, sighing as they made their way down that familiar path. “I just want you to be happy again, just have this snarkier, larger than life attitude, and enjoy yourself. If you didn’t know, I’m proud of you and I’ll make sure that you know that for the rest of your life.”

“So you’re that Måneskin? Not going to lie, I thought Y/N was lying about him, you know? They seem a little...off the rails.” Ethan furrowed his eyebrows at Jennie as she basically walked around naked. “Is there another Måneskin band that we don’t know about? I’m getting sidetracked, where is Y/N? I know they had a breakdown and I thought in America you had to stay there for three days so?” Jennie just looked at the other woman, shrugging her shoulders as she walked into her kitchen, dancing to trashy pop music. “I really don’t know and I really don’t care, I didn’t consider Y/N as my friend. When they came to New York, I just took advantage of that, they were from the South. They came here and wanted to make all of the friends, wanting to get close with everybody and you know what? I could see them, slowly crack and not be their cheerful self and -” “God, no wonder they acted like that, they have you in their right ear, being a negative bitch and making themselves feel like shit.” Thomas spoke up as she pouted, making Ethan and Vic wear a puzzled look on their faces. “How are you making this about yourself? They’re obviously not in a good mental state, don’t make this about you.” Ethan shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as he looked around, coughing awkwardly. Jennie raised her eyebrows at them before she opened the door, pointing out. “Get the fuck out of my apartment and never come back. You’re lucky that I became friends with that hillbilly freak, no one else would ever deal with them.” Once again, they were stumped, they had no leads and they were pretty much ready to give up and call it a day. “...Vic, why are you doing this? Be honest with us, why do you feel this urge to help them? What have they done for you to help them?” “Because Damiano..has become a better person because of them, he’s been worse than this before. He would sleep around, not caring about who he hurt in the process and he was just sinking further and further. Then Y/N came along, they became friends and it took months of Damiano being called out for him to change and during that time frame, he fell in love with Y/N. ...I was jealous, he was more open with them than me. I’ve known him longer than anyone else and it was painful for me to hear him express his dreams and feelings to someone else. I wanted him to express himself with me instead of trying to act like he’s okay with whatever he was dealing with. That’s why I despised them, my jealousy got the best of me and it clouded my judgement.”

2 MONTHS LATER

Y/N watched the fields of corn as they seemed to continue on, never ending as the days went on. They were mounted on their childhood horse, Luna, as they explored the unchanging surroundings around them. Everything was the same, albeit, it really wasn’t, people passed away and some left to bigger and better things and the town that they grew up with just faded away. It was a ghost town, hardly anything stayed in town, all of the mom and pop shops shut down as the older generation retired and their children didn’t want to run a store. Y/N was lucky to have such great parents and allowed them to explore and learn everything they wanted to know. They never held that against their parents, they knew that just being the weird kid would have been sheltered because they knew how society treated children who didn’t fit into the norm. ”Whatca thinkin about?” “Nothing really, just relaxing, thinking, I don’t know what else to do, I don’t want to go back to New York quite yet. I don’t want to paint..it just reminds me of him, and losing him was the second worst pain that I've dealt with. I remember when mom died and I just pushed myself through, buried myself in my college work and...Damiano helped me decompress, I lost my rock and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to see me. His group just won Eurovision and they’re getting international attention…” Their father watched them carefully, walking next to them. “Let me ask you a question, why did you and Damiano fight? Let’s start from there.” Y/N stopped Luna as they spun around to face the older man. “We fought because I traveled all the way to Rome and got drunk for two weeks. I thought we were going to spend time together and he would take me to see his favorite places-” “Did you tell him that? Before you confronted him?” Their father gave him that same look that they loved to give. Y/N had this bad habit where they'd daydream about important conversations and not have those said conversations in real life, they looked away shamefully. “No...I didn’t” “You know men are dumb as rocks, you need to tell us everything or we won’t pick up on hints that you drop. When your mother was pregnant with you, she would constantly get mad when I didn’t do things which led her to getting a chalkboard to let me know what I needed to do. Good communication makes a relationship thrive and survive, you can’t be silent and expect him to come to you. Now, do you want with this information, there’s someone who would love to speak to you.” A car sped down the dirt path, unfamiliar with this terrain, stopping as they rushed out of the car. “How did he even..” They urged Luna to slowly make their way back inwards, nervously glancing back towards their father, he only nodded as he urged them to continue on.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for…” Damiano trailed off as he watched them slowly trotted over to him. “..How did you even find me?” “Honestly, I spent hours upon hours looking through our facetimes and I just wanted to see you...I have so much to say and I just��.Ti amo e voglio essere con te(I love you and I want to be with you), I’m hurting when you are and I realized that I can’t imagine myself without you. You’ve been there when I was at my lowest and you know me so personally and I don’t want to lose you.” Damiano grasped their waist as he pulled them into his chest. “Damia-” “No, let me talk first, you were absolutely right, we should’ve talked about what we should’ve done when you visited. I was stupid to think-” Y/N covered his mouth, shaking their head, “No, I’m partially to blame as well, I didn’t communicate what I wanted and I ended up causing a scene and I embarrassed you in front of everyone and your bandmates probably hate me even more.” Damiano wasn’t even listening to what they were saying, unable to focus on anything else but them, he quickly took their face in his hands, eagerly kissing as he ran his hands along their body, gripping their hips. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, did you?” “Diavolo, no(Hell no), you’re too distracting for me to focus.” He chuckled, pulling them closer to him, smirking when they gasped. “Don’t give me that look, I’ve always wanted to sleep with my amore on their childhood bedroom, let’s make that into a reality, shall we?”

#damiano david x reader #maneskin x reader #gender neutral reader #if you want some smut let me know

36 notes · View notes

isiratrieswriting · 2 years ago

Text

Entry No 11

Letter for Kay

Dear Kay.

“I hate you very very much!”

“I hate you even more!”

Do you remember that game our class played once, where you had to speak the opposite of what you meant? We went around saying all sorts of senseless stuff, laughing at each other, enjoying the silly pastime.

And then at the end of the day, while we were getting ready to leave, I told you how much I liked you, and you said you liked me much more. Of course, the two of us were still playing the game.

I was so very happy when I heard that. To this day, It remains my fondest memory of you. Innocent joys, I suppose.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How have you been, dear Kay?

Although, I’m not entirely sure I can even address you as dear Kay anymore, close as we had been through the summers of our childhood.

Playgrounds. Birthday parties. Sharing snacks. Listening to you talk. Punching you on the shoulder, playfully of course. Helping each other with homework. Walking together.

You don’t bring many specific memories to my mind’s eyes. Instead, these are simply feelings. Feelings of peace. Contentment. Comfort. I smile. Just a little.

As I write this and walk down memory lane, I notice that the memories of you are few and far between. Is it because I’m getting older, or were we never as close as I had imagined us to be?

I loved your company dearly, yet we didn’t have many meaningful interactions. Perhaps that is why every moment spent with you was something I treasured back then.

Time and again, I find myself asking: What is it of you that makes me remember you after all these years, even more than the one I called my best friend?

Aries was the energetic class clown, Scorpio intimidated me and Virgo simply existed to pick fights with me.

You, however, were calm. Thoughtful. Quiet. Intriguing, I suppose. Enigmatic, even.

To be perfectly honest Kay, I hardly know anymore.

But that drew me to you. I wanted to know you. I wanted to understand.

I happened to see you the other day. You didn’t recognize me and neither did I. Well, it’s only natural. Almost a decade has passed since we knew each other as children, and since then, we have grown into adults. I wonder if the child I knew is still there within you Kay? Or are you a completely new person now? I wouldn’t mind learning about you once again, but I can’t help but feel you wouldn’t consider the same for me.

There was always a distance between us, no matter how desperately I tried to cross it.

We did have some sort of a falling out too, didn’t we? Something about birthday parties and invitations. Ah, the woes of a child. I don’t clearly remember it anymore, nor do I wish to.

I remember you gave me a fuzzy little pencil holder, with a cute smiley face. It had a place on my study desk for a long time, until we lost it when we moved.

What do you represent Kay? I ask myself, as I have done before, knowing that I can never properly convey it.

What exactly is this assortment of feelings I attribute to your memory? There is no longing when I think of you, no pining for times past. Is it resigned acceptance then? Yet why did I feel the need to write about you then? You continue to confound me, as you used to, all those years ago. How in character.

Perhaps, I just want to feel again, how I used to feel in your company.

Kay, you mark a time in my life where I was truly unburdened, before I began to question and find answers I wished weren’t so. Simpler times, uncomplicated by the workings of this world.

The cloudless sky reminds me of you. Cherry blossoms wilting and I remember you. I hear the wisps of a childish tune and my mind goes back to you.

All was right in my little corner of the universe, walking down the streets and meeting you at the playground.

I was happier then.

I do not miss you, however. You remain a cherished memory, stored away carefully, that I pack and unpack whenever I wish to reminisce.

I wonder if you ever think of me.

#diary entry #rambles #childhood #thank you for the memories

2 notes · View notes

xaspiringbeamoflightx · 3 years ago

Note

1 to 30 (yes, all the questions)

What did you dream about last night?

“I was shipwrecked on an island with my friends and there was a cookie shortage. I staged a mutiny to get the cookies and lost, so they put me in the handshaking room where I had to shake hands with men who had really sweaty palms until I apologised.”

What is your favorite color?

“Well, obviously it’s pink,” she said, gesturing to the plethora of green items currently surrounding her.

Do you feel more connected to the moon or the sun?

“The sun. Freckle me up, baby!”

Have you ever wished on a shooting star?

“Of course! Can’t tell you what I wished though, it hasn’t come true yet.”

Name a movie that makes you genuinely laugh.

“The first Scooby-Doo movie, every single time.”

When’s the last time you felt like you were floating?

“Like three days ago. Iridessa made some brownies. They were potent.” @iridessa-sol

What do you enjoy daydreaming about most?

“The future, I guess? Like... what my house is going to look like, or my wedding. And I think I daydream about my friends a lot too.”

Do you believe in guardian angels?

“I think I did at some point. If they exist, mine has fucked off a few years ago.”

What’s a smell that reminds you of home?

“Lavender and Honey.”

What is something (or someone) you’re in love with?

“James! I love him. Probably too much, to be honest. It’ll probably kill me.”

Describe the memory of the last time you felt true happiness.

Tina has to think about it through the fog of all the not-great feelings she has had over the last few months. “James and me were in the kitchen. I think it was last Sunday. He was making that really nice casserole that I like, and I was sitting on the counter while the kettle boiled for our tea. He was mixing the stock in the pot and humming to himself. He just looked really... content? And then he caught me staring because I let the water over boil, and he gave me a kiss, and let me try the sauce and it was just really nice... He’s turning me into a sap.” @magicaljameshook

Name a song that makes you feel ethereal.

“Freshly Laundered Linen by Boom Forest.”

What’s your ideal summer aesthetic?

“Like clothing-wise? Short dress, short-shorts underneath, grass-stained knees and a daisy chain on my head.”

Talk about one of your most cherished childhood memories.

“Uh... The day me and Peter and the Lost Boys finished building the treehouse. We all carved our names at the foot of the tree, and made a pact. Which... well, you can guess how that pact is going. I don’t really feel like talking about old memories right now. You can ask them about it instead.”

Talk about something exciting or good that happened to you this year.

Once again, sifting through the fog. “I’ll be honest, everything that has happened since I got engaged last Christmas is a bit of a blur and I can’t remember if things happened last year or this year. Oh! James and me started doing some wedding planning! That’s been exciting.”

Where do you feel most at home?

“I don’t really know anymore... I guess I should say James’ house, but... his house is too big, and it doesn’t really feel like my home. It’s his, and I just sort of sleep in it. I feel home when I’m with him, but that’s not really a where. I feel pretty at home in my apartment, but I’m giving up my lease soon, and I’m hardly there now. I can’t say the Lost Boy’s treehouse, can I? I’m not allowed there anymore. The trees kind of feel like home too, by extension. I don’t know! I don’t know.”

What is something you own that is important to you? What makes it so important?

“I have a teapot of important keepsakes in my kitchen that I’ve kept since I moved into my apartment. I have my first friendship bracelet that I made for me and Peter in there, it was the first thing I put in, but my wrist is too fat for it now. And James’ mom’s ring, the one he used when we did that fake proposal game, before I liked him. I should probably get rid of that, his mom is horrible. But it’s pretty, and it was the first thing he ever gave me...”

Do you believe dreams have meanings or are they completely random?

“Oh, for sure they meanings! I don’t know what my cookie mutiny dream meant, but it for sure meant something!”

Do you believe in love at first sight?

“Only when it comes to teapots.”

What’s the sweetest thing someone has done for you?

“A few summers ago, someone spiked my drink at a festival and I got really sick. Well, I say sick, I had a, like... I don’t know, a depressive episode or something stupid like that and it lasted way too long. Anyway, James was the only one that really checked up on me, even though I had been really horrible to him not long before. He ran me a bath and made me something to eat, and made sure I was okay. “

Do you believe in mermaids?

“Uh, yes. Because they are real, and they will sing you down into the murky depths to your death.”

What do you like most about nature?

“Nothing brings you back to being a little kid like nature does. The smell of fresh cut grass, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, or feel of the air as a big summer storm is rolling in over the hills. It just reminds me of coming home with dirt on my dress and grass stains on my knees after playing outside with the Lost Boys all day.”

What’s your zodiac sign? Do you think you fit the general characteristics of that sign?

“I’m a Leo! Google says we are lively, fun, loyal, and honest which I think definitely describes me, right?” *snorts* “It also says Leos want deep devotion, focused attention at the proper times, and experience. That sounds about right.”

Are you more of a hopeless romantic or realist?

“I think everyone would be quick to disagree if I said realist.“

What’s a song that gives off good vibes anytime you listen to it?

“What I Like About You by Lillix (the superior version, just saying).”

Do you usually remember your dreams?

“If they’re really weird, then yeah.“

Have you ever written a love letter?

“Oh God, no! What am I? A sap?”

Name a book you don’t mind reading over and over.

“I don’t think I’ve ever read a book all the way through ever in my entire life.”

Do you collect anything? And what are some hobbies you have?

“Teapots! Broken ones, old ones, new ones. Bring me your teapots! I like fixing them. I also collect trinkets and shiny things and anything glittery. I also like playing with make-up and skin care, and drinking tea on the front step (that’s a hobby, right?) and making moodboards!”

What do you do to feel at peace?

“Fixing teapots. You can’t be angry when you’re trying to fix something or it just gets worse...”

#memeday #me: oh ffs #tina: YES! I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MYSELF!#some of these made tina really emotional...

2 notes · View notes

for-ests · 5 years ago

Text

Love It If We Made It: Oikawa x Reader (Part 3)

1 / 2 / mlist

word count: 3, 744

summary: you and oikawa share a kiss, and the truth finally comes out.

The sensation was overwhelming, yet you cherished every second of it. You gripped onto his jacket with entail, steadying yourself as your knees threatened to buckle underneath you.

It would never be possible to pour almost four years worth of emotions into one kiss.

Oikawa held onto you just as desperately, pressing into you and begging for more. His large hands moved up from your hips and against your arms. He was unsure where to place them—he was unsure how to please you.

Deepening the kiss, you pulled him down further. You didn’t want the moment to end, knowing nothing could be more blissful than finally gaining the courage to kiss the boy you loved back.

“Y/N…” Oikawa mumbled against your lips, his husky, needing tone, sent vibrations down through your core.

You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t move.

You moaned in response; wishing you could continue, wishing more than anything to show him how much you cared for him. If all your problems were nonexistent, you would confess.

But after your past mistakes—there was no room for error. Everything with Oikawa needed to be slow. It needed to be perfect.

Placing his hands back on both side of your cheeks, Oikawa pulled his lips away to breathe. The kiss made your eyes sparkle. Oikawa found your embarrassed expression incredibly charming. He always had, and he always would.

You gaze flickered up, demanding his utmost attention.

"Fuck, Tooru... why are you doing this to me?"

For a moment, neither of you noticed the tears filling your eyes. You didn’t even know until you felt the warm streams slide across your skin.

“You need to know how i feel about you.”

Your breath was gone, your voice refusing to sound. He had always felt this way about you? In the exact same way you had felt about him?

“How I’ve always felt…” I

You fell against him in defeat before he could finish his sentence. And shockingly, he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. An embrace that promised you safety.

“I feel it too. I always have.” You cried into his shirt, letting the tears finally flow in pure vulnerability. It was at that moment that Oikawa realized that he had never seen you cry before.

Even as a child, you were never weak. If anything, it was always you and Iwaizumi taking care of him. And even if he had just endured an embarrassing and dream-crushing defeat—he needed to be there for you.

This moment was going to be about you.

Lifting your head, you mumbled out a few words in hopes to stop yourself from crying. “I never got over you and we were never together… how can that be possible?”

Oikawa’s eyes glossed over. He could tell you were distraught, that you had been distraught all this time. Your relationship with him had ended so abruptly without any answers, without any communication. The boy had practically mourned his childhood friend, as if you had died. Your family had moved within days and all you said was ‘see you later’ like you were going on vacation, not able to fathom the sense of permanence.

Oh how badly he wanted to travel back in time to those days. The days when you and him could only care about whose house was going to have enough blankets to cover the rooftop of your pillow fort.

Despite his words, Oikawa’s face was graced with a smile. “I tried so hard to forget you. I tried to pretend it wasn’t real.”

“Me too.”

The boy closed the small gap to press his lips back against yours. You squeezed your eyes shut in response, relishing in the contact. With one simple action, Oikawa was able to send your heart back into overdrive.

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the sudden wave of mixed emotions. You were incredibly sad, yet the thought of finally being able to hold him in your arms was enough to silence your inner turmoil.

More. You wanted more. You wanted all of him and more.

Oikawa could see it in your eyes. He could read you like a book, the only book he had ever wanted to read in his short eighteen years of life.

Yet, there was still something he did not know. You were different and he needed to know why. To really share what you were hiding inside, Oikawa knew he needed to pry it out of you.

You had always been so closed off. But not with him.

“I want to make you mine, Y/N.” He whispered before he could properly formulate the rest of his thoughts. The boy was unable to deny how deeply you affected him, the thought of you alone making his heart race.

“But-“

“But what…?” Your shoulders immediately tensed. One word and your walls shot back up, your conscious immediately preparing you for heartbreak.

Trying to take a step back, you averted your gaze. But before your heels could even rest back against the parched soil, Oikawa pulled you back into his arms.

"I need you to tell me what happened.” His voice was soothing in your ear. His breath was gentle as it fanned down the side of your neck.

“Tell you about what?” You tried to deny him entrance by playing dumb. You didn’t want him to see this side of you. Nobody could. Nobody would.

Nobody but him…

Oikawa didn’t budge, relentlessly prying for information on your traumatic past. “I can just tell, Y/N. Something happened to you.”

The part of you that you hated refused to show weakness. You wanted so badly to discard the emotional trauma, you wanted to cry until you couldn’t cry anymore. You wanted to fall into Oikawa’s arms and have him hold you up. You wanted somebody to take care of you for once, somebody besides your parents that were hardly dealing with their own demons, the regret and self-loathing that followed the death of a child.

There was no handbook to guide you through the loss of a family member. One who had been ripped violently from your grasp without a proper goodbye.

How could you tell Oikawa? How could you relay the information that someone he knew as a child had passed away without his knowledge? Without a word from you or anyone else that knew him.

Was there any way to explain why he wasn’t invited to the funeral? Even if the answer was as simple as you had forgotten. Only family members had been allowed to attend, your parents unable to keep it together in front of anyone else.

“Tell me,” Oikawa breathed, eyes searching yours for a possible answer. Anything that could explain the despondency that littered your expression, your gaze, your movements. Where did the life and soul he had grown to love go? “You can tell me anything.” he promised, imploring for an answer at this point.

It broke his heart to see you like this. So desperate and lifeless, a stark contrast from the bubbly, shy, yet excited and playful girl that had been by his side for years.

Oikawa wanted her back. He needed her back. Or else he wasn’t sure how he would make it through his senior year unscathed by pain and disappointment.

Selfish, yes. But Oikawa was rarely selfish.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked. The boy was growing concerned that you had gone almost a minute without replying. Your eyes staring straight ahead, gears seeming to turn inside of your head as you tried to invent an excuse as to what happened to you.

Why were you so closed off?

“Please.” Oikawa exhaled, hand caressing your cheek once more. Your eyes closed shut in response, savoring his touch, his actions- practically everything about him that you had been deprived of for years.

“Haru died, Tooru—“ Your voice faltered at the mention of your brother's name. “He’s been dead for months.”

Oikawa swallowed hard, shock crossing his face in an overwhelming amount. It was evident that he had no knowledge of his passing. “Y-you’re brother?”

You nodded furiously, in hopes that you didn’t have to repeat the sentence. Now that part of the truth had been unveiled, you were bracing yourself for more questions.

“Oh my God…” Oikawa blinked, his sculpted nose scrunching in an unpleasant way as he briefly reflected on every moment he had spent with your baby brother. “Please tell me you’re joking…”

Tears graced his strikingly mystifying eyes. The sight of him falling apart at the mention of your brother's name caused you to panic. You weren’t even sure if he had remembered you brother, someone as popular and busy as Oikawa had many friends, with many siblings, and many family members.

But truthfully, you were the one who had forgotten about the moments you shared. The moments that Oikawa had cherished and held shocking close to his heart.

Another gust of wind blew over the cliff, strong enough to ruffle Oikawa’s brown strands so far out of place that he was briefly distracted. Now, to you, the wind felt like nothing. You wanted to feel it, yet there was nothing.

“No… no, he got in a car accident… with friends…”

But he didn't say anything at all, he just hugged you as tightly as he could. Nothing else had to be uttered, for Oikawa knew you well enough to realize all you needed was contact. Contact that you were unable to gain from another, for nobody else had compared to how safe you felt in his arms.

“Tooru-” The plea left your lips in desperation. How did you let this happen? You were supposed to be comforting him. He was the one who was devastated… Yet, now all he could focus on was making you feel sane again.

“Shh…” Gently, he rested his chin on the top of your head. “Everything will be okay in time.”

You gripped him back, letting your tears soak into his shirt. This was the first time you felt helpless in Oikawa’s arms. This was the first time uncertainty crept into your mind. You had always been so sure of your future plans. You had always been so sure of what was best for you, what you wanted, and what you wanted to care for.

Yet being able to nuzzle Oikawa’s chest again, brought a form of suppressed hope that made you question everything you had ever known. Recently, everything that had ever been stable in your life had been snatched away from you.

What was wrong in finally letting Oikawa truly in, in all of his entirety? If anything, that was what you deserved.

“With you, I might be okay.” Your words came out quickly, hopelessly unfiltered and truthful.

“Y/N,” Your name upon his lips caused shivers to course down your spine. How could you let someone have so much power over you?

With an immense amount of courage, you raised your head from the safety and comfort of his chest, Listening to his heartbeat was enough to put you at ease. The ringing in your ears subsided, and that's when a familiar sinking feeling resided back into your stomach.

There was still more to confess. From you and from him.

“There’s more.” Oikawa insisted. “I know there is.”

Clutching onto his hand for support, you nodded once more. There was no use in holding anything back. “The only boyfriend I ever had cheated on me, right before this all happened...”

You didn’t need to explain why it hurt so much. Even if you felt like you did, the pain was perceptible. For months you hadn’t processed the emotions you were feeling. As if there was even a correct way to mourn the loss of a brother and the loss of a lover at the same time.

Tears immediately filled Oikawa’s eyes. Angrily, he bit his lip, averting his eyes in shame. He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at himself. How could he let life take you away from him? The boy felt like he was meant to protect you, and you had been damaged every second he was absent.

But without the distance, he might have never been able to realize how deeply he cared for you. The love that had always occupied his heart and refused to leave.

“Who.” Oikawa demanded, squeezing your hands reassuringly. “Nobody gets to hurt my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat from the informality. It felt so good to hear him admit that. Your heart had always been his, even if you tried desperately to deny it. You didn’t want to be like everyone else. Everyone was infatuated with Oikawa whether both of you wanted to admit it or not.

“It doesn't… It doesn’t matter…” Your voice faltered. “I wasn’t your girl at the time.”

“You were before, and you are now.” Oikawa’s eyes were threatening to overflow, to expose the weakness he had been trying too hard to conceal. He didn't want you to see him like this. You were the last person he wanted to fall apart in front of. “It’s always been you.”

The corners of your lips upturned to form a smile. You had never wanted to be anyone else’s but his. That’s why your last breakup was so heartbreaking. You had used someone else, willing to try anything to get over Oikawa. It was childish, and that was your mistake, but in the end it had turned around to emotionally scar you.

Oikawa had made the same mistake, and received the same consequences.

Taken hostage by your emotions, you bunched your fingers around Oikawa’s warm-up jacket and pulled him back down to kiss you. The kiss wasn’t sweet this time, it was angry, it was filled with regret and remorse.

Oikawa didn’t want to stop. He wanted to continue until his lips were bruised and his heart was full.

Yet, despite the conformation in the kiss, there was still conflict in your eyes. Resting your hand against the hardness of his chest, your questions persisted. “What happened to you?”

The boy set his hand over yours. The waves crashing against the shoreline below had somehow increased in volume, but that was because the wind had subsided. No matter what he said, Oikawa would look back at this moment with you and cherish it.

There was something so beautiful laced within nature’s tranquility. It heightened Oikawa’s confession and his emotions. The stunning angle of the sun danced along your features, carving an angel out of an ordinary girl for one single boy--him.

Why couldn’t it have always been that way?

“I had a girlfriend for a while.” Oikawa’s eyes grew dark. “She broke up with me because she knew I was still in love with someone else.”

He had blamed it on volleyball. But in truth, he had never pursued another wholeheartedly. He didn’t want to, and he didn’t know why. He could have any girl he wanted. And now that you were back in his arms, the subconscious reasoning behind his desire was glaringly obvious.

Your mouth parted at the confession.

But before you could say anything, Oikawa continued. “That someone was you. I was never able to get over it because I realized it too late.”

“It happens.” You whispered, sympathizing with his previous actions. You had been in the same boat, but Oikawa was lucky enough to try with a girl who didn’t break his heart in the process. You weren’t as lucky, you were scarred, almost beyond repair.

What had happened in the past was inhibiting your eagerness to love Oikawa to your fullest potential. You didn’t want to ruin things with him. You knew the boy well, or you had, and you knew what made him tick. You knew what made him happy.

“It really doesn't…” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that to her.”

The mistakes from Oikawa’s past were not entirely uncommon. Yet, he was not afraid to admit his wrongdoings in your presence. That’s what made him strong in your eyes, and with his honesty and vulnerability, came the urge from within yourself to do the same.

Funnily enough, you were still jealous despite the blatant fact that Oikawa had always put you first. Even though you had no reason to be. For a relationship was two sided and you had neglected him as well.

Shoving those unwarranted feelings away, you decided to make him smile instead. He had such a blinding smile, one that could cheer you up no matter what topic was at hand. “I’m surprised you were even able to convince her in the first place to be your girlfriend… With your fangirls and all.”

“Wowww Y/N, you really have to bring that up after such a heartfelt moment, huh?” The boy shook his head, and when you finally saw his lips curve up with a grin, you poked him in return, hoping to rile him up even further. Like you used to, like you always had.

“I know…” You shrugged. For a moment, you were hesitant to admit it. But when you gazed into Oikawa’s eyes, you knew your admittance was safe with him. “I’m just a jealous person… I always have been.”

The boy seemed as if he wanted to bring you back into his arms. “As you should be.”

“Has any of…” You paused. “That changed?”

Suddenly, before you could fully fathom what your own words were referring to, you reflected on the countless moments of you watching girl after girl confess to Oikawa, of them giving him presents, and of them surrounding him to the point where you felt unwanted and rejected.

The memories were evident in your expression. Childish and immature maybe, but to you, it felt like the world. You couldn’t help how you felt because it was human nature. Jealousy, sadness, and possessiveness.

“I receive a lot of attention from others. But none of it is real. None of it matters.”

Oikawa meant it with every fiber in his being, with every single word he uttered, with every emotion he had ever felt towards you. Everything was heightened holding you in his arms, everything washed over him like a wave. Now that he was old enough to properly process the feelings that were deeply rooted within his soul.

“I would do anything for you.”

His words pulled tightly against your heartstrings, so forcefully that you felt the urge to make love with him for eternity. You couldn’t describe the feeling, relief? Was it relief over the countless years you had spent craving for his touch and affection?

“Me too.” You grasped his hands once more.

It was then that you realized the time spent without Oikawa was intended. The both of you needed to mature separately before you could truly come together as one. Even if you thought he was perfect, he wasn’t. He still had more growing to do, but now most of it could be with you by his side.

You were far from perfect then, and you will still far from perfect now. But you knew that Oikawa had changed, and now possibly, he could love you despite your faults.

Without being apart, your love for him might have remained in the shadows.

You were not children anymore.

Still, you wanted to feel like a child. You wanted to dive head first into the relationship you had always craved with Oikawa. What was stopping you now?

“I promise to never hurt you.” Oikawa said, squeezing your hand and leaning forward to press his lips against the top of your forehead.

“I believe you.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Snickering, you pulled away from him to fully immerse yourself in your surroundings before you and him left the magical spot. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”

“Do you know how stubborn you are? I prepared an entire speech in my head!”

“How thoughtful.” You grinned sheepishly.

“You always tease me, Y/N-Chan.” He rested his arm around your shoulders, nuzzling you with innocent and nostalgic affection.

“There it is.” You whispered, relieved to see that his normal, playful, and teasing nature was creeping back into his gestures and vocabulary.

“There is what?” He teased, knowing you had already deciphered the meaning behind the nickname. A nickname that had started with you and had branched out into his countless friends and other relationships.

You tilted your chin up, side-eyeing him with a simper. A simper that somehow spoke volumes about the underlying meanings with each sentence you spoke into the restless winds.

The breeze felt cool against your cheeks, stabilizing the heat that threatened to persevere. Yet, you remained warm under Oikawa’s frame, the weight of his body causing your mind to swell with endless possibilities.

Suddenly he shifted, he shifted in the way that you would have when you finally gained the courage to admit something that had been settled into your subconscious for weeks.

Out with it.

Oikawa shifted his gaze onto you, solely. “Y/N… Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart palpitated sharply. Was this the right move? Was this actually what you had been yearning for?

Searching his smoldering amber eyes, you found your answer. There was barely a second that passed before you replied. “That was all I ever wanted.”

He exhaled, so deeply that his breath fanned down the small of your neck. “Thank God.”

You loved him. You truly did, thinking it through, there was not a reason that you couldn’t.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence. A silence that was deafening in the most exhilarating way. Staring into the horizon, you were reminded of the many times you had gazed into it before. You had never brought anyone there before, not your brother, not your previous boyfriend. This had been your spot, but now it was the spot you shared with Oikawa.

And before you could realize, the hole in your heart, the hole that you had been desperate to fill for months, was healed.

And it was all because of Oikawa. The boy had you fallen in love with and had never fallen out of love with.

tag list!

@ardorwrites-hq-mha @cuddlyasahi @vventure @writeiolite @ushijimahayashi @heccingdead @benewol @lordeofthunder @haikoo @caxsthetic @evermorehaikyuu @alluring-akaashi @infamouswhitepawsies @theshirleygamer @taeabby95 @tamcitrus @ttttiddy

#oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuuwritersnet #oikawa tooru #oikawa tōru #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff

123 notes · View notes

7team7 · 4 years ago

Text

Choosing Fate: Chapter 8

A surprise leaves Sasuke and Sakura alone for a while. // Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

A/N: thank you everyone for your encouragement and kind words on this fic. I’m trying to dedicate myself to it and finish it before moving on to new stories, but sometimes that’s still a slower process than I expect? And the plot seems to want to complicate itself more, but I promise more ss moments are coming!! Hope this chapter is ok, the slow burn is still burning

Tsunade was relentless in her tutelage. Sakura’s tutoring sessions with Sasuke were idyllic in comparison. The older woman pushed and pushed and pushed.

But the discipline and hard work only served to strengthen her. Tsunade raised a brow when the petite woman cracked her knuckles before getting to work everyday. She knew she had found a determined student, but her dedication was truly something remarkable.

And it yielded results.

Once complicated combinations became embedded in her memory and her hands were able to move without thinking. Tsuande stopped lecturing and started questioning, pushing the envelope: What if we did this? What do you think of that? How would you approach it?

What started as a favor she agreed to do on a whim became a cherished relationship. Maybe Konoha wasn’t so bad.

Sakura greatly respected her teacher, but she barely knew the first thing about her. She used to keep her chatter to a minimum while they worked, but she had grown much more comfortable in the Senju’s house. “Tsunade-sama, you were never married, right?” For once, a woman’s professional work had superseded her romantic history.

Tsunade paused in the middle of tidying up some papers she pulled out for reference. The question wasn’t necessarily unwelcome, but it took her by surprise. No one had asked her about that in a long time. “No. There was someone I would’ve married, but we never got the chance.”

“Did he have to marry someone else?” Arranged marriage was awkward at best, but it would’ve been downright heartbreaking if she was already in love with someone else.

“He was hurt in battle. And I couldn’t save him.” She sighed heavily, “After him, there was no one else. Why do you think I leave the village so often?” The ghosts of her past would never stop haunting her. Her ties to Konoha weighed heavily.

“Oh,” she bit her lip, “I’m so sorry.” She assumed Tsunade was just a wild spirit, but the reality was much more tragic.

She shrugged. Time to change the subject. “And you? Was there someone else before that sulky brat?”

Sakura opened her mouth to protest, he was not a sulky brat! But then she remembered the way he would hang around outside Tsunade’s house if she wasn’t home before the sun set. “No, I was too young and too busy with my household chores to find someone else. But Sasuke’s not so bad…” She blushed a little; before, she could hardly fathom getting married to Sasuke but now, she couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else. She couldn’t fault him for their circumstances, even if he was a little rough around the edges.

“And your parents?”

“Ah, they were actually childhood sweethearts. Lucky them,” she said weakly.

“Well, I guess Sasuke’s good enough for you to stay.”

“What do you mean?”

“You could always leave. Plenty of women do it.”

“Oh,” she said, taken aback, “I had never considered that. Where would I even go?” She didn’t think she had a choice in the matter, or any other real options.

Tsunade raised a brow, “You could go home. Have you been home yet?”

Sakura laughed bitterly and confessed, “Actually, no. It’s not that I don’t want to, I guess I...just haven’t gathered the courage.” Was it her home there anymore? Was she a wife before she was a sister? She started fiddling with a stray herb that had escaped a jar.

She continued, “I miss my siblings dearly, but it’s easier to just stay away. If I visited home and saw everything I’ve been missing...it would be too hard to come back here. I don’t know if that makes me a good wife or a terrible sister.” She had assumed she was leaving for good after the wedding. Life as Uchiha Sakura might still be new and full of surprises, but it wasn’t completely miserable. Should she expect more? The leaf in her hands was completely pulverized after she worked her anxieties out on it.

Her mentor nodded in understanding. “You won’t figure it out in a day. And when you feel like you’ve got it, something will change and you’ll be back at square one. That’s life.”

Sakura nodded glumly. She supposed being young almost always meant standing at a crossroads. They got back to work.

Training and learning took up the majority of her time lately. She was exhausted, but not unhappy. Most days she stayed at Tsunade’s for long hours, only returning to frantically complete some chores. Today, Sakura slapped her palm to her forehead when she remembered that she had promised to help Mikoto fold dumplings. She all but flew out the door, shouting, “See you tomorrow!” before heading home. She rushed into the kitchen and greeted her mother-in-law. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help with lunch-” she started, but Mikoto held up a hand to stop her.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Tsunade is a formidable woman, history or not. There’s no reason for a young girl to be cooped up forever.” Her daughter in law always put on a brave face, but she could tell there was something missing.

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you for understanding. Still, I’ll try to be home a bit more.” She didn’t remember when she started calling this house her home, but she did have a certain obligation to maintain it. She would be so upset if Mikoto suddenly started abandoning her duties! Who would pick them up? Certainly not Fugaku.

Mikoto shook her head, smiling, “I’ve become content with being at home with my husband and children. But until that day comes for you, just lean on me. Go rest, I’ve got it.” Even as she spoke, she kept deftly folding dumpling skins like it was second nature.

“A-are you sure?” She had realized she was treated like a strange, permanent guest in the Uchiha household. In her childhood home, she was anything but a guest. “I’m sure. Sasuke’s home, by the way.” Sakura nodded and ventured off to find him, starting with the bedroom. It felt like ages since she’d last seen him.

“Where have you been?”

“Excuse me?” His tone was accusatory, but hers was incredulous. “I thought you supported me going? Don’t tell me you changed your mind.” His hot and cold personality was jarring.

“Didn’t think you’d be gone so often,” he grumbled. Those precious tutoring sessions together had been cut short by her lessons with Tsunade, but there was nothing he could do besides walk her there and back. He had half a mind to offer her another trip to the market just to get her to do something with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to impede on her schedule for such selfish reasons. So he sulked, even if he didn’t quite understand why he was so upset.

He had just finished getting dressed, perhaps taking a bit of extra time smoothing down his hair and clothes in an attempt to get her to look at him. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where? What makes you think I want to follow you anywhere?” If he felt like being a jerk, she would stay home and fold dumplings, thank you very much!

He sighed, like the answer was obvious. “We’re going to Itachi’s. Apparently Izumi’s been feeling off lately. They requested your presence.”

She perked up slightly but then remembered she was supposed to be mad. As maddening as her husband was, their fights were usually small and quickly diffused. “Fine, I’ll go. But are you sure it’s alright for me to leave the house instead of waiting on you hand and foot?”

“Annoying,” he muttered, leaving the room but not before he made sure his wife was following him.

Knock, knock, knock. Tsunade pursed her lips, who would be calling on her at this time of night? Everyone should be sitting down for dinner. She set down her cup of tea to answer the door.

To her pleasant surprise, Sakura stood at her doorstep looking breathless and bright-eyed. “I thought I sent you home hours ago?” Tsunade raised a brow at the girl.

“You did. But I have news! And because of that news I can’t stop for today. There’s more to do.” The words tumbled out of her mouth and if she didn’t slow down, she might just swallow her own tongue.

“More? But-”

“Izumi is pregnant!” Sakura blurted. A grin overtook her features, “Isn’t that exciting?” She pushed her way into Tsunade’s house for the second time that day. They had work to do! Sakura had so much to learn! Babies were so complicated.

The older woman sighed. Uchiha or not, it would be useful for Sakura to learn about midwifery and the like. Really, she couldn’t say no to her favorite student. She closed the door and rolled up her sleeves again.

“She started out weak, you said?” Tsunade was mulling over which round of roots and herbs to send with Sakura first. Izumi’s pregnancy was still new, but was already proving difficult and draining. Even a placebo would help reduce the expecting mother’s nerves.

“Mm, I had a suspicion that she has some kind of illness, and the pregnancy is just making things more difficult for her. I think she can carry to term, but she’ll need lots of rest. I want to do whatever I can to make this easier on her.”

Smart girl, she praised internally. She finally picked out the jars she was looking for, “Here. Crush that bottom one up and mix it with her tea, the other is an ointment to rub on her ankles when they swell. She should be resting in bed, but there might still be pain. And tell everyone to stop hovering, they’re so pesky.”

Sakura practically saluted her teacher, “You’ve got it, Tsunade-sama! I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh, I know you will,” she laughed affectionately. Her little apprentice was really something.

Between caring for Izumi and learning from Tsunade, Sakura barely had a moment to rest. While Sasuke initially made a few more snippy comments about not being home, he couldn’t help but feel the pride welling up inside of him. Other women had started seeking her advice and she earned a reputation as Tsunade’s apprentice who would one day surpass her. He felt smug thinking about how good of a mother Sakura would become, but then he reprimanded himself. He really needed to stop thinking like that.

When a contraction ripped through Izumi’s body, she immediately gasped, “Get Sakura.”

Sasuke all but sprinted to Tsunade’s house, but somehow, by the time they got back, half the clan had gotten wind of the labor. They had to shoulder their way into the house just to get a glimpse of the expecting mother.

“I thought you said you brought the best,” some grumpy old auntie eyed Sakura skeptically.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her, “Sakura is the best. Now everybody out, let her work.” No one dared question the authoritative tone in his voice. Sakura brushed past him after squeezing his arm in thanks.

Sakura thought she could be calm, but all sorts of emotions bubbled up inside of her when she knelt next to Izumi’s tense body. Her face twisted in pain and shone with sweat when she panted desperately, “I can’t lose this baby.” The implication was clear: or else she would prove useless as the one to produce the next heir.

And it broke Sakura’s heart. As a mother, she would naturally be worried about her child, but this was unacceptable.

“Everything is going to be fine,” she reassured her, even as her voice shook and she could barely believe her own words. “Now if someone could please get me some water.” Itachi practically tripped over his own feet fetching the water. She had never seen the man so on edge.

Sakura couldn’t help but let out her own sob when the baby’s first cry pierced the air and Izumi slumped back in relief.

After a tense eight months, Itachi and Izumi’s son is born, small but healthy. The clan breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was finally time to celebrate.

Once a few weeks passed, it is agreed that the new little family should visit Izumi’s parents for a while. After only exchanging letters for the past three years, it is only right that they got to see their new grandchild for a while. They were only distantly related to the Uchiha and had established residence in a different village. The journey would take a number of days and Mikoto and Fugaku insisted on going along.

Which meant the main house was left to only Sasuke and Sakura for at least a month.

A/N: HAHA THERE’S ONLY ONE HOUSE!! AND THEY ALREADY SHARE A BED!! Pervsuke incoming also hopefully it goes without saying that Time is Passing so ss are getting a teensy bit older. I kind of liked how this chapter flipped it so that sakura is the one always gone but even if he’s grumpy at first he’s like damn..she rlly did that LOL you like her don’t u ssk /.\

#sasusaku #fan fic #my writing #arranged marriage AU #um um tags? do not remember anything else

37 notes · View notes

gottawriteanegoortwo · 5 years ago

Text

Darkstache Week Day Seven: Ordinary People

Days: 1, 2 , 3, 4 , 5, 6, 7

At last, the final prompt of the wonderful event hosted by @projectdarkstache! Thank you so much for encouraging everyone to create such fantastic pieces and I hope all the works can be cherished by their creators! You’ve all done fantastic!

After years of causing chaos and trouble as the Actor, Mark uses his new freedom to bring the fictional world he ruled back to the modern real world. But what about Dark and Wilford?

Word Count: 2,437

(while not necessarily a warning, this does contain sympathetic!Actor becoming Youtuber!Mark in the timeline my stories are written in.)

If he was asked, Mark would admit he had no idea when he felt like ‘himself’ again. It had been decades since the troubled actor’s heart was shattered, the will to live had vanished, and the ability to die eluded him. His broken soul was utterly consumed by the terrors of the Manor’s arcanic past until he became a god-like figure in a world of his own creation. Former friends were moulded and reshaped into characters to suit his schemes. Poor, innocent souls over the decades were pulled into the cat-and-mouse plot to populate the worlds. Drama and chaos were on the regular schedule, and how the Actor thrived!

But now… Peace. And Mark was baffled by it.

He remembered standing at the edge of the city, watching the sun rise like he had never seen the day before. In all the years of darkness and being pulled like a puppet by unseen forces, maybe that was the truth. A new life, a new start. The ‘performances’ he had been part of were failed attempts to gain control over a world that had torn him to pieces and tossed him in the trash. All they achieved was pain and suffering. As he recognised this and wanted to do good, the world he had mastery over was fading and merging with the real world - the one he had left behind. With new independence, he was losing grip over whatever powers he had before. No more would he be able to cheat death or restart time. This was it, the final ‘act’. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. Mark was finally ready to break free from the puppet strings and start over… But there were two in particular he needed to apologise to. Trying to face Dark or Wilford now would result in mockery or gunfire (or both). However, from his spot on the hill, he could see a new opportunity. He could reverse the crimes that were cast. Let them and all their old friends live the lives they were meant to in this new, modern world.

Mark opened his arms wide as the light of the morning sun hit his weary body. At last, the game was up. He could set everything right.

“Ah, there’s the man of the hour, Damien himself!” A familiar voice sang as he entered the office with his usual dramatic flair.

“It’s ‘Mayor Brooks’ while you are here, Mark. But it is good to see you.” Damien countered, playfully rolling his eyes. Even if Mark was a big internet celebrity, he made it his mission to check in regularly on Damien. It was a nice relief, even if the pair were trying to regain grounds on their friendship. Mark had dated his twin sister in university, but the manner in which the pair broke up was so dramatic, it caused a rift between the two young men. At least a friendship from childhood was not one that could be broken forever. He saved the document he was typing and closed the laptop. “If you are here, can I assume there is some great problem going on in your world?”

“Oh, no no. All good on my end!” Mark slumped onto the sofa to the side of the office with a laugh. “I recorded one huge game over the weekend and scored myself some free time. What better way to spend it than with my favourite politician?”

“As much as I appreciate the compliment, I would gather that your other friends are busy and you don’t have anyone else to turn to.” However blunt the statement might be, there was a smile on Damien’s face as he fell back onto the free half of the couch. Mark responded with a loud gasp and a hand on his chest, which only prompted Damien to lightly push him.

“How dare you! I’ll have you know I came here to see if you wanted to grab a coffee with me. I found ten bucks in my pants pocket this morning and I wanna splash out. Come on, Dames! Doesn’t your favourite coffee place have the best pumpkin spiced latte on this side of the city?”

“Mark, it’s May. They aren’t going to make that for you.” Now it was Damien’s turn to be pushed as Mark waved the ten dollar bill in his face.

“I think you’ll find myself and mister Alexander Hamilton will disagree with tha- HEY!” Letting his guard down was a mistake, as Damien took the chance to snatch the money out of his hand and jump onto his feet. “You crooked politician! Stealing the money of an innocent, hard-working man like me!”

Damien fetched his coat with a chuckle. “For someone who wants coffee, you don’t seem very keen in moving for it.” It worked, and a childishly offended Mark pulled himself off the couch. The money was returned to Mark as the pair exited the office. Damien did need a break, he decided as he locked the door after him.

Mark was an interesting man. He could act loud and brash, but it was only a mask that hid a soul that seemed older than thirty. Damien used to joke that Mark might be an old man stuck in a young body. The walk to the coffee shop took the usual diversion through a nearby park so they could swap stories and chat without the rush of the world shoving them forward. Mark and his content creator friends were busy working on a variety of projects, and he himself admitted he was feeling happier in himself than he had been in recent years. Likewise, Damien had been working on completing some important jobs around the city and trying to get some new schemes underway. It was busy, but rewarding. In times like this, neither had to play the part cast for them by society. They could be themselves, just like old times. It meant that Damien was more relaxed and jovial by the time they reached their destination.

The coffee shop had the familiar busy hum to it as the pair entered. Since Damien was a regular, there was never any fanfare of the mayor visiting their business. Mark’s ‘perfect’ disguise of a worn baseball cap and his glasses seemed to do the job of keeping a low profile. Surprisingly, the barista did indeed agree to make a pumpkin spiced latte for Mark, as well as Damien’s regular order. Both drinks and two large muffins were covered by the ten dollar bill, much to Mark’s delight. For now, they simply had to wait for their drinks.

“- And still no sign of a special someone?” It was a question Mark frequently asked. Damien seemed content to be ‘married’ to his work, but Mark would argue that the companionship would make the heavy workload more bearable. They both knew it was true, but Damien was a stubborn man. He was too proud to deal with blind dates, and seemed insistent on waiting for ‘the right person’. Instead, Damien countered with a question about Amy and how she and the two dogs were doing. A simple diversion, but a wholesome one, as Mark could share silly moments and photos on his phone, and Damien could enjoy the tales. How could he not be happy for his friend? It seemed like things were finally looking up for him.

At that, Mark’s drink and the muffins were ready, but there was no sign of Damien’s drink. He insisted Mark go fetch a table while Damien continued waiting. Several long minutes passed as people who ordered similar drinks received theirs, and Damien was tempted to ask one of the staff about his drink. Just as he was about to, the door slammed open as a man stumbled in.

“Geez, man! Could you not break that door, please?” The manager shouted at the stranger, who hurried over and apologised profusely while ordering his ‘usual’ summer iced drink and telling a story about a kid outside throwing ice-cream at him. Damien pulled out his phone to try and look busy, but his eyes strayed from the screen and darted to the man.

The stranger was a head taller than Damien and had a broad build that was emphasised by the fitted white t-shirt and jogging pants he was wearing. His black, curly hair looked somewhat erratic, while the large, bushy moustache reminded Damien of the chief of police from a TV show he loved. Facial hair of that style wasn’t in season anymore - not to mention this wasn’t as eloquently groomed as other moustaches would have been - so it was likely something important to the man. His face was framed by a sturdy jawline, which gave a somewhat intimidating air. But his eyes… Were looking in Damien’s direction. Oops.

The Mayor gulped and returned his attention to his phone.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Damien jumped at the sudden voice and presence beside him. The stranger had stepped closer without him realising it. “Is something wrong? Did that kid get ice-cream on my shirt?”

“No, your shirt is fine.” Damien responded quickly, intending to leave it at that. But the stranger stayed firm, bringing a sigh out of the politician. “I’m sorry. I know it’s rude to stare. I thought I recognised you, that’s all.”

“And do you?” The stranger sounded genuinely curious. That was enough to prompt Damien to lock and pocket his phone.

“I’m not sure. I feel like I do, and I wouldn’t forget a moustache like that, but I can’t place anything… Even if it feels like it’s on the tip of my tongue.” Realising how odd that sounded, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’m sorry, this all sounds rather bizarre from a complete stranger -”

“No!” Both men were taken aback at the stranger’s interruption. “Er, no. Sorry. It doesn’t sound weird. I feel the same. I feel like I know you -”

“I’m the Mayor. That’s hardly a surprise.”

“- yeah, but like I know know you, you know?” The stranger shook his head, curls bouncing with a nervous chuckle. “I think this is a sign. Maybe we ought to get to know each other properly, just in case we met in a dream.” A large hand was offered to Damien. “The name’s William Barnum, but friends can call me -”

“The Colonel.” Damien finished. Confusion was mirrored on both faces.

“How did you -”

“I don’t know?” No matter how he tried to place a specific memory with the phrase, nothing came to mind. Instead, he pushed it aside. “My name is Damien Brooks. Despite the rather odd circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The large hand was taken, and they gave a firm shake.

Immediately, a memory crossed Damien’s mind. This man had pink in his hair. His own hands were gray. Mark had a shadowed, wicked grin on his face. But as soon as it came, it vanished, like trying to recall a fading dream.

“Hey, Damien?” William’s dark eyes had drifted aside as he tried to encourage the words to come to him. “Do you want to go out for lunch this week?” A simple question made Damien’s heart skip a beat as an all-too familiar sensation of butterflies in his stomach manifested.

“Are - are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah… Is that too forward? I feel like it’s the right thing to do. You’re very handsome.”

Strange. Why did Damien feel like William had complimented him like that a hundred times before? Stranger still, why did it make him feel so happy to hear the nervous rambling? He reluctantly pulled his hand away so he could snatch a napkin from the counter and the pen in his pocket. A phone number was hastily scribbled on it, before it was scratched out and written neater. Just in case, his name was noted underneath.

“Here. Text me later. If you’re free, we could always… Go for dinner?” It also felt like the right thing to do, like it was a regular event. William seemed to agree, as his face lit up. Upon receiving the napkin, it was treated like something sacred by William, who carefully folded and placed in his wallet.

“Yeah! That’d be - I’d really like that - Bully.” That exclamation of relief shouldn’t bring a familiar tugging of heartstrings to Damien, but it did. Only that he was with Mark (and that he has a job to return to), Damien would have gladly gone wherever William was going.

Both names were called as the drinks were finally ready. Each one was lifted, and the pair gave their parting words and a promise to arrange something as soon as William returned home. But just as Damien was about to turn and walk to the table, William leaned down enough to kiss him on the cheek, hurrying off before anything else could happen. All Damien could do was watch the larger man disappear with a wistful smile before turning to find Mark at the table.

“You’re putting the local tomatoes to shame. You okay?” Mark asked, innocently sipping his latte. It was still mostly full. The drink itself looked hot. How long had that moment actually lasted?

“I’ve got a date tonight.” Damien was so embarrassed after blurting his answer, he didn’t notice how Mark’s surprise was an act. “I started talking to a guy up at the counter and - well, we’re meeting for dinner.”

“I’m so happy for you, man. Look at you, getting out there and being ambitious! I’m sure he’ll be a great guy!” Mark grinned, letting the topic drop so the Mayor could get his head around the ‘unexpected’ event.

While they were talking after the drinks were finished, a text arrived on Damien’s phone. Mark noticed there was a number rather than a name, but it brought a smile to Damien’s face. The Youtuber waved his hand and insisted Damien needed to ‘urgently’ answer it. As the Mayor did so, Mark noticed how the shadow that was always looming over Damien finally dissipated. At last, the malicious claws from a lifetime ago were gone, and with that, Mark’s own powers.

But what did the loss of powers matter when he was able to use them to help Dark and Wilford start a new relationship together? They could live as normal, ordinary people, just like Dark had always vowed when confronting the Actor. Today: the Actor was dead, Mark was alive, and the curse holding them all down had been broken for good.

Now, if only Celine would talk to him so they could become friends again...

#projectdarkstache2020 #darkstacheweek2020 #writersofmark #dilliam #darkstache #who killed markiplier #actor!mark #mayor damien #william j barnum #Blue Soul (Damien)#Eccentric Goof (Colonel)#(I SWEAR I didn't mean for it to be this long but I SWEAR it's cute)

52 notes · View notes

mxillusion · 5 years ago

Text

Up where we belong

Aaaah, I’m still so happy about your request. Thank you sweet anon for sending it in. ♡ Must say, I’m kinda proud about how it turned out, but it really was challenging for me. lul I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. Much love.

#37 - “Hmm. So you do have feelings.”

#54 - “You should smile more, you look beautiful when you do.”

Genre/Warnings: royal!AU | arranged marriage!AU | none

Words count: 2200+

Summary: You’ve spent countless days imagining, dreaming and planning your perfect wedding, but now you realized this day will be much different. Who would’ve guesst you would have to marry a stranger one day? Well, maybe he’s not that unfamiliar, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Your highness”, the prince said, a sly smile spread across his face.

With a light smirk on your lips you turned around to greet the newly arrived guest properly. “It's bin a while.”

You weren't exactly happy to see him again, like not at all, but you knew you had to deal with it somehow. And the best way to do so was to pretend like you simply wouldn't care.

“Yes, it has. I believe I was only fourteen the last time I saw you.” He raised an eyebrow, looking at you. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think we didn't go along very well as children.”

Changkyun was right, it must have been ten years now, but for you it seemed like yesterday. And you remembered everything. That's one of many reasons you weren't pleased at all.

“That probably hasn't changed, I can tell you that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Just as sassy and smugly as I remembered you.”

“Did I see some sort of emotion on your face? I always thought your facial expressions are just as frozen as your cold heart”, you said, with a mischievous grin.

He never was very emotional, that's what you remembered the most. He never had any empathy, compassion or warmness at all. You only knew him as the emotionless, coldhearted boy, who seemed to be untouchable.

It's hardly surprising you two didn't like each other, as he was the complete opposite to you. People always said you were like an open book, your emotions always visible on your face. The bubbly, twirly little princess, who wore her heart on her sleeve.

Too bad your parents wanted you to marry him anyway.

“Ouch. You hurt my nonexistent, frozen feelings”, he said, his hand movement all over the place, as he placed his hand on his chest.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him again to look back at the night sky. For a moment you closed your eyes, cursing this very awkward situation you two were stuck in. Because there was no way out, you already tried that. Things were decided and pronounced already. God damn.

“I don't want this”, you whispered more to yourself but he heard you anyway. For a second you lost control over your emotions, which you wanted to hide from him so desperately. You didn't need him to make fun of you, because he probably hadn't realized how fucked up everything was. “I don't want to marry someone I barely even know!”

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders, being as emotionless as always. “It is, what it is.”

And with that, he left. Your heart felt as heavy as a rock and you almost started to cry. Almost.

***

The next days just flew by and soon there were only a few days left. One appointment followed another and slowly but surely you came to terms with your situation. What other choice did you have? Yet you still couldn't quite grasp the fact that arranged marriages obviously still were a thing in the 21. Century. And that something like this would ever happen to you.

Changkyun and you were trying to handle the situation as good as possible, but again it seemed as if this guy simply had no emotions whatsoever. He just did as he told, not giving a fuck about your feelings or any possible doubts.

At some point you decided you'd try to make the best out of it. Sure you didn't like him, sure he was a douchebag but at least he was quite cute, although you'd never say that out loud. Like ever.

You were standing in the front hall, arguing about the flower arrangement as Changkyun joined you.

“What the hell are you doing here? We have staff for that.” He seemed quite irritated while looked around, not really getting why put any effort into this nonsense of an event.

“If I am not allowed to choose my future husband, I'd like to choose the flowers at least. Not everything has to be a flop, you know?”

You just couldn't help yourself, but if you were with Changkyun you simply couldn't be nice. Maybe because he never was nice to you at all. You remembered how mean he was, making fun out of you and your personality. He wasn't the charming, handsome prince you've always dreamed of and you were perfectly happy as you didn't have to see him anymore. And even if you knew you'd have to get used to his presence somehow, it wasn't that easy at the moment. But you hoped it'd be different some day.

He sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief and went away without saying anything. You watched him leave, instantly being sorry for saying that. That's when you noticed something.

He never was that mean to you again, as he was back then. He never said something bad, but you did.

You told yourself to fix that later, since there was still a lot to be planned and prepared so you went back to work. But you haven't seen Changkyun all day.

Later on the evening you decided to look for him, since he wasn't even showing up at dinner. You knew you've gone too far earlier and you were just so sorry about that.

Finally you found him in the backyard, standing next to the fountain. He seemed to be in deep thoughts, that’s why you caughed slightly, to get his attention. He turned to you, giving you a worn-out smile.

“I've been looking for you”, you said, carefully coming a few steps closer.

He didn't answer.

“Look, Changkyun, I.. am sorry about.. what I sad earlier. I didn't mean -”

“No you're not”, he said, cutting your words off. “And I can't even blame you.”

“Don't say that.” You stood next to him, slowly reaching out for his arm, but he pulled away.

“Why not? You don't like me, I get it. I haven't been very nice to you. I was a child, I was naive and too young, but that's no excuse for what I did to you.”

Your heart was aching painfully as you got those flashbacks. Of course you remembered every single detail and that made it even worse.

You remembered how he and a friend of his made fun of you, because you liked that boy. Maybe you even had a crush on him, but Changkyun just ruined everything by being who he was. A douchebag. He told his friend about your crush and kept telling lies to simply hurt you. For some kind of reason he had a lot of fun to see you cry, at least that's what you thought. He made you cry countless times but you never told anyone. And you never asked why he did this, you just suffered through it, waiting for it to end.

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N.”

You looked up to him, having tears in your eyes. Being reminded of everything that happened in the past was painful, but maybe it was time to let go of the past. To clear things up and move on. Maybe now you've got the chance to finally get over it.

“It's just... You know my origin. It was never easy being me, because I had no chance to find out who I really am. I always had to follow rules and never ask questions because of that stupid, bounden duty.” He paused for a moment so you could let that sink in. “But when I got to visit you, no one watched me. No one cared about what I did here because everyone was too busy with the important things. I guess that's why I went crazy and did all these horrible things.”

A tear rolled down your cheek while you listened to him. You had no idea. But how could you? He never talked that much, especially about himself or his family. Now you knew why. And you heart ached even more.

“I'm so sorry Changkyun. If I'd only known.” Your hand reached out for his again and this time he let it happen.

“Me too. I feel so bad about what I did.”

“It's okay”, you said, your thumb softly stroking the back of his hand. “How about we start over? Forget about the past and try to look forward.”

And this was the first time you saw him smile. You gave yourself some time to cherish his beauty. “You should smile more. You look beautiful when you do.”

He blushed and turned his head away from you to hide it. He couldn't handle compliments, but he really appreciated what you said and once more he felt the butterflies in his belly rise. Maybe it wasn't a real marriage, but his feelings for you were.

Yes, he was insecure when he was a child and yes, his childhood was difficult, but that wasn't the only reason why he bugged you. You were his first crush and even if it wasn't love back then, it definitely was now. He fell for you the moment you saw each other again. He was stunned by your beauty, incapable of process what just happened to him.

***

Now the big day had come.

You stood in front of your dressing room, your heart was racing and your breath went uneven. Holy shit, you were so nervous! You tried to calm down, kept telling yourself everything would go well. But that's not was you're afraid of. The thought of getting married to Changkyun was the real problem.

Who would've guessed that you'd actually like him by now?

Things were different now, since you've spend the night together in the backyard watching the stars and talking about your future together. You laughed and enjoyed each others company since then and you got to know each other more and more.

Maybe this marriage wasn't such a bad idea anymore. Maybe.

“There you are!”

You flinched as you heard his voice and you both had to laugh. “Did I scare you?”

“You always do”, you said mockingly. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the other end of the castle right now?”

“Probably”, he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I wanted to see you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he said that and for a second you thought you'd imagine him saying that. But he actually did.

“I wanted to.. talk to you for a second.” His voice sounded unsure, but full of desire at the same time. He was nervous as hell you could tell that and once again you were surprised of how much of emotions he actually had to show, since you two talked about everything.

“Okay. What's up?”, you asked, trying to keep the easiness alive because you had no idea was was going on right now. He was so... different.

“Well... when everything's done they probably want us to.. you know.. kiss.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what he was insinuating and your body started to shake. Panic and a thrill of anticipation overrun you and paralyzed you out of nowhere.

“Y-yes?”

“I... I just don't want our first kiss to happen in front of thousands of people. You know? I want it to be.. special.”

You just nodded in agreement, unable to speak a single word.

Changkyun took a deep breath before he took the last steps towards you to stop right in front of you. His arms wrap around you hesitantly, to pull you close to him.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

Again you nodded and he leaned in, stopping a little right before his lips met yours. He was unsure if you really wanted this, but he wanted to give it a try anyway and as his lips met yours all insecurities were gone. He kissed you carefully, trying to not overwhelm you and himself.

He took his time to savor this, indeed, very special moment. You were simply blown away, only focused on the feeling of his lips on yours. Butterflies started to do somersaults in your belly and you just knew, you fell for him deeply.

You opened your eyes again as the kiss slowly came to an end and this time it was you who blushed. He smirked a little, totally overwhelmed by the fact that he just kissed you. And maybe he was a little proud of himself for gathering enough courage to do so.

“To be honest, I wanted to figure something out.”

“And what is that?”, you asked, anxious about what he might answer.

His smirk grew bigger. “I wanted to see if you might... like me.”

You blushed even more, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He chuckled, tightening his hug to pull you even closer. His hand stroke your back to help you calm down as he could feel how much your body was trembling.

“Hmm. So, you do have feelings.”

“Yes, I do, idiot. Now let's get married!”

#monsta x #mx #changkyun #i.m #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #changkyun scenario #i.m scenario #changkyun imagine #i.m imagine #scenario #royal!AU #arranged marriage!AU #kpop scenario #kpop imagine

105 notes · View notes

thursdaygarbageday · 2 months ago

Text

### A Love Across TimeIn the heart of Seattle, where the skyline kissed the clouds and the smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air, I had spent years navigating life alongside my best friend, Alex. From awkward childhood moments to fierce teenage rebellions, we shared countless memories, each thread woven tighter into the fabric of our friendship. We’d confided our dreams, fears, and the occasional cringe-worthy dating story, all while knowing that we had something special—a spark that had flickered between us for as long as I could remember.

It was a crisp autumn afternoon, leaves swirling like confetti, that fate decided to intervene. We were sitting at our favorite coffee shop, *Café Amour*, a quaint spot adorned with mismatched furniture and local art. The barista, a quirky woman named Mia, was busy brewing a pumpkin spice latte when Alex leaned back in his chair, staring out the window with a contemplative look.

“You know,” he began, his voice casual yet laced with something deeper, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh,” I joked, raising an eyebrow. “Thinking is dangerous for you.”

“Hey! I can think!” he shot back dramatically. “Sometimes I even think about us!”

My heart skipped. “Us? What about us?” My curiosity piqued, I leaned in closer.

He took a deep breath, clearly working up to something monumental. “What if we stopped dancing around this... whatever it is between us? I mean, maybe we should see what happens if we really tried?”

The gravity of his words hung in the air, punctuated by the sound of a cup clanking on the counter. “Like, ‘let’s go on a date’ trying, or are we talking about some Shakespearean tragedy level of commitment here?” I teased, trying to lighten the moment while my heart raced.

“Let’s start with dinner,” he replied, a grin creeping onto his face. “And we can save the tragedy for later. You know how much I love a good dramatic monologue.”

I laughed, my nerves easing. “Alright, Mr. Shakespeare, if we end up in a tragic mess, I’m definitely blaming you.”

We settled on a date for the following weekend, a plan neither of us dared to overthink. As the week passed, our conversations grew layered with excitement and a hint of nervous energy. I could hardly focus on work, my mind preoccupied with envisioning how our first official date would unfold—would it be magical or awkward?

Finally, Saturday arrived. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my outfit and wondering if I should take a page from our ongoing inside joke about wardrobe malfunctions. “Remember,” I whispered to myself, channeling my inner Michael Christian. “No one ever looked good tripping over their own feet.”

We decided to meet at the iconic *Space Needle*, a symbol of Seattle’s vibrant spirit. I arrived early, watching the sunset bleed orange and pink across the sky, thinking of how beautiful this moment felt. When I saw him striding toward me, hands in his pockets, I couldn’t shake the thrill coursing through my veins.

“Wow, you clean up nice,” I teased playfully. “No coffee stains today?”

“Only the finest espresso for our first date,” he replied, striking a mock pose. “If this goes well, I’ll invest in a bib.”

“Very classy,” I smirked, and before I knew it, I was stepping closer to him, heart pounding.

As we ascended the Space Needle, the city unfolded beneath us like a tapestry. The lights twinkled in the distance, and I felt a warm glow enveloping us. “You know,” Alex began, gazing out at the horizon, “they say love is like the view from up here—sometimes it’s breathtaking, and other times, you just need to squint to see it clearly.”

I chuckled. “Your metaphors are getting better. Is this how you woo girls?”

He turned to me, a serious expression etched across his face. “No, really,” he said softly, “I’ve admired you for so long. I don’t want to just be friends anymore. I want to be someone who cherishes you the way you deserve.”

My breath hitched in my throat. “So, you want to be my partner in crime?”

“Absolutely. But we might have to stop breaking windows during our adventures.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between us dissipating as joy took its place. “Alright, then. Let’s promise to always have each other’s backs when we’re out there conquering the world—or at least attempting to not trip over our own feet.”

With the shimmering Seattle skyline as our backdrop, we shared our first kiss—a sweet mix of anticipation and laughter. As we pulled away, I couldn’t help

0 notes

reballet · 5 years ago

Text

»let me come« Home To You

Pairing: NaruSaku

Warnings: Fluff with a tiny bit of Angst

Summary: She used to believe in love at first sight, until time proved her wrong. Now, she’s watching the man who’d won her heart, fulfilling his promise.

YEARS had passed and, in the end, it was time that brought them together.

“Look at that hair,”

“It’s ugly, come on, what are you; a witch or something?”

They all laughed at her. She was small, weak and all on her own. Tears burned down their way on her cheeks while the girl behind her grabbed her hair tightly and it hurt so bad, but screaming would only please them further.

“How can someone with pink hair be called ‘normal’,” they huffed with their heads held high.

“You wanna be normal, pinkie? You wanna be like us?” They asked.

She heard the girl behind her pull out a kunai and fear tightened her chest. Sakura could feel her heart beating in her throat and it was hard not to throw up in this moment.

“We should do something about that hair of yours then,” they threatened.

“Don’t worry, once we’re done, you shall be one of us, I promise.”

Sakura’s vision blurred due to the thousand tears that fled from the corner of her emerald green eyes. She heard them laugh, louder, stronger - it was madness.

The girl that used to be so weak and helpless, closed her eyes and waited silently, patiently for the end to come. She wouldn’t fight, she couldn’t. They were too many and she was alone, small, weak, useless...

“Hey, You! What are you doing to her?!” The young boy barked loudly, running towards the group of girls with anger glaring in his bright blue eyes. He came to a halt in front of a pink haired girl - their parents had told them to keep him at distance. Usually it hurt him deeply, though not now, when they were bullying this small girl over something so obviously silly.

“Let’s go,” the leader of their group mumbled and, eventually they followed her, though not without paying him their vicious glares.

He bowed down just enough to let his hands rest on his knees and smiled brightly at the crying figure in front of him.

“It’s okay now, they’re gone!” His words didn’t seem to calm her down, though, and he had to wonder what to do with her.

“Uhm, I’m Naruto Uzumaki, believe it,” he grinned, and still, the girl wouldn’t bother to meet his gaze. Naruto fell silent for a few seconds, thinking of what to do, since he had no experience at all once it came to sympathy.

Her cries bothered him, the sound of her cracking voice hurt him and seeing her so lonely, he began to understand.

“Your hair,” he then whispered, but those two words caught her attention, green eyes glancing at him, as though he was about to hurt her,

“They’re pretty,” Naruto grinned, “Believe it!”

Everyone’s here, she recognizes with a small smile, her eyes shining a light green, reminding those around her of apples, emeralds and green tea. When he eventually stands on top of the Hokage Tower, her hands run, absentmindedly, over her belly. Soon, they’d become whole, a small family, but filled with pure love.

Her cheeks shimmered in a gentle pink, as his words still echoed through her mind.

“Na-Naruto, eh?” She stuttered, surprised by his sudden presence. His bright blue eyes matched the sky and slowly, a feeling of safety rose within her. She’d seen him before, though from a distance only.

Sakura had had no idea why everyone chose to ignore him, when he was obviously so nice, and open-hearted, the entire opposite of her - an anxious, shy and weak human being. She knew this boy, Naruto, was lonely, lonelier than her, but she already started to, maybe, like him. She couldn’t tell what that feeling inside her meant, but she liked it, and it was the first time she’d ever felt it. So, if he made her feel this way - feeling safe, protected, and at peace, then they’d maybe become friends, right?

His voice pulled her out of her train of thoughts, though, and she met his gaze once more as he spoke, “Yeah, and one day, I’m gonna be Hokage, believe it!”

Her eyes closed with a smile on her lips.

“Hmm, I hope you will.”

The war was won, Madara was defeated, Team 7 was back together. As she looked through the group of people, trying to find him, she soon recognized he wouldn’t make it in time.

Sasuke.

After the war had been won, and Naruto and Sasuke fought their last battle, the Uchiha had finally returned to Konoha. At that time, she‘d still loved him deeply, she‘d thought, but after he left for his journey to see the world from another angle, she was back left alone. Durning all those years, Sakura had assumed that, once Sasuke was back, she would be whole, happy and at peace but surprisingly, when Sasuke had come back after several years, she’d found herself empty, still longing for love to fill the hole within her heart.

Although an era of peace was found and saved, the war inside her had kept on destroying her mind and heart. She had a family of course, other than her teammates and she loved her parents, of course, but somehow her heart longed for more - a true family she would be able to protect. She hadn’t been the weak child she once was, the child that would run to her parents, crying desperately and looking for comfort in her mother‘s arms.

She’d become an adult and fighting battles to safe those precious to her, made her realize, one day, that she was now the one to take care of her parents, in a way, and not the other way around anymore. The day she realized that truth had been the day she found herself being lonely.

Eventually, while Sasuke was on his journey, she’d come to spend time with her childhood friend - luckily, apart from missions, and it did her good. So, as time passed, she memorized all those years she’d spent by his side, how they‘d supported each other, no matter how hard times were, and suddenly her heart had started beating faster whenever she’d met him.

It was then, whenever she’d spent time with him in her free time, apart from working at the hospital, that she learned about real love.

Looking back at her old self, she had realized that her love for Sasuke had been nothing more than a crush she’d held on to for far too long, torturing herself by doing so.

But with Naruto, she’d never found herself sad or lonely. He made her laugh at any given chance, he cherished her in so many ways - with him it would never become boring. Naruto was a caring person, that showed his feelings openly instead of relying on a mask to hide his emotions, just like herself. Sometimes that was what brought her over the edge, but there was hardly a perfect couple out there, right?

The cheering crowd releases her out of her paralyzing thoughts, and Sakura looks up at the top of the Hokage Tower, up to where she finds the love of her life, with the new cloak of the Seventh Hokage decorating his back. Despite the great amount of people that had gathered around the Tower, she knew that he was looking only at her - he would find her anywhere, even with thousands of people surrounding her.

His eyes shined along with the sun and his smile was as happy and proud as ever.

Seeing him at this point of their lives, she couldn’t be more proud. From the first day they‘d met, he promised her to become the Hokage, and today was the day he fulfilled his promise and Sakura was nothing but sparkling with utter joy and happiness.

“Congratulations,” she greats him with a warm smile that made his blood boil with primal love.

He opened her arms once he reached the threshold to their living room, and welcomed her with a warm embrace. “How was your first day at the Office?”

Before answering her question, Naruto made sure to greet his wife properly by closing the last distance between their lips with a hungry kiss.

“Lot of stress, actually,” he mumbled between their kiss, “but nothing can keep me from meeting my two girls,” he smiled, reaching out his hand to let it rest on her growing belly.

“How do you know it’s a girl, Darling?” Sakura laughed, “Anyway, as long as the kid has your hair color I don’t care about the gender, though.”

Remembering her past, it hurt him to hear those words from his wife, his long - life love, and he looked up, staring right into her beautiful apple green eyes.

“I’d be happy if it had pink hair, though,” he said dead serious, “It’s beautiful and I wouldn’t love them any less just because the color of their hair.” A smile touches his lips, another promise made that he would held.

Sakura saw the smile on his lips, the sparkles in his eyes and she fell in love once again with the man in front of her, her husband, her Hokage, her Naruto. With closed eyes and a smile that joined his own, she whispered, “I love you, so so much, Naruto.”

#naruto #uchiha #naruto shippuden #naruto uzumaki #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #narusaku #fanfiction #my fanfiction #naruto x sakura

64 notes · View notes

peachbibi · 5 years ago

Text

Mr Perfect // slow burn

Part II

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve Harrington was the coolest guy at school and now he’s working with you at the rental store. Very complicated story about complicated feelings.

Warning: Language

A/N: That chapter is about what happened in the past. The reason why don’t you like Steve so much. It’s longer than the previous one and with Steve from s1.

“It was Lorie...she was my best friend” You were lying on your bed at 11pm talking with Robin on the phone. It was a warm summer night and the window in your room was open.

“Wait. Lorie? Lorie the slut?” Lorie and her face blew up in your mind. “Sorry! ...I didn’t mean to” Of course she didn’t. But it was the first thought in people’s mind when they heard her name.

“You know she was different before they’d started dating” And the wave of memories hit you. All those moments got alive in your head and you just let them take over your mind.

It was three years ago and you were both inexperienced and naive… well, Lorie was. You remember that day when she ran into you in the morning with a big smile on her face, holding a small piece of paper. She leaned on the wall next to you showing it so you can see what was written there. ‘Party at 10 pm. I`ll be waiting for you. Steve H’

“So? What do you think?” That smile actually was a bit annoying and they way she looked at you like it was Christmas. She did shine.

“What do I think?” You kept looking for your books in the school locker. You didn`t want to go to the party cause it wasn`t really your thing.

“STEVE HARRINGTON asked me to come to his party, you silly girl! I think she likes me. He`s been smiling at me for the whole week during our English classes” Her dreaming face were more annoying.

“I don`t think that’s a good idea” You closed your locker and headed to your classroom.

“Why? THE KING STEVE asked me out. Can you even hear me?”

“I don`t think he is a good guy, Lorie. Honestly, why do they call him The King?” You stopped and looked into her eye, praying for some common sense.

“Please~ We`ve been best friend since the middle school. I`ve never let you down and it is just for one night, Y/N. Do me a favor, pleeeeease?” She grabbed your hand and squeezed it with puppy eyes.

“Just for one night” It wasn`t just for one night. That party cost you two weeks and your friendship.

“Fine” You sighed. “Just for tonight I`ll be a good friend” She hugged you and kissed your cheek. You couldn`t stand Lorie but sometimes she was adorable. She was a good friend who protected and cherished you. But she also was very selfish.

That night you first time saw Steve Harrington so close. The house was full with people and alcohol and Lorie looked stunning. She always knew how to look desired. You were standing in the living room near the table with punch. Lorie had already drunk two cups cause she was freaking nervous. Steve came to her and kissed her hand. And you suddenly got it, he was cool. In his black jacket and dark glasses with his perfect hair, he was cool and not just cool. He was the coolest guy at school that’s why they called him The King. He said something sweet to Lorie and she blushed. He didn`t see you. You was invisible for him, not as shiny as Lorie was. Steve pulled her into the dancing crowd and she apologetically smiled to you. Of course, she left you. That’s why she came here. For a half an hour you were eating snacks and drinking punch and waiting for your friend. You asked some guy where the bathroom is but he offered to show you Paradise instead. Jesus. You just wanted to pee. You were walking past the stairs and you saw Laurie with Steve coming up.

“Lorie!” She turned around. She was a little bit drunk so was Steve. There was annoyance in her face when she saw you.

“What?”

“We need to talk. NOW” She rolled her eyes and whispered something to Steve who went upstairs. “What are you doing, Lorie?”

“I`m having fun, Y/N” You took her hand and got close to her. “Lorie, you don`t want to do it. Not drunk in his parents room”

“You don`t know a shit. Just leave me here. Go home. Don`t ruin my night” She pulled you away. Her lips were red because of kissing and her hair was a mess. “C`mon. Go, Y/N. You are too boring for this party”

“I`m here because of you, remember?” You were trying to stay calm but it was impossible.

“Well, I don`t need you now” You looked in her cold eyes one more time and left.

They’d been dating for a whole week. The week full of night calls and tears and sex. Everybody at school knew Lorie was “spending time” with Steve Harrington but not like his girlfriend. More like a friend with benefits but not a friend...

On Monday you found Lorie crying in a bathroom at school. Apparently, Lorie though their relationship were special but Steve didn`t. He alway asked her to leave his house next morning after they did it cause his parents shouldn’t know about her. When he stopped answering her calls she decided to visit him. He was hanging out with Tommy H. and Carol near the pool. He asked her to leave but Lorie refused and he said he don`t want to see her anymore. She was broken. You pulled her up from the bathroom floor, washed her face and told her she should tell him everything she thinks about him. So, after classes she caught him up near the school with his friends and stopped him. You tried to tell her that was a bad idea and they need more private place but she was adamant.

“Steve, we need to talk!” Lorie`s throat was dry because of tears and she could hardly speak.

“We have nothing to talk about, Lorie. I told you we can`t be together. It’s over” He was leaning on the hood of the car, not even noticing you near Lorie.

“ Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong?” She was almost crying.

“He left you because you are slut” said Tommy H. and looked at her with a wry smile. Carol giggled and Steve just closed his eyes in annoyance. You were numb. You just couldn`t move. You saw her standing there in front of him with a shocked face.

“What!?”

“Aw, don`t play an innocent girl here. You were the one who almost ate his face on the party. And then you grabbed his hand and asked him to show you his bed room” said Carol looking at Lorie with shame and disgust. “Ah, Steve, you are the king! More, Steve, more! And then you came every time he asked you to do it”

“You did what?” You were shocked and you let this question slip.

“You told them!” Lorie screamed and threw his bag at him. Tears started covering her face and you saw fire in her eyes. And it woke up her pride. She wiped her face with a sleeve and looked into his eyes. “You know what, fuck you, Harrington”

“You already did” He finally spoke. “And it wasn`t that pleasant. You need to improve your technique”

She showed him her middle finger and left. You grabbed her bag from the ground and followed her. You almost reached her as Lorie turned round with an angry face.

“Lorie… why did you do that?” You spoke quietly.

“Because I wanted to” She stepped closer to you looking in the eyes. “ And stop giving me that look”

“What look?”

“Like I did something wrong”

“But you-“

“No. Stop it! You are always right, yeah? You always right! Don`t you dare judge me, Y/S/N” She pointed her index finger at you.

“ You were the one who told me Jane Bree is a whore because she slept with Rick after their third date! You even wrote it on her desk! You slept with Steve before any date. And then you did it every time he asked you. Like you are his toy. And know he threw you away” You knew it was the end. You knew she did bad things and she just used you but you were catching on your memories. You just couldn’t remember when everything started getting worse and worse. When did she become jealous and selfish and needy? She slapped you. Hard.

“Don`t. You. Dare. Judge. Me.” She cried again. You threw her bag on the ground and walked past her. You cried too. You felt like you were her toy.

On Tuesday everybody knew she slept with Tommy H. to get back at Steve. It was also the biggest quarrel between Tommy and Carol but after that their relationship had become unbreakable. Then she hung out with Steve`s childhood friend Kyle. And then she became Lorie the slut.

“That’s why I don’t wanna have anything on common with Steve Harrington” It was 1am by the time you’d finished your story.

“Holy shit” That was the only thing Robin told you that night but it was enough. She listened to you without interrupting and with interest. It was enough. You felt relief.

Thanks everybody for support :3

@sergeantjbbarnes-archive-blog

@somethingdawn

@christinawxxx

@hearteyesmotherclucker

@avadakedavrabitxh

@choconat-chip

@softtfinn

@tootimetootime7

@sydzygy

@the-pixie-with-seven-faces

#steve #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #imagine steve harrington #imagine #imagine steve #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #imagine stranger things #stranger thing imagine #slow burn #slowburn #like very slow burn

169 notes · View notes

insipid-drivel · 5 years ago

Text

I’ve decided it’s time to break my silence.

My father was psychologically and emotionally abusive for as long as I can remember.

His moods were impossible to predict. He would fly from being perfectly amiable and funny to suddenly becoming a snarling bear of a man that would threaten my life for thinking I had spoken out of turn.

After my parents divorced, I was given the choice to decide who to live with as part of the custody agreement. I was only 9, had lots of friends, and loved my teachers. My house was a down-home little cabin set so far back in the woods that you couldn’t see it from the road. I lived in a rural area of Washington State full of verdant forests and beautiful paddocks full of horses and cows.

I liked my home. I didn’t want to leave it, and being a naive 9-year-old little girl, I thought that was enough justification to decide to stay living with my dad in our house in the woods.

It wasn’t long after the divorce that my father’s mercurial moods went from startling and confusing to terrifying. The deep-seated anger he had tried to hide from his family no longer had my mother as an excuse for him to keep it bottled up. And, as is the case with abusers in heterosexual relationships, when my mother left, I was the next viable female for him to unleash his rage on.

He never hit me, but he didn’t need to. He arranged for me to suffer through outside means in the name of plausible deniability. I lived in perpetual fear of him as soon as my mom had gone to live in an apartment in town. I never knew who was coming home at the end of the day. I never knew how bad each day was going to be; the things he’d find wrong the punish me for. Even if there was no tangible reason for his rage to manifest, he would manufacture one. In time, I ultimately took to hiding in the woods to avoid him until the sun went down. I was more afraid of him than I was of bears or mountain lions.

In the mornings, I usually had to wake up between 4 and 5 AM. My brother and I would then be forced to eat adult-sized bowls of malt-o-meal with little to no flavoring, and drink an entire adult-sized glass of plain, unsweetened cranberry juice. If we refused or tried to ask for something else, we would be punished, even though we had breakfast cereal in the cupboards.

I would then be sent to school not with the lovingly-packed lunches my mom would send me with. Instead, he would give me a SlimFast bar, which was nothing more than a nutrition bar for adults trying to diet. If I was still hungry, I would have to beg my friends for their leftovers at lunch, and if I told my dad about how Renee or Rachel split their pizza with me, I would get the riot act screamed at me for being ungrateful and unappreciative of the food he’d given me.

Then, when I started puberty between ages 10 and 11, he decided that the slight pudginess natural to a tween child was unsightly on me, and began forcing me to run for at least 30 minutes a night on his treadmill because I was “Getting fat from playing too many video games.”

I hadn’t even started wearing a training bra yet.

He had his twisted ways of buying himself permission to abuse me by presenting me with gifts. He bought an above-ground pool one year, but the day he decided he needed me to help him assemble it, I was sick with the flu and a high fever. It was summer and hot outside, but he forced me to stay out there for hours despite how the world was spinning around my head as the heat and fever forced me to lean on the pool’s siding so I wouldn’t collapse.

He installed a zip-line one year for my brother and I to play on, and again forced me to help him install it despite how, at the time, we had a problem with a huge infestation of red-headed ants that were extremely aggressive and bit anything that moved. I could barely clutch the handles of the zipline when it was installed because of the ant bites on my fingers from crawling into a tree riddled with those ants. I complained of being bitten, but he warned me to stay put, because he was trying to get the line level and if I were to move, it would throw off his measurements. I was more afraid of his anger at me botching his work than I was of having dozens of ants latching their sharp little mandibles into my bare skin.

His behavior only escalated as I got older. By the time I had just entered high school, he began warning me that if I were to try to date any boys, he would kill them. It wasn’t long after that that his death threats became directed at me. (Although the joke is ultimately on him; I turned out to be an asexual lesbian)

When I had finally had enough of his treatment of me, he still refused to quit. I told my mom that I was afraid of him and afraid for my life and needed to come live with her, and so she came and got me as soon as she was able. I still don’t understand why Child Protective Services were never called in, but they weren’t.

I was only allowed to pack my clothes and school supplies. He refused to allow me to take my consoles, games, or even my precious collection of delicate crystal figurines I’d been amassing since I was a toddler. If I wanted to see them again, I had to keep coming back.

I never saw most of my most beloved belongings again. What he didn’t pack away to hide from me, he lost or destroyed.

This is a bare-bones summary of the things he did to me and put me through throughout my young life living under the same roof with him. Nevermind the fact that he barely made the effort to take care of my little brother, who was hardly older than a toddler, but refused to live anywhere without me (He still sometimes slips up and calls me “Mom”). It became my job to make sure he was taken care of. It was my job to see him bathed. It was my job to see him fed. By the time I’d squirreled away a lunch for him for school in the morning, I didn’t have time to sneak extra food of my own, and so was continued to subsist off of a single diet bar and whatever I could beg off my classmates.

In the end, no one ever came to help me. I was forced to help myself by ultimately leaving, and I was too afraid of him to tell my mom the truth about the extent of what he would do to me until I was in my 20′s. I should’ve been put into therapy and gotten help after surviving what he did, but one of his final blows to me was that he threatened to retain custody of me and keep me from moving away unless I was cleared by a psychologist first. By then, I had savvied up enough to his abuse that, when I did get shoved into a juvenile psychologist’s office, I lied through my teeth about my mental health so the woman would tell my father that I was fine enough. His reasoning was that he suspected my mother was brainwashing me against him. I don’t believe he ever realized that he didn’t need any help in fostering both my fear and hatred. It took me until I was in my mid-20′s before I finally felt brave enough to seek out a psychiatrist and start therapy for my own sake, and not because I was being blackmailed.

I’ve gotten tired of my child-self being forced to carry the weight of a grown man’s secrets. Tonight, I decided enough was enough. I’ve tried to talk to him about the way he treated me before, but he stridently refuses to believe any of what I told him he did, and insists that either my mother made up stories and tricked me into believing them, or that I simply invented them myself.

So I wrote an email to my aunt; his older sister, and I’m going to tell her everything.

I won’t allow the truth of the man he was to only be known at his eulogy. He took away my childhood, my self-respect, my self-worth, and the person I should’ve become. Now, I plan to destroy the image of himself he cherishes so well before his family. He won’t have my silence to hide behind anymore.

#tw: abuse #tw: eating disorder

5 notes · View notes

jentrevellan · 5 years ago

Text

Believe Again: Chapter 1

Rating: Mature Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Relationships: Cullen Rutherford x Female Trevelyan Tags: slow burn, slow build, slow romance, mage/templar dynamics, family drama, templars, mages, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, lyrium withdrawal, crisis of faith, loss of faith, The Chantry, sexual tension, innuendo MASTERPOST

A/N: Tags to be updated. Chapters posted on the 1st Thursday of the month.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

CHAPTER ONE - Elsie

The day the Ostwick Circle fell was one that firmed up the mage rebellion. Known throughout Thedas as one of the more ‘sedate’ circles, Ostwick was known for generally good relations between mages and templars. Perhaps because the circle was rather inbred with many noble families having sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, cousins and the like as both mages and templars within the walls. My time there was much the same - my sister was a templar along with an uncle on my mother’s side and I believe I had a few distant cousins scattered around too. I, like my fellow mages, was studious, well-behaved and cherished the circle as a place of learning and wisdom, and a refuge from my life before my magic quickened. It was not a place of confinement or punishment in my experience, and dare I say it, many who resided in the Ostwick Circle probably felt the same. Although we had little choice, I would say that most of us did want to be there and have fond memories of our lives behind its walls - until the circle fell, of course.

- Extract from ‘Torn Asunder’, the memoirs of Inquisitor Elsie Trevelyan

1. Elsie

When she woke up, she didn’t know where she was. Her eyes opened slowly and she reached out in the dark. Her fingers found silk sheets and warm blankets and she gazed up at a canopy above her; the Trevelyan family crest delicately weaved with gold thread in intricate patterns around stitched ivy and foliage.

Elsie Trevelyan sat up in the large four-poster bed and realised that she was in her old room, from when she used to live in this house. It hadn’t changed much since she had left almost fifteen years ago - her doll’s house sat in the corner; one of the books she must’ve been reading still lay open on a chaise by one of the large windows overlooking the formal gardens. To the unassuming eye, one might’ve thought that someone had died, the way nothing had been touched. But Elsie bitterly thought that leaving it thus had probably made things easier for her parents to pretend that their eldest daughter and heir had died, to escape the truth that she had been sent to the Circle. A soft knock on the chamber door pulled her out of her thoughts. She sat up in bed and croaked out an ‘enter’, her voice still husky from sleep.

The woman who walked in was taller than Elsie by a head and carried herself with elegance and grace, despite her height. Dark hair fell in tight ringlets down her back and her scarlet dress flowed around her as she strode over to Elsie’s windows and pulled the curtains back.

Elsie blinked rapidly at the sudden light but the woman ignored her discomfort and came to stand on the other side of the bed. “You can’t stay in here all day, you know,” she said in her clipped voice; her perfectly shaped eyebrows raised. “It’s almost noon.” Elsie shook her head. “You know me Etta - I’ve never been a morning person.” Her sister, Lucetta crossed her arms and despite her perfect appearance and her feigned annoyance she couldn’t help but smile, and Elsie offered the same in return She sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing her skirts out. “I didn’t even know you were coming,” she said, reaching to take Elsie’s hand. They had been close sisters once, with all but a year between them in age, and Lucetta’s sudden familiarity surprised Elsie, but she did not pull her hand away. “I arrived in the early hours, before dawn,'' she replied, offering her sister a sympathetic smile. “It’s become a habit, moving under the cover of darkness as a fugitive.” Her face darkened. “Even though you’ve done nothing wrong,” she said. Elsie shrugged. “According to the Chantry, all mages are now apostates. I do what I must to survive.”

Lucetta’s shoulders sagged. “I know that. Look, Evie will be arriving this afternoon... will things be alright?” she asked tentatively. Ah yes, Evie, their younger sister. Elsie nodded slowly. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I swear.” Lucetta squeezed Elsie’s hand. “Thank you. You know it means so much to us all if you two get along.” “We always used to, before I went to the Circle,” Elsie reminded her. “The four of us were all so close.” “I remember,” she said softly, getting up to stand by the window. “It seems only last week that I was sobbing in mother’s arms when you were taken away. And it feels like yesterday when Evie left to join the Templars.” There was a pause before Elsie said softly, “You know it wasn’t my choice to leave.” Lucetta nodded, her ringlets bouncing. “I know. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if you hadn’t been sent to the Circle, and stayed as heir apparent?” Elsie looked away. As the eldest of all of Bann Trevelyan’s children, she was always set to inherit. Indeed, all of her childhood had drilled that undisputed fact into her head. No expense was spared - she learnt to fight with training swords, speak eloquently and had even sat in on meetings their father had with visiting nobility, so she could learn Ostwick politics. It wasn’t fun in the slightest, but Elsie honestly thought at the time that it was where the Maker wanted her. So she was studious and complied. And was rather good at it. But then her magic had quickened, on the same day as her first moon’s blood. Elsie remembered running to the training yard, battling a straw dummy with her blunt sword, when she accidentally set the dummy on fire. By the end of the next day, she was in the Circle. “The Maker works in strange ways,” Elsie said eventually, looking back at her tall sister. Upon Elsie’s leaving, Lucetta had assumed the role as heir, and taken to the position in a better way than any of them ever could have imagined. She looked more like their father with her long face so there was no doubt who her predecessor was.

Lucetta smiled. “Indeed He does.” She turned to leave, pausing at the door. “Come now; lunch will be served shortly and Cecelia is dying to see you.” Elsie grinned at the prospect of seeing their youngest sister, who she absolutely doted upon, as did all of them. As Lucetta left, Elsie stretched luxuriously: she couldn’t remember the last time she woke up in a feather bed - not since before the war broke out, anyway. And the ones in the Circle were nowhere near as comfortable. Reluctantly she pulled herself out of bed. Her bare feet relished the softness of the thick Antivan rugs as she headed over to the privy, warming the pitcher of water with a touch of her hand, barely using a wisp of magic. She splashed it over her face and neck before dabbing her skin dry with a soft cloth that smelt faintly of lavender. Before the looking glass, a woman peered back at her who she hardly recognised - it had been many months since she had seen her appearance, with personal vanities a luxury of the past. Misty grey eyes stare back; ones that look older than their twenty seven years. Her tanned skin and chestnut hair had seen better days - her cheeks which were once full and rosy were now gaunt and her long hair was flat and lifeless, when it used to be soft and voluptuous. On her right cheek, she traced the burn scar with a finger, but it was numb under her touch. An ugly thing, to be sure, but she was grateful her injury from the war was nothing worse. When she stepped back into my chamber, the bed had been made and a fire recently lit. On the bed was a dark green dress, cut in the Ostwick style with a low curved neckline and long light skirts. She hesitated before running the material lightly through her fingers, the fabric so light it slid like water. A dress for a lady to wear, not an apostate, disowned by her family. Elsie turned away and spotted her pack in the corner of the room. Within moments she had found her old robes from the Circle - the faded red and gold of an Enchanter’s robe. It had seen better days and was rough around the edges, but after fifteen years of being informed that she was not Lady Trevelyan anymore, why should that change? Indeed, before the Circles fell, she had begun to carve her life out at the Circle as a teacher. Perhaps she could’ve become the First Enchanter... Elsie shook her head; there was little point thinking on what could have been. Everything changed in Kirkwall, and despite being the neighbouring Circle, it took a long time for the chaos to reach them. So she pushed aside all remorse, smoothed down her robes and pulled her long hair back into a simple ponytail. The corridors and hallways of the house were a maze, and she could only just about remember how to find the drawing room. Her route took her through the entrance hall, where on the landing by the large sweeping staircase, sat a gigantic painting. She paused and looked up, to see her family looking back at her, including a younger, prepubescent Elsie. She stood next to her father, his hand resting on their mother’s shoulder who sat on a stool, her long skirts smoothed neatly. At her feet sat her youngest sister Cecelia, who at the time of this painting was around three years old. This had been painted just weeks before Elsie’s magic had revealed itself. As far as she was aware when she stood for this painting, in her sweet periwinkle blue dress and her dirty boots, she was her parent’s heir and most prized child. Standing on the other side of her in the painting was her younger sister Evie, whose cropped hair and breeches made her look more like a boy than the daughter of a noble. Her eyes shifted to Lucetta who stood looking the most regal of all the Trevelyan sisters, in her dark emerald gown, looking as noble as their mother, but with the features of father.

“The happy family,” a deep voice behind Elsie said dryly. She glanced over her shoulder and then whipped her head around in disbelief.

“Henry?!”

A tall man with dark wavy hair brushing his shoulders stood looking up at the portrait with a grin on his face. Elsie threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her up, hugging her like he used to when they were children.

Finally he set her down chuckling and she stared at him, feeling a massive smile on her face - the first genuine one in a long time.

“What in the world are you doing here? I thought you were in Antiva?”

He shrugged his shoulders - an action that was just so characteristically Henry. “Hey, I may not be a favoured family member, but I’m still a member of this family, I think. Bann Trevelyan wanted everyone here.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here,” she grinned, elbowing him, but he was looking up at the painting again. After a moment she said “I still can’t believe you weren’t included in this portrait.”

“Lady Trevelyan would rather pretend I don’t exist, and, for most of the time, I’m content with that.” He shrugged again, brushing it off. “I’m pretty sure these official portraits are meant to show the family at their best, not their worst.”

“You’re not the worst by any means,” she shook her head. “Besides, if there was to be another portrait done today, I wouldn’t be included.”

“The mage and the bastard - what a scandal,” Henry took her hand and looped it into the crook of his elbow, and they walked slowly down the hall together. “Anyway, what’s it like being lawless, living on the run? Not knowing where your next meal is coming from?”

“Hmm, yes because you’re a complete stranger to that lifestyle choice,” she chuckled.

“Alright - in all seriousness, you know what I mean.”

“You? Serious? Henry, I don’t think I know you anymore. Antiva has changed you,” she said in mock disgust, wrinkling her nose for effect.

He threw his head back and laughed, his voice echoed down the corridor. “Indeed it has. But I have missed you, little sister.”

They walked down hallways and corridors until more voices could be heard. Elsie gently removed her hand from Henry’s arm as they approached the drawing room. An elven servant stood ready to open the door and announce them. Henry and Elsie exchanged a glance before the doors opened for them to enter.

“Announcing Enchanter Elsie Trevelyan of the Ostwick Circle of Magi and Henry FitzLeland Trevelyan.”

They stepped in together and the room fell silent. Large thin windows overlooked the gardens and immaculate Orlesian and Marcher items furnished the room. There were several sofas, chaises and armchairs positioned by the fireplace where the rest of her family were gathered. Not since before Elsie was sent to the Circle have so many Trevelyans been in one room. Half of them she didn’t recognise, but most wore Chantry robes. There were a few cousins, aunts and uncles, but she didn’t know their names - indeed, they probably only know her as the mage who lived in the Circle, and Henry as the troublesome bastard.

Elsie spotted Lucetta perched on the edge of a sofa, and made her way over to her, hoping to just slip into the group. But she didn't go unnoticed, when her youngest sister Cecilia bounced up to her and almost knocked Elsie over with a hug. “El! You’re here!” She squealed, squeezing her tightly. Elsie hugs her in return, feeling a room full of eyes upon them. “And Henry!” Cecelia gave him a brief hug too, her bright smile lighting the room.

But Cecelia was oblivious to any discomfort and took a step back, holding Elsie’s arms and looked up at her, as if memorising her face. Elsie did the same in return and for the first time in almost four years, looked down at her youngest sibling who was barely eighteen and already a Chantry Sister. The white and red robes suited her complexion and her light brown hair was tucked neatly under her hood. Elsie reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair away, feeling a warmth spread in her heart to have two of her sisters and her brother in the same room once more. It was fair to say that they all had a soft spot for Cecelia with her contagious and bubbly personality. She had obviously meant to do Andraste’s work in the Chantry for she shared the Holy Lady’s mantra with a kind and gentle heart as any could ask for. “We’ve all missed you so much!” She continued, holding Elsie’s hand and leading her over to the sofa where Lucetta was perched. But her chest thudded almost painfully when she saw her mother in the armchair next to Lucetta, sipping tea through her thinly drawn lips. Without a doubt Elsie had been her favourite. Lady Bette Trevelyan had high hopes for her and the family until her magic appeared. Indeed, she was pretty sure it is because of Bette Trevelyan that Elsie’s room remained the way it was. Although she was her mother, there was no doubt that she still resented Elsie for the little scandal her magic caused - the eldest child and heir to the Trevelyan estate, a mage? Her dear mother had never been so humiliated, even when the existence of Henry was made public. Elsie inclined her head. “My lady mother,” she said politely, remembering protocol she had not practiced for many years. Whenever she was allowed a short visit home, her mother was hardly ever around to see her, let alone talk to her. Always had another party or soiree to attend. “Enchanter Trevelyan,” Bette Trevelyan replied stiffly, placing emphasis on her title and looking at her dirty robes. “‘Enchanter’ of what now, I wonder?” “Mother, please…” Cecelia begged quietly and Lucetta looked away. Elsie placed a hand on her hip. “It’s alright Cece - if our lady mother has something to say, I would like to hear it.” Her chest thudded at her boldness, and the room around them hushed. Bette Trevelyan stood gracefully, teacup and saucer still in hand. “It is shameful how far the lowest of the Maker’s children have fallen, and now this - to think they could fall any lower.” Elsie visibly bristled, and clasped her hands before her to stop them shaking. “Yes, thank you mother. Lest we forget that I am one of your daughters.” “Something I pray for guidance on each and every single day,” she retorted. “The Maker-” Cecelia began but a warning look from Bette Trevelyan silenced her. Indeed, it was a look that could silence a Blight, if she so willed it. “To think,” her mother continued, “that those who are cursed with magic, who have been given good and kind shelter by the honest and faithful, dare rise up against their so-called ‘injustice’. You have no idea how fortunate you were, how lucky that you’re all not killed or instantly made Tranquil.” It was like a kick in the ribs for Elsie to hear her own mother speak so forthright about who she was - what she was. She took a steadying breath. “Magic exists to serve…” she began, with a few agreeable nods around the room from family members. “This is not serving!” She exclaimed and Elsie stared. Never had she seen her mother - the woman who is always so composed, eloquent and careful with her words - so unhinged. “That’s quite enough,” a deep voice cut through. They all turned to see Elsie’s father Bann Leland Trevelyan in the doorway, a younger woman at his side in full Templar armour. It took Elsie a few moments to recognise that the woman was her other sister, Evie. Elsie and Evie looked at each other from across the room, as if sizing one another up. Evie had cropped dark hair and a slight limp when she walked into the room. She also had a huge scar from her left brow, down to her cheek, which narrowly avoided her eye. They hadn’t seen one another since Ostwick fell almost eight months prior. Elsie looked at Evie uncertainty as her templar sister walked into the room with their father, who ushered the rest of the family out, so - for the first time almost fifteen years - it was the immediate Trevelyan family only. Bann Trevelyan, his wife and the four Trevelyan daughters. Even Henry was shown out, although Elsie dearly wished he could’ve stayed: mages were bastards in their parents eyes. Great Aunt Lucille lingered by the doorway, but with a polite nod from her nephew their father, the socialite aunt reluctantly took her leave also. The servants left the room also, closing the door behind them, and silence enveloped them. Their mother was the first to move, striding across the room to fold Evie into her arms. Evie barely returned the embrace, her eyes were still fixed solely on Elsie. When they broke apart, the rest of the family looked between Elsie and Evie, and it seemed as if they were collectively holding their breath. After a moment, Cecelia was finally the one to break the silence by hugging Evie just as tightly she did Elsie and Henry. ‘I’ve missed you so much! Look, Elsie is here too!” “Yes, I can see that,” Evie said quietly. Elsie took a step forward, wringing her hands together. “How have you been?” she asked softly. Evie pointed to her scar. “Could be better, but could’ve been worse,” she replied. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. Despite the circumstances, Elsie felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she pointed to her own scar. “Same here.” Before either of them could say another word, their father cleared his throat and ushered us to the table at the centre of the room. They each took a seat and Elsie carefully positioned herself next to her father and away from her mother. Lucetta sat on the other side of Elsie, folding her hands in her lap, her chin held high. It was more like a business meeting, not a catch up of family members. An elven servant entered with a tray of Antivan coffee and served us in silence. Elsie couldn’t help but watch how his hands trembled as he served their mother. She felt uncomfortable and shifted in her seat - Elsie had forgotten how the elves are second-class citizens and alienated in upper society. In the Circle, race and gender hadn’t mattered, and all were equal and judged purely on skill and talent. She couldn't help but think of her friends who were elves in the Circle. She wondered where they were now. But Bann Trevelan interrupted her musings before she could dwell further. “I’m not going to beat around the bush, let’s get straight to the point,” he said, clasping his hands together. It had been a long time since Elsie had seen her father in a meeting situation like this - not since before her magic appeared - and she’d forgotten how easily Bann Trevelyan could command a room. He had their undivided attention, although Elsie did find her mind wondering when she saw that his once auburn hair was now thinning and silver at the temples. Her father was aging well, but without a doubt, he was aging. And that fact made Elsie feel a little nostalgic from her life before the Circle. Despite not being part of one now, that life she had before could never come back - Lucetta had that privilege now. ‘We are in a unique position,” Leland was saying, and held up a letter. “I’ve received a message from the Divine, requesting our presence as she holds a conclave to end the war.” Evie and Elsie looked at each other across the table. “Are the mages willing to listen?” Evie says. Elsie bit her tongue and held off a retort and instead looked to Bann Trevelyan for an answer. “Both Grand Enchanter Fiona and Lord Seeker Lucius are requested to attend,” he said carefully, spreading his hands. Elsie cleared her throat. “I’ve already received word that a great number of mages will be attending,” she said, thinking of my contacts in the apostasy underworld. Who knew two years ago that I would know such people? She thought. Lady Bette Trevelyan narrowed her eyes. “Is that so?” she sniffed, taking a sip of coffee through pursed lips. “Bette,” Leland Trevelyan said quietly. She nodded and remained silent, but glared at Elsie over the rim of her cup. “So we need to decide who will attend on behalf of the Trevelyan family?” Lucetta confirmed. Bann Trevelyan nodded. “I believe that I should attend but my duties and my... health keep me here.” Elsie shota glance at Lucetta but she shook her head. Their father’s health? A question for another time, Elsie thought. “It’s a long way to where the Divine wants to hold the Conclave.” Lucetta glanced over the letter. “Haven? Where is that?” “It’s a remote village in Ferelden, in the Frostback mountains,” Leland replied. “The Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Cecelia said in an awed whisper. “That’s the village near the temple that was rediscovered during the Fifth Blight by the Hero of Ferelden.” “Ferelden is an awfully long way,” their mother sniffed. “But we must bid to Most Holy’s calling...” “I will attend,” Lucetta said, but Leland shook his head. “No, I need you here to help run the estate, as you well know.” “But father-” “Perhaps Lucetta should go, as she’s the heir?” Bette chipped in, but they all started talking over each other. Elsie watched them disagree and sargue, with even Cecelia saying her piece. Finally Elsie stood but was ignored. She waited another moment before summoning a small but powerful ball of fire into the palm of her hand. The crackling and heat of the flames halted their discussion immediately and they all looked at her, startled. “Let’s not forget what I am,” she said evenly. “Nor what this war is about. The solution is simple - before the Circle fell I was a respected teacher to apprentices and I wished for no part in the rebellion… but I won’t deny that after being on the run I am sympathetic to their cause.” She took a breath and extinguished the ball in her palm. “Evie is also a Templar, who, I believe is also respected within the Order, or what’s left of it. And we are sisters from a noble house - we must attend together.” “And show a united front - of course. Elsie, you’re brilliant,” Leland beamed. Evie looked at Elsie warily. “I see your point, but we’re not exactly best friends, are we?” she said cooly. We were once, she thought and tried to ignore the wrench in her gut at the thought. They had been so close - Evie becoming a Templar was mainly so they could stay close to one another. “It hardly matters now,” she said, more to herself than to anyone. “We need to be on the same level when at the Conclave to help with the talks. Perhaps that’s the best way we can find a solution... or a compromise at least.” “You’re right Elsie, of course you are. And Evie, are you willing?” Their father asked. They all looked over at her but she stared down at her cup of coffee which she hadn’t touched. “The Order is not what it was when I joined,” she said finally. “I daresay that I agree with Enchan- Elsie.” She said, meeting her gaze. “I suppose we should travel together?” To their surprise, Elsie shook her head before anyone could answer. “No, we should go separately by meeting at the Conclave, perhaps a day or two apart from one another. That way I can arrive with some of my contacts who will never know of the conversation that’s transpired here - the same for you too.” Evie nodded. “That makes sense.” “We also wouldn’t want to anger anyone by thinking that you’re my guard and I your prisoner.” “Oh come now, it was never that bad,” their mother interjected, rolling her eyes. “You were lucky to be in a place of study, to atone for your Maker-given sin in a safe environment provided by the diligent and brave Templars” Anger licks Elsie’s stomach and she glared at Bette across the table. “That’s rich, considering you’ve never stepped foot within a circle”, she retorted. “Not this again...” Lucetta mumbled. But Elsie ignored her and both Elsie and Bette opened their mouths but Cecelia stood, knocking the table and making all the cups clatter. “Stop it, both of you!” She exclaimed. Elsie looked away, ashamed to see the tears welled in the corner of her eyes. “For the first time we’re all together - can we not just get along for once?” “You’re absolutely right Cece,” Elsie said, sitting back down. “But I shan’t apologise for speaking truths.” “Alright now that’s enough,” Bann Trevelyan said in a tired voice. “Cecelia, you’ll be accompanying your sisters to the Conclave - Divine Justinia has requested your presence by name.” Lady Bette Trevelyan’s anger disappeared instantly as she clapped her gloved hands in delight. “Oh, how marvellous! Cecelia dear, this will work wonders for your progression within the Chantry.” Cecelia bit her lip and nodded humbly, but was Lucetta who spoke, “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you mother?” An unbearably smug expression crossed Bette Trevelyan’s face. “I may have said the right words in the right ears…” “Thank you, mother,” Cecelia finally said. “I am most honoured to attend and see the Temple of Sacred Ashes for myself.” “Remember that it’s not just a pilgrimage my dear, but an opportunity for you and this family.” Elsie tried not to roll her eyes. Trust my mother to capitalise on the chaos. “Cece can travel with me and the Templars,” Evie said. “There’s no need - she can come with me,” Elsie replied quickly, not trusting her sister’s Templar contacts. If they were anything like some of the templars at the Ostwick Circle, then no one would be in their right mind to trust their little sister with them “What, and travel with your fellow rebel mages?” Evie snorted. “Any of them could be abominations or practice blood magic.” “I can protect her from other mages if needs be,” she replied calmly. “And I can move undercover much easier than you.” “Magic turned to a noble purpose indeed,” their mother sniffed. But Elsie ignored them and turned to her father. “I can protect her from renegade templars and mages alike,” she said. “How about we let Cecelia decide?” Lucetta said from beside her. So they all turned to look at the small buck-toothed little sister expectantly. She reddened under their gazes and avoided any eye contact. “I don’t want to be a problem...” she mumbled. Bette tutted impatiently. “Then choose, darling.” Cecelia nodded more to herself than to their mother’s words. She spread her hands. “I feel I ought to go with Elsie.” “As you wish,” Evie said stiffly. “Don’t take it personally,” Elsie said, trying to lighten the mood. But Evie just looked at her, her lips pursed in an expression that mirrored their mother’s. There was a pause before Leland stood. “Well then, that wasn’t too painful now, was it?” “Father, I’ll help make arrangements if you wish,” Lucetta said, also rising. “Thank you dear, yes that would be a good help. I shall reply to the Divine at once with our plan”. “Thank you, father,” Evie said, and Elsie echoed her words. The elven servant pushed open the doors and Bann Leland Trevelyan left with Lucetta in tow. Elsie looked around the room to see her remaining sisters talking to one another and her mother calling the rest of their relatives back into the room.

Henry lingered in the doorway and offered her a smile. As the family mingled and chatted, the two outcasts remained by the door and surveyed the room, like wallflowers.

“The mage and the bastard,” he sighed.

“The mage and the bastard,” Elsie repeated but smiled and turned to him. “So! Tell me all about Antiva…”

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#long post #my writing #Believe Again #Fic: Believe Again #fanfiction #dragon age #da:i #trevelyan #elsie trevelyan #female trevelyan #trevelyan family

3 notes · View notes