#anyways this chapter was been in my head!!! since i first started drafting!

[moonbaby26]

Title: Before the Storm

(Chapter 17 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, binge drinking, vaginal sex, toxic relationship, dubious consent, depression

Chapter Synopsis: The very night of your official engagement to Doflamingo, you are also made to sign your life away to Dressrosa’s king.

You spiral, punishing yourself as he plans to change your past even further. While others still move as distant pieces in the even larger game. 

Author’s Notes: For those that do follow this story and read as soon as it updates, I’m so sorry you had to wait 5,000 years this time! I wish there was more here as a reward for that patience. I’m sure there are still typos too. Please proceed with caution! It just needed to be out of my drafts. I’ll proofread after I sleep again. Maybe. ����

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

——————————

—————————— 

Something was going wrong with the submarine again. Nothing catastrophic, but it could always progress to that if they didn’t take the time to investigate and repair as they went. Pieces became worn and overtaxed easily. Noises that weren’t even there yesterday would suddenly manifest, anxiety inducing, so many fathoms deep in the darkness.

Law was sure there was a metaphor for their lives in there somewhere too. Just like he and his crew. How much this craft could really endure, until one day it just wouldn’t anymore.

He’d still felt that mental weight on himself as well. Fresh and nagging ever since Doflamingo’s name had been put back to the forefront of his mind with those first reports from Scylla just days ago.

Ghosts of his past had churned up enough that Law was almost glad when that bearing in the engine room had started making a newer, awful whining sound.

It was excuse enough to breach the surface and focus on anything else as they’d headed for another island to both look for parts and avoid the heavier than normal marine patrols in this region of the North Blue.

There’d been a pirate attack on a nearby island called Orlinde. At least that’s what Law had heard. Some shithole port town there, with no real wealth or industry of its own had been burned to the ground. And it hadn’t made much sense as to why. Seemingly foolish to risk the ire of the navy when there’d be no treasure or significant beri to even be had in a place like that.

But whatever the reasoning for those other pirates, their actions there had the marines now swarming. To the point that it funneled anyone actively trying to avoid arrest or other harassment further east.

To an unaffiliated island chain that Law had ordered his crew to then disembark at. All save for Bepo anyway, as strolling through the center of town with an overly nervous ball of white fluff wouldn’t have helped much in their bid to keep a low profile.

They had intended to be here just long enough to find what they needed and to make repairs. But every other outlaw in the area had much the same idea. Crew after crew camping out here as an easy stopover while waiting for the larger marine presence to die down nearby.

And this many egos all right on top of each other became a perfect powder keg for disaster really.

Shachi and Penguin were now on either side of their captain, trying to look as unbothered as he seemed while all three boys stuck tightly together.

They walked past the crowded stores and food stalls. With drunken cursing, and all other sounds of debauchery already going on this soon after sunset.

An old man at the harbor had said there was a store in this direction that sold supplies for ship building. It was worth a try to start there first.

But that unsettled feeling was still in Law’s mind. He was too inexperienced to fully understand it yet. The unnamed intuition which had more to do with what would be happening rather than just what could.

“Hey, Spots!”

And there, a male voice had called out loudly. The first inkling of trouble just this soon.

Law’s eyes had flitted up to an open doorway of one of the bars farther up the street. But the teen kept walking, silent to show his crew he expected much the same from them.

Yet the stranger’s second try to get their attention was even louder than the first, as the owner of that voice stepped into the muddy street in front of them. “Hey, I’m talking to you, you prick!”

And Law did stop reluctantly then, not in fear, but in annoyance. He knew an immediate waste of his time when he saw one.

The man that’d been yelling was about his own age though. Young and snide with a grinning girl under one arm. The man’s other hand held a large blade that now pointed towards Law and his crew.

“Are you hard of hearing? I mean that’s what’s on your hat, right? Black spots? You all look damn stupid I think. But my girl likes your hat. So how much do you want for it, kid?”

The stranger sounded a bit drunk actually. And the girl ribbed him in her reaction. “Fur is in fashion, Sarquiss! So don’t be so stingy. Make them an offer! You know Joker’s gonna pay us good this time regardless.“

Sarquiss? Joker? Those were just two more names that Law had never heard before. They meant nothing to him as the idiots continued to talk.

“This kid’s pretty skinny though. What if he freezes, baby? It’s awful cold out here.” The man smirked down at her, flirting abruptly in return as if he hadn’t just been the one that’d started this whole confrontation.

What kind of fool ever looked away while in the middle of threatening someone though? 

These dolts would have been eaten alive in the ways Law had originally been taught. Because seeing the first opening only meant that the first move was his.

It would have been the first kill too if Law had still been that literal to those old teachings. But he left his own sword sheathed against his shoulder.

As it was now, he had no interest in making a scene. Law had planned to initiate a room and simply swap the blade that man held for some of the fresh horse shit he’d already noticed piled up along the street’s edge.

The resulting shock and disgust would have caused plenty of distraction for him, Shachi, and Penguin to quickly be on their way.

But that heavy feeling within Law had somehow remained, even as his hand and lips had begun to move with that whisper of a room.

A dread in him that was not explained until the moment that stranger’s coat had opened further with his playful movements against the girl.

And Law’s eyes had widened as he finally saw the distinct tattoo across that man’s chest. That feeling clicking in him as he knew the absolute mistake he was about to make even before it happened.

No.

He could not stop himself.

He didn’t want to.

“Takt.”

Shachi and Penguin’s surprised gasps were drowned out as the girl’s resulting scream met Law’s ears. 

Her boyfriend’s body had been ripped away from her without warning. And flung like a ragdoll, straight through the bar’s long window and all those wooden slats which supported it. 

It was a terribly loud crash, so many eyes then looking to Law and his friends from both sides of the street.

The Heart Pirates didn’t hesitate either.

“Go!” Law yelled. 

And all three of them had doubled back, beginning to sprint for the harbor.

——————————

Sarquiss had landed hard, stunned and sprawled on that barroom floor to the brief silence of so many other pirates inside. His own crew was chief among them.

The circular tattoo on his chest now smiled to the ceiling. Its left eye struck through, and its wide grin becoming accented with fresh red as blood began to seep from so many cuts dealt from that broken window.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened.” Sarquiss stammered, bewildered and in pain as another pirate’s boots came to stand near his head. 

“Somebody got a cheap shot in while you were buzzed on this shit liquor. That’s all.” The owner of those boots scoffed indignantly. “They’re trying to ruin our party.” But Bellamy still grinned in a practiced copy of that now scratched up jolly roger on his first mate’s chest.

He motioned for his other crew to help Sarquiss up off of the floor while he strode for the door. “It’s fine. I was getting bored of this place anyway. Gladius said we only had to lay low for a day or so after Orlinde before we could put our flags back up.”

Bellamy stood in the doorway then, just seeing the backs of those other young pirates disappearing behind a building further down the street as they ran.

“So meet me back at the ship.” His legs were already coiling as he readied to jump and start clearing right over those buildings to catch up with them. “I’ll get us some fresh meat, and we’ll have a little fun while we wait on Joker’s next instructions.”

——————————

The return to the palace had come soon enough. And you were drinking whiskey straight by that point, no ice, no mixer. Right out of a fancy cabinet of top shelf bottles that likely weren’t meant for anyone but the king himself. 

You were still in uniform, but long off duty in your own mind. With one of your legs crossed over the other, and an arm over the back of Doflamingo’s couch in his office. 

Whatever anger remained in you for your lack of choice in all of this, was enough to keep even the three executives away. That danger must have been exuding in your body language still. Though you felt their eyes on you intermittently regardless.

They were here to witness your defeat, and to congratulate their master on his success in spinning this into exactly what he wanted it to be. 

But you were staring at nothing while they talked. Your gaze on an empty corner currently, and miles from this well appointed room as you drank yourself away just as you’d wanted to do on that dark beach earlier this evening.

You were quietly furious for this treatment. But you also believed you were every bit as responsible for how quickly this relationship had escalated.

No one had picked up or dialed your phone for you the night you’d first called Doflamingo and asked him to meet you in Scylla.

No one had actually put a gun to your head and drug you into that beautiful church to wait for him alone.

No one had told you to fall for him.

Regardless of any blackmail he’d used to this point, you could have been less willing to let it work. You could have told the truth from the beginning and hid behind your betters. Tsuru, Aokiji, or likely even so many others who would have at least tried to help you.

The truth would set you free.

Wasn’t that the old saying? What an optimistic mismatch of words.

More like the truth would cut your heart out and feed it to you with a smile.

“(Y/N).” And his voice did easily rise through that other chatter.

He was the only one here that still would make you pay attention as you looked back to Doflamingo’s desk. Where he now sat, binding you to him for life with each additional swipe of his pen.

“Answer the magistrate’s final questions. It’s required.” The warlord ordered you then, yet with a veil of patience not yet fully undone.

Besides yourself and Doflamingo, the only others in this room were the executives and the government official that had arrived with all those stacks of paperwork and questions.

Questions for you too that you’d mostly ignored, especially once you’d been several glasses into the whiskey.

While peasants may just do a quick hop over to the local justice of the peace and call it a night, anyone becoming property and consort to a world government endorsed king seemingly had far more to worry about.

And when your gaze did go back to that thin little government busybody, he reminded you only of a small rat. Fussing with his hands in such a nervous way as the papers shuffled through them. Like wringing little paws, frightened and stuck between all the monsters now in this room.

“Why can’t you answer everything for me?” You exhaled back to Doflamingo though, the accumulating burn of the whiskey making your body feel so warm at least as you finally responded to the pirate.

“Because that’s not how this works.” Doflamingo replied, still tolerating you even then somehow. 

Your eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Since when? Because that’s all I’ve ever seen here.” You answered. He always spoke for you. He chose for you. He was the perfectionist. He was the control freak.

And you were the idiot.

A depressed woman who’d attempted to bury all her problems with a devil, just to be as surprised as anyone when she’d inevitably woken up in hell for her efforts.

“What’s the next question?” Doflamingo just asked the official directly then, all while looking back down to the papers he was still signing.

That warlord didn’t explode, he didn’t even raise his voice that time.

And you didn’t dwell on it as you went back to drinking, having gotten what you wanted if even for a moment in being left alone.

It was only the executives that seemed to take notice, subtly surprised as Doflamingo allowed that little pushback.

“Ah, well…” The official still stammered. “Sire, the next section was about the verification of her birth status. She was born on the island of Orlinde, correct? Within the North Blue?”

“Yes. That’s already in her marine record.” Doflamingo’s tone was notably shorter with the official too, further confirming the clear difference in treatment you had just received.

“Well, there’s a slight discrepancy…a clerical error I’m sure.” That small man produced the weakest chuckle you’d ever heard. “I just needed her to say it was indeed an error.”

And Doflamingo did look back up at that, those facial muscles of his tightening in a way which never meant anything good. “What error?”

“The more discerning background check required for unions of this, um, level. It…it noted her name on the registry for Orlinde as being born to a…well, to a slave woman, sire.”

You felt the room change.

The official became even shakier too, horrified really as an inhuman growl came from that desk before the magistrate could say anything more.

“She was never born of a slave. So your first assumption of that being bad data was the correct one. Is that understood?”

And you were just watching. Observing these further lies as Doflamingo told them.

His lips were pulled back from his teeth in an expression you fully recognized too.

Note anything different and I’ll gut you where you goddamn stand. 

That’s what that energy so clearly said. 

“Of course, your highness! I’m fixing it now! I’ll correct it all immediately!”

You knew how fucked up it was for you just to be an observer to such bullying of the weak. You were supposed to protect others, even when they sniveled and whined like this man now was.

But you didn’t feel that guilty either as you uncrossed your legs and shifted on the couch.

And Doflamingo’s head turned the moment you had moved even that much again. 

You knew he had to do that, to properly see you at this angle. But something about that instant attention made you look at him even longer in return.

Because what did he think you were going to do?

What did he want you to do?

“King Doflamingo and Ms. (Y/N), that only leaves the oath itself…” The official’s fully uneasy voice interrupted those additional odd thoughts.

“Then go ahead.” The warlord commanded him just as quickly. “Read it to her.”

The official nodded, with a pen clutched in one of his sweating hands. And the final pages of all of that paperwork in the other as he looked down to read it.

“Ms. (Y/N)…do you hereby agree to loyalty until your death to King Donquixote Doflamingo of Dressrosa? Do you also understand the legal bindings of this union? And the consequences of non compliance, up to and including charges of treason against this aforementioned monarch and our World Government via his status as a sanctioned vessel beholden to our Holy Land of Mariejois?”

You really were too far gone for this shit.

So what? If you got into another fight and decked him when he deserved it, that’d now be the same as rebellion against the Red Line itself? Just because he was a government backed dictator?

Was arguing with him treason too? What about ever leaving this island? Was that desertion and dereliction of your soon to be wifely duties? 

Even signing your marine recruitment papers hadn’t felt this restrictive. And that’d been you literally agreeing to march to your own death if your commanding officers simply said to.

“Yeah…what else am I supposed to say?” You knew you weren’t going to be let out of this room otherwise. And you did want out as you stretched your legs away from you, still seated on that couch. 

Things were starting to feel too much for you again, like everything was closing in once more. “Fuck it…yes. I guess I do.” You forced another couple of breaths as you brought the whiskey glass to your lips again.

Or at least you’d tried to.

The strings that then looped around your wrist had jerked your hand hard enough to splash that liquid down the front of your shirt instead. Right before you were being pulled up and onto your feet.

“I already said yes, you-” You started to bitch at him immediately. It was hard enough to catch your balance when this inebriated without Doflamingo also pulling you so roughly to his desk.

“And I accept your agreement.” He laughed abruptly, cutting both you and the official off before any other response could be given.

It hurt you as your hips hit his desk. And with him already seated, he didn’t have to lean as far down to reach your mouth across that desk either.

Doflamingo got to taste the full brunt of that alcohol you were now hiding behind as he kissed you.

While you got to taste his still enduring desperation for any piece of you that was left for the taking.

It was going to be a very long night.

——————————

The paperwork was done and sent. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and Doflamingo was already back over the top of you in his massive bed.

A large glass of his best cava was in his hand as his hips pumped against you slowly while he drank. He was savoring the drawn out pressure of you around him, mixed into that chilled feeling of the sparkling wine now flooding down his throat.

He swallowed again, then moaning as his mouth came back off of the glass.

“You fucking lush…you’re such a bad influence.” He laughed a little after, running his thumb firmly over your parted mouth while his cock continued to move in and out between your legs at that languid pace.

He could nearly get off on just the sound of his own voice by now though. He was so stimulated. Everything felt good. Everything felt right.

Because he’d done it.

You were his in every legal way that mattered. 

And you were still somewhat conscious this time. The alcohol metabolizing enough by now to mostly take your voice. But you were watching him as he fucked you. His every action slow and deliberate as he fully enjoyed himself and this renewed lack of your resistance.

You even gave a few little moans and gasps as he rewarded you again by angling himself just right.

“Good girl…such a good girl for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He panted a bit anyway, his lust driving up his body temperature regardless of the careful pace. He reached briefly to set his now empty glass back onto the nightstand.

“I want this all the time…all the damn time. You know that right? I can’t stop…not when it’s you.” He just kept on, using that steady, long lasting rhythm.

He did try to keep his full weight off of your wounded thigh at least. Mindful of where he moved your leg as he took you. But this was still a celebration after all. He also wanted to feel you under him in all the right ways.

“Doffy…” You did grimace a little as the tip of him kissed against your cervix again.

He smiled at the plea of his name from your lips though. You were so pretty like this. And all of it was for him.

Maybe tomorrow your brain would be back to functioning well enough for him to explain your other wedding gifts as well.

Ever since the two of you had first sailed from Scylla together, he’d gotten busy with moving his chess pieces all over the board for you.

The nearest loyal mongrels Gladius could assign for him to your home island of Orlinde, had already razed that brothel you’d been born in to ash in a much needed cleansing of your pedigree.

While another official on Doflamingo’s payroll had just as recently planted forged documents of your revised parentage for Big News Morgans to find instead. 

Doflamingo had already teased you with the idea of gifting that Scyllian villa to you. The villa that became the first nest the two of you had ever slept side by side in, would of course now be important to him as well. It was not leaving your and his new family no matter what now.

But that was still not enough.

With the machinations he had going, your bloodline was going to be from Scylla.

Any children you could give him would then have both Dressrosa and Scylla to their credit.

Which, that was now another thing he needed to follow up on starting tomorrow. Caesar had had well enough time to deliver.

Doflamingo smiled again though as you shuddered quietly beneath him. 

“Still with me?” He hummed, seeing your eyes close then as he rubbed his hand down your side and you stilled again. “Or have you forgotten your own name, dear, while that poor liver of yours cries out from abuse?”

The moonlight highlighted his entertained expression as his lips pulled back from his teeth again. His hand had moved up to your throat as he gripped it in his continued pleasure.

He watched as your breasts rose and fell a little harder with those deeper breaths your body was then forced to take as he gradually restricted your airway.

It made his cock twitch so well inside of you.

“Forget your name anyway.” Doflamingo growled as he felt himself nearing that edge of climax when you finally coughed beneath his ever tightening hand. He was beginning to choke you, and it only made him want more of that feeling. “Because you’re a Donquixote now.”

Or at least the property of one as he felt your own hand then move to close on his larger wrist weakly.

Your body was too drunk to stop him, but that reflex of self preservation still flickered up in you all the same.

Doflamingo moaned loudly too as he saw your eyes reopen, half lidded to look at him in that new, pitiful way.

That helpless look is what did send him over the edge. As you tried and failed to breathe in his grip, he only bucked his hips that much harder as he spilled himself out into you yet again.

This is what it meant to truly own you.

——————————— 

“She hasn’t called?” Aokiji asked as he’d entered the other admiral’s office without warning.

But Kizaru looked unbothered as usual even at the surprise visit, just glancing up from a report that Sentomaru had sent in.

“Well…hello to you too. You’ve been off base quite a while.” He did comment though, watching Aokiji through those amber tinted glasses. “We were starting to think you may have gone rogue actually.”

It was said so calmly, but with just that hint of a smirk. “Sengoku wouldn’t have liked that.”

“I went patrolling on my own for a few days. That’s nothing new.” Aokiji frowned, and not taking a seat as he continued to stand. “But did Captain (Y/N) call today? Akainu’s got the Fleet Admiral in a meeting, and no one else seems to know.”

Kizaru shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her.” He looked back to his paperwork, but with noticeable disinterest in it now. “Why don’t you just call her yourself if it’s really become that distracting to you?”

But the resulting silence did make Kizaru finally look up again. That slight amusement was clearer on his face now. “Oh? Are you afraid to call her?”

Aokiji’s arms were crossed, his whole demeanor looking incredibly stern. “This isn’t about me. So get that stupid look off of your face.”

Wasn’t this his normal face? Kizaru thought to himself. Regardless, he didn’t seem insulted. “Hmm. Think you might say something unprofessional if you did call?” He mused to only add to this instead. “I guess that could be embarrassing for someone of our rank.”

And a cold palm did slam down onto the desk then. Aokiji could hold back much longer usually. But that cool composure was seemingly less and less lately. Especially when it came to the subject of you.

“Enough. I’ve told you so many times…” The ice admiral still warned.

Yet Kizaru barely reacted to that flare of temper, just glancing to the now frost covered hand and then back up into the frustrated eyes of its owner.

“Yeah? …You think you’ll just endanger her if you make any obvious fuss, don’t you? Doflamingo is quite an unstable man. But how many years have we known each other now? I’d say you’ve already made your move if I was to bet.” Kizaru nearly smirked again. “Where have you really been these past few days?”

“You’re no help at all. As usual.” Aokiji grumbled, just stepping back from the desk at the accusation.

He didn’t deny this either.

But Kizaru simply watched him, rather expressionless once more. “Did you ask for my help? I don’t recall that happening.”

Aokiji’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at him. “You’d be in Akainu’s ear in a heartbeat if I did.”

“And so what? We’re all comrades in arms…aren’t we?” Finally there was that minuscule trace of a frown on Kizaru’s lips. 

They were supposed to work together.

But that look of disappointment was just for a moment before he set his pen down and grabbed the receiver from off of the large transponder snail on his desk.

Aokiji’s eyes widened slightly at this movement, surprised and untrusting as Kizaru leaned back in his chair while the operator connected.

“Yes, admiral?” HQ’s switchboard girl answered kindly.

“Hello, Miss,” He said with a new, slight smile. “I need you to ring someone for me.”

“Of course, admiral. Who do you want me to connect you to?”

“Pull the warlord numbers if you please. I want Donquixote Doflamingo’s most direct line.”

There was just the briefest pause there too. Her voice changing a little. “The Fleet Admiral has put a restriction on that line, sir. No non-emergency calls. Is this considered an emergency?”

“Sure.” Kizaru was patient as anything, almost relaxing in his chair. “Let’s say it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, sir. Then I’m connecting you now.” Her nervousness gave way to dutiful obedience quickly enough as there was a click followed by momentary silence.

“The hell are you doing!?” Aokiji snapped at him in that brief delay before the line began to trill in new ringing. 

Kizaru looked back up at him, unfazed.

The phone continued to ring.

“It’d be pretty late in Dressrosa right now wouldn’t it?” Kizaru just thought out loud instead of giving a proper answer, glancing at the multiple clocks across his wall which denoted the different times across  the seas.

But Aokiji was not amused at all, starting to reach to hang up that transponder snail himself before a loud click had both admirals pause.

“This better be good.” Came the noticeably sleep hazed voice. A sharpness to it already though, with that transponder snail scowling up at them now.

“Oh…did I interrupt your beauty rest, pirate?” Kizaru responded, watching that snail as Aokiji went fully silent. “This is Kizaru.” He then identified himself simply.

There was a moment of hesitation and maybe even a bit of surprise on the other end of the line as the snail paused. But the warlord’s acceptance didn’t take long. Because there weren’t many men that would have been so casual as this with him. And those that would, didn’t sound like that.

“Heh. To what do I owe this pleasure then?” Doflamingo did recover quickly, dark voice sounding more interested now.

“I’m calling from HQ.” Kizaru drawled. “Seems our captain that you appointed to your island recently hasn’t reported in to us today. And you wouldn’t have had anything to do with that little lapse in her communication, now would you?”

The implied threat didn’t even have to be overt. It was well enough for any of the three navy admirals to take a personal interest in anything like this of course.

And this would now be the second admiral to do so in your name if the rumors of Aokiji’s previous visit to Doflamingo’s house in Sabaody were to be believed.

And Kizaru did believe it.

What he was surprised by was that it hadn’t been enough. 

A pirate that didn’t have the sense to back down for even an admiral.

It was a problem.

And the snail had quieted for another moment, its serious expression seeming to consider the weight of this new questioning from the admiral.

But Kizaru was exactly correct. Doflamingo understood the threat.

Doflamingo chose not to heed it.

Because the snail smiled then, wide and cruel as the warlord’s decision was made.

“Well…it is late. But if you insist, then why don’t you ask her yourself, admiral? It really has nothing to do with me.” Doflamingo replied with an all new goading.

And there was a sound of a bed creaking. 

The warlord’s voice became slightly quieter as he’d moved away from the receiver.

“Captain…hey.” It almost sounded gentle. But that snail was still grinning, Doflamingo’s dark voice still close enough for his real expression to be picked up. That smug pride radiating even as the intentional softness continued. “No…you need to wake up. You’ve got a colleague on the line…come here.”

The two admirals stared at that snail.

“…what?” A confused female voice finally protested.

“The phone, darling. It’s your work. Already not respecting your off duty hours at all it seems…”

The temperature now plummeted in Kizaru’s office at that vulnerable sound of you, as well as the full implications of what this truly meant.

But Kizaru cut in before Aokiji could. Even as both admirals’ breaths were then coming in trails of vapor within the room.

“Captain.” Kizaru said louder and firmer than he ever normally would to you.

And you heard it. Also recognizing his voice that you’d heard far more times than any warlord ever would.

There was more noise of the snail moving then. Like you were now picking it up from off of the bed. “…Admiral?” You asked in delayed surprise.

But there was more to it than that. You didn’t sound right, even in just these couple of words.

“Yes. Checking in, Captain. You didn’t give your status to anyone today.” Kizaru answered.

“I…” You tried. “There was…” Yes, they could fully tell now. You were trying so hard, but slurring every brief word none the less.

You were fully drunk. 

And you finally gave up, starting to actually plead in that humiliation of being ambushed in this way. “I…I’m fine. But I can’t…debrief right now. Sir…I’m…I’m sorry…”

The snail trembled, its eyes heartbreakingly defeated.

It was worse than any of them had ever thought then.

This was not the woman they knew.

Aokiji was about to snap. And Kizaru considered transmitting himself towards Sengoku’s office here and now.

But their shared enemy still most running this show wasn’t ceding his spotlight yet either.

“Admiral.” Doflamingo’s voice came back, shamelessly calm in contrast to your now evident emotions. “The Captain can speak with you later. I’m sure you’d agree that there’s nothing wrong with a little over indulgence when off the clock…we’ve all been there.” 

And he even made a noise as if he was comforting you beside him. Hushing you with a mimicry of affection before he spoke again. “…I’ll try to have her touch base with you tomorrow if we have time. Once she’s sobered up of course.”

Yet that snail also showed its teeth again before it was done. The harsher expression forming which didn’t match that measured tone at all.

“But tomorrow we’ll be very busy as well. Some news will be coming out, and her work for Dressrosa will be taking priority. The mission always comes first, correct? And she is one of your most dedicated.”

The snail’s tongue moved across those teeth. One final jab then added like a garnish on the heap of bullshit already being presented.

“This king is certainly glad to have her services at least.”

And Kizaru was forced to make a choice. 

He disappeared in a flash of yellow light, taking the snail with him as Aokiji had reached for it to speak.

No one could match Kizaru’s speed. And Aokiji had then turned, the purest rage within those dark eyes as Kizaru now stood all the way out in the hallway, holding that snail.

It was already back asleep as Kizaru had disconnected the call even before he’d moved.

“I’ll kill him.” Aokiji breathed, ice having already overtaken half of his face.

Kizaru was initially silent. His eyes had narrowed as well behind his glasses.

But then he spoke to his peer, blunt and sure. “They’d order me and Sakazuki to erase you for treason, brother. And that wouldn’t help anybody. Now would it?”

Aokiji gave him a look of disgust. Words seemed pointless by now. They both knew how wrong this was.

Yet Kizaru did begin walking back to him. A show of continued trust really. Because they were not enemies.

“Whatever you already did…” Kizaru started. “Is that going to help her?”

Aokiji’s shoulders sank ever so slightly, but his ice did not recede.

“Temporarily…but I came back here to do the rest of it. I am going to get her off of Dressrosa. No matter what that takes.”

——————————

Borsalino had actually hung up on him. The least passionate of all three admirals, and Doflamingo was certain he’d still gotten under that man’s skin.

Were you really that important to all of them then? Doflamingo’s own ego was happy to believe that you were.

Because it made you feel even more hard won if so. His marine treasure, stolen straight from the top and now further slipping through the hands of even the world’s greatest soldiers.

And how interesting that they didn’t seem to know about your public betrothal yet. Kizaru was a hard one to judge though. He hadn’t mentioned it at least.

Hopefully this really did mean that there were no marine spies left on Dressrosa to call and tattle to HQ. None outside of the toys working in his underground port anyway.

And he’d taken your own phone away immediately after the incident with Crocodile. You’d only been allowed to make calls right in front of him now.

Morgans’ reporters were likely playing things close to the vest too, to not share anything until those newspapers went to press. They wanted the first and only scoop for tomorrow’s worldwide release.

But there was nothing Sengoku could possibly do to reverse this either once he would find out. You were still a marine, just as Doflamingo had promised he’d let you remain. But you were also now his wife, with all of the added immunity that provided for you.

You couldn’t be fired, or even demoted. Not unless Doflamingo wanted you to be.

The five old men on the Red Line had reluctantly agreed to this in his stipulations. No doubt just humoring the traitorous brat that they still thought he was.

If they believed he was distracted, it made their lives easier. Less trouble he could cause for them.

Perhaps you’d actually thank him some day though. He was a generous master after all. Pulling his strings all the way from heaven to hell in this whirlwind of a love affair with you.

But tonight you were still too upset. Still too close to it all to realize how lucky you actually were to have his attention this deeply.

Your head was on his chest once more as he rubbed your back idly in the dark.

He could feel that dampness against his bare skin. Your silent tears as you surely thought your career was now dead and gone.

You were crying yourself back to sleep like the pitiful, broken thing you still were.

But he didn’t mind. 

Doflamingo kissed the top of your head as that new whim overcame him.

You were his responsibility now.

His prize and his companion to defend. 

Dawn would come again tomorrow, and with it the world’s reactions to what he’d done to you. But he welcomed that challenge and whatever new enemies it would bring him.

Because he’d bury them all like the good mate he was. He would protect you. This was his nest and his woman. 

He nuzzled his face back down against your hair. Hiding his scarred eye as the other eye watched the room for a bit longer before also drifting closed.

Your arms were tight around him. It felt right. But even in all his intense possessiveness that this inspired, there was something else so wholly new as well.

He felt safe.

He felt needed.

Until death do you part indeed. As that would be the only possible way for anyone to ever carve you from him now.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt.3

Hello! A part three has arrived! This chapter also triples as a birthday present to @thedeimoshimself AND a happy two year lazzo anniversary! It's been two years hoyo where the FUCK is Pantalone?!

Notes: Sfw (why do I keep saying that, I don't have plans to make this NSFW), reader's dad is fully an asshole, slight homophobia and ableism? No slurs but like implied homophobia and reader is slightly infantilized over his condition by his mother

Pt.1, pt.2

If the occasional sight of Pantalone walking out of your father’s office didn’t give it away, the increasing arguments between your parents told you that somehow the man convinced the Regrator to become his business partner. You assume it’s purely on your father’s actual management skills, as there’s not a chance Pantalone found his first few impressions charming. Perhaps it helps that your father’s business shrinking down is more a result of a changing job market than it is any actual incompetence. That’s what you’ve heard, anyways. You were never a business major so most of what your father says goes in one ear and out the other.

Additionally, your father has been kissing Pantalone’s ass ever since the two started working together, and most of it comes in the form of inviting him over for dinner, where he will regale the Harbinger with a fascinatingly mundane tale or a business tactic that Pantalone has surely already mastered. You’re a rare guest at these dinners, choosing to work on your book instead.

Still, in the rare moments where you and Pantalone share the same space, you have to admit he’s pleasant company. He’s polite, and when he inquires about your work, he listens intently to your answer. You’ve also learned he’s a rambler, going on tangents the length of all your published works combined. It gets overwhelming whenever the subject is about Snezhnaya’s financial state or the profit margins of the Northland Bank, but his magnetic voice lures you in anyways. When you pass him by, you catch a whiff of a floral cologne, though it’s so fleeting and subtly you can never place the flower itself. Nothing that would grow in Snezhnaya. 

… It would not be inaccurate to say you have the most littlest of crushes on Pantalone, but nothing more. He’s a conventionally attractive man with a soothing voice and nice taste in perfume. He also talks to you like he would your father, never with an air of pity or condescension like your family does. Naturally you’d be drawn to this.

Your mother has stopped mentioning her discomfort over the partnership because she has grown tired of arguing about it. She regards the Harbinger with politeness, as she would with any other guest, but makes herself scarce unless her presence is absolutely necessary. She thinks it’s hypocritical of your father to claim downsizing would be a black mark on your family’s reputation, but partnering with the Fatui for monetary gain is much better. She hates the thought of him being around you and your siblings, especially you.

You tie the twine wrapped around the stack of paper on your desk tight, ensuring none of the pages come loose. “I can handle him just fine.”

“He’s a Harbinger, you don’t just get that rank the moment you join the Fatui! You don’t get that sort of ranking or title through goodhearted, honest work.”

“I know.”

“Especially him. Being a charismatic and intelligent business man is his most notable trait. Who knows what sort of manipulative tricks he has up his sleeve?”

You turn around, your mother briefly passing through your field of vision, before you see your bed, and the open briefcase on top of it. Picking up the latest chapter’s draft, you make your way over to your bed. “So when he asks me how my writing is going, or what I’ve been up to lately, do I just ignore him?”

“Obviously not,” your mother replies, “but just… I don’t like him talking to you.”

“I’m a grown man,” you respond, dropping the draft into your briefcase, “not a child. I will survive a little bit of small talk with him when we cross paths.”

“Just watch what you say around him,” your mother insists, “he’s the kind of man that will find any weakness and exploit him, and–”

“I have many.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

You slam the briefcase and look up at your mother. “For the last time, I am not a child!” You lift your hand and curl your index finger and thumb into a small hole. “Just because this is what I deal with everyday doesn’t mean you have to keep coddling me!”

Silence hangs in the air as your mother stares at you, eyes wide and lip trembling. Irritation gives way to pity once again. You know she means well. You know she feels guilt. You know she blames herself for your shortcomings and frustrations.

You sigh. “Sorry, it’s the deadline,” you tell her, “I’m just stressed over the next chapter, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No, n-no, it’s alright,” your mother assures you. She approaches you, cupping your face in her hands so that you can only see her pitiful smile. She kisses your cheek. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with my ranting.”

And you promised to stop breathing down my neck so much. “I might be home late,” you tell her, “once I submit the chapter, my editor and I are going out to dinner.”

“You’ll have a much better dinner than I,” she jokes, though there’s a lack of humour in her eyes, “your father is entertaining Lord Pantalone tonight.”

You raise your brow. “Didn’t they meet up like two nights ago?”

“I don’t know anymore,” your mother replies, exasperated, “I feel like every other night I have to have that man in my home.”

You laugh. “Better him than the Doctor, right?”

“Oh don’t even joke about that,” your mother says.

You shrug your shoulders in response. You turn to your bed again, reaching down to secure your briefcase’s latches so your draft doesn’t spill out again. Once it’s closed up tight, you grasp the handle and lift it up off the bed. Your mother gives you another kiss on the cheek as you say goodbye, that you’ll probably be back once the Regrator’s left the estate. She wishes you luck, and lets you leave your room.

—

“Anyways, all this to say it couldn’t have been a more textbook example of fraud, like the exact scenario I would have brought up during an interview to test what a new teller would do in that hypothetical situation,” Pantalone recounts, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Your father, sat in a chair across from Pantalone, chuckles as one of the maids fills up his second glass of wine. The flames of the fireplace reflect off the crystal clear glass. “Really? It was that obvious?”

“Really!” Pantalone laughs. “I admit, I actually had to look around at the rest of the tellers and the people in line, because I needed to know if I was the only one who was seeing this, or if I was being pranked. It was that bad. The teller who brought this to my attention, she was fully convinced I had sent them in as some sort of test to see if they were all conducting transactions properly.”

“That’s the sort of thing that would get your ass kicked,” your father remarks, taking a sip of his now full glass. 

“I would phrase that less crudely, but yes, very much. Rest assured, they were swiftly removed from the premises and banned from all current establishments.”

Your dad whistles. “Y’see, this is why I knew us working together was such a good idea,” he says, “because you know how to handle trouble, and you make sure your employees know how to handle it too.”

Pantalone nods. “I believe that in order for us to truly take control of the money we use in our everyday lives, you must ensure the people handling your money know what they’re doing. Archons? Well, they don’t need mora, so they don’t really care where it goes or how it’s used or whose hands it falls into. We need to keep track of it all, because we can’t just will it into existence.”

“It’s why I’m proud of my children,” your father says, taking a noticeably larger sip of his wine. “They’re all hard workers. My eldest girl, she’s been working with me since she was a teen, she’ll inherit the business when I retire. My oldest boy’s a doctor, saves lives everyday and goes home to his wife and children. My second daughter, she’s a lawyer, ah what’s it called… I forget the name, but she does workplace accidents and whatnot, makes sure people are compensated for their injuries. My youngest girl is studying medicine at the Akademiya, wants to be like her big brother.”

Pantalone nods along to the man’s tipsy rambling, but pauses once he does the math. He recalls a conversation he had with you on a previous visit, and gives your father a perplexed smile. “What of your other son?”

“Hm?”

“Your son. The writer. The one who’s going blind?”

“You’ve met him, I don’t need to tell you anymore about him.”

Pantalone leans forward in his chair. “I’m just curious why you didn’t mention him as one of the children you’re proud of.”

“I am proud of him,” your father states, a noticeable slur in his voice. “I just…he’s different, y’know? He’s not like his siblings. He can’t do surgeries or lawyer things, he just sits in his study and types on that typewriter all day.”

“Hasn’t he been writing professionally for quite some time now?”

“They barely pay the boy! At least I don’t think they pay him much. Not enough for him to move out like his other siblings did.”

Pantalone opens his mouth to further question to rambling man, but both men jump when the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut echoes from the floor above. It causes the host to spill his drink in his lap.

Pantalone catches a glimpse of your mother passing by the living room’s doorway, and calls out to her. She hesitates, but enters the room. The look of despondence on her face catches her husband’s attention, while the briefcase in her hands catches Pantalone’s.

“The hell was that?” he asks.

Your mother looks like she’s on the verge of tears when she speaks. “Our son’s out of a job.”

“What?”

“The publisher,” she says, “s-something about budget cuts? They said they c-can’t afford to publish his next book. He’s still new compared to the other writers they work with, so they’re only publishing the stories they know will make money. They don’t want to risk it with him, a-and…” She puts down the suitcase, and she wipes the tears from her eyes. “It’s not fair, h-he’s worked so hard and this is how they repay him?!”

Pantalone frowns. “The publishing industry is a harsh one,” he comments.

“Yes, he should be used to it by now,” your father comments.

“Like you have any idea about how his career works!” your mother suddenly snaps. “I don’t see you going to his book signings!”

Your father glares at her. “I’m sorry, but one of us has to work so the other one can stay home all day!”

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, stepping towards and towering above her husband. “This is not about us, okay, this is about your son! He’s spent so long honing his craft and they just tossed him aside!”

“It’s not that hard to write something! I could be a writer too if I spent all day poking a typewriter! I’d write something actually worth reading.”

“His writing is lovely!”

“‘Course you like it, he writes prissy girly books! What sort of man writes books like that?”

I haven’t told my family I like men yet.

With the shouting from both your parents, your shame laced words echo in Pantalone’s head. If it only takes a glass and a half for your father to blurt that out, it’s no wonder why you two can’t seem to see eye to eye, why you’re ashamed of what you write. Even if he didn’t find you an interesting character, to hear a man talk about his son in this way disgusts him. This is not what Pantalone looks for in his business partners, and he sponsors Dottore.

The two adults stop screaming at each other like children when Pantalone stands up, silently commanding their attention. He gives them both a hard look, your father especially, chastising their behaviour with a mere look. Your mother wipes away angry tears and takes a deep breath, while your father just looks at the ground. Quietly, your mother apologizes and excuses herself for the night.

Your father hardly moves, swirling his glass of wine. He does not lift his head when Pantalone bids him goodnight and goodbye. As such, he does not see Pantalone reach down and grasp the briefcase’s handle.

The halls are empty, silent save for the sounds of Pantalone’s footsteps. When he returns home, he will have to reconsider his affiliation with your father, perhaps after he views the contents of this briefcase. If he had to guess, this is what you were working on the night you made your second first impression on him, or maybe the chapter after that one. 

It isn’t working out with your father, so perhaps it will work out better with you?

[uptondixon]

Daryl & Daugther!Reader - Quarry Era II

Had this in my drafts for ages. I started writing and never finished, but I decided to post anyway. Thank you for all the love on Part 1! I'm sorry I'm not much of a writer to keep this storyline going :( Words: 1591 Warnings: Nightmares Gif not mine Chapter song is Fix You by Coldplay

Part I

"And the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can't replace."

It's been a while since the three of them started the walk back to camp, which was proving to be especially hard for the girl. After the adrenaline went off, the pain on her feet and legs were becoming almost unbearable. With each step she got slower and felt weaker. A headache making its way over her head, probably a mix of pain, hunger and lack of sleep.

Before heading back to camp Daryl offered her water, which she accepted desperately. Even though she was happy the thirst was over, her growling stomach didn't let her forget the days without anything to eat. She didn't mention that, already thankful for the water. However, the girl's skinny body gave Daryl an idea of how hungry she must be.

Daryl and Merle didn't hunt anything, both too focused on the deer, so he made a mental note to feed her as soon as they got to camp. Daryl also tried to take a better look at her wounds, but she didn't let him. He didn't push and decided this was a job for Lori or Carol. They were the mothers of the group and the girl would feel safe with them, he thought.

"She's slowing us down man, if we don't speed up we're going to lose sunlight. This girl is like a damn walker bait. Hell, I can smell her blood from here." Merle complained again.

"I get it Merle! Stop whining alrigh?" Daryl said before approaching the kid. 

She had been trailing behind them the whole time, never sparing them a glance and looking almost ready to bolt in the opposite direction at any moment. All of a sudden, Daryl realized that they didn't know her name.

"What's yer name kid?" She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Y/n." She said, voice almost a whisper.

"Alrigh', Y/n. Look, someone has to check yer wounds and for that we need to get to the camp but ya can barely walk…" Y/n knew he was right. She was scared to let him do anything with her wounds, afraid it would make it hurt even more. But the girl knew that it would only get worse if they didn't get there faster.

"What if I carry ya?" Daryl proposed. "We'll get to the folks faster and everything's gonna be okay." Daryl looked at her expectantly, while Merle was still mumbling some nonsense he chose to again ignore.

Y/n pounded for a moment. She didn't know this guy, even though he seemed to be making an effort to at least make her feel less scared. The same couldn't be said about the other guy, his brother. Even with Daryl's effort, she wasn't sure if trusting him was the right decision. However, it's not like she had any other choice at the moment.

Y/n looked up at Daryl and nodded her head. He handed his crossbow to Merle and picked the girl up. She felt so light and Daryl couldn't help but wonder how long she was alone out there, without food and water.

Y/n wrapped one of her arms around Daryl's neck, looking for something to hold on to. It was weird, how she didn't even know this man but felt safe in his arms. After being alone for months, she really wanted to believe someone good was going to help her.

Daryl arranged the girl in his arms and resumed their walking, Merle leading the way with Daryl's crossbow, aware of any danger.

They arrived at the camp a couple hours later and Daryl came in calling for the first person he saw, which in that case was Lori. "Daryl, oh my god??? Who is that?"

Daryl immediately felt Y/n's arms wrap harder around him. "It's fine kid, don't worry."

"We found her in the woods, alone and hurt."

Minutes later, the whole camp was reunited outside the RV while Lori and Carol were inside with Y/n. The girl felt more at ease with them, like Daryl imagined. But she was still unsure about everything and everyone.

After they treated her wounds and helped her clean up, Daryl brought some of the squirrel from his last hunt along with more food from the camp. Being clean and fed, it was like Y/n could finally think straight again.

Yours later, everyone started to retreat to their tents for the night. Inside the RV, Y/n tried to stay awake, her brain still on alert for some reason. But after a while her body started to give up and she fell asleep to the sounds of the dying conversation outside.

“It will be okay my baby, just run and don’t look back, okay?”

“But mom, what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you, go!” The little girl ran, but she couldn't help looking back. However, when she did, it made sense why her mother told her not to.

Screams, that’s what Daryl woke up to. He jumped out of his tent and saw Shane, Glenn and Dale outside the RV. “What the hell happened?”

“It 's Y/n.” Shane said “Lori is-” As if on cue, Lori leaves the RV. And to everyone's surprise, she smiled at Daryl.

“She’s asking for you, Daryl.” Daryl looked at Lori as if she had grown another head but entered the RV anyway.

“Hey kid, what's up?” Y/n was sitting in bed, death grip on the blanket and scared look on her face.

“I miss my mom” Daryl didn't know what to say, he didn't understand why she would want him there of all people. “Could you stay here until I fall back asleep?”

To be honest, Y/n didn't want to sleep, not if that meant another nightmare, but her body didn't give her any choice. Daryl saved her, his presence made her feel safe, so maybe he could help the bad dreams go away. Daryl was still confused, but he simply sat down in the chair close to the door and nodded his head, watching as the girl laid down, closing her eyes and falling asleep once again.

The first week went by smoothly, Y/n couldn't think about anything other than sleep. Her body begging for rest in order to heal. She didn't talk much, still overwhelmed with the new environment and everything that happened, but slowly feeling more at ease with everyone. Amy was the one to bring her food the days she stayed in bed. Lori or Carol would brush her long hair after she washed up. Glenn and Dale would make her laugh with silly jokes. Andrea and Jacqui would help change her bandages. Daryl would always check on her at the end of the day. He didn't say much, only put his head inside the RV, saw her asleep and then went to his tent.

The second week was better, she was stronger and more active. However, the nightmares still hunted her at night. Since Y/n got in the camp, Carl and Sophia were anxious to talk with her. But she was weak and scared so the adults held them back. When she started feeling better, spending her days sitting in the staircase of the RV and watching the camp, Carl approached her. With everything that happened Y/n didn't really had the time to think about the other kids at camp. She knew Sophia was Carol's daugther and Carl was Lori's, but they never talked and she suddently felt nervous. It's been ages since she last talked with someone her age.

"Hi, I'm Carl. You're Y/n, right?"

"Yeah.." Y/n smiled awkwardly.

"Shane's going to teach me how to grab frogs, you wanna come too?"

Y/n apreciated the invitation but she couldn't help but ask "Why would you want to grab frogs?"

Carl seemed like he wasn't expecting the question but answered anyway "Well, it's just funny, they jump so high trying to run away" he said with a little laugh "But we release them right after, Shane says they probably taste really bad to eat."

Y/n was the one ot laugh this time, for sure she wouldn't want to eat a frog.

"Okay, it seems fun" Y/n said looking at the boy in front of her.

"Yes! It's going to be really fun, I'll tell Shane you're coming" Y/n laughed again seeing the boy excitement, she couldn't help but feel it too. After the last stressful weeks, it was good to have some distraction.

Y/n met Sophia a couple nights after her frong hunt with Carl and Shane. The camp was having dinner and since she started feeling better, she started to have dinner outside with the others. The first night she went straight to Daryl, he and Merle sitting around a fire further from the main camp. In the short time Y/n was there she could notice how they differed from the rest of the camp. Her, as well, felt unsure, not of Daryl but his brother. The first night she left the RV and went to Daryl, Merle looked at her they same way he looked at her back in the woods. Like she was an walker bait. Daryl didn't showed much affection towards her, at least not in clear eyes. But he silently made sure she was fed and safe every single day, most of the others from the camp would not notice most of the time, but he did and Y/n knew it.

Taglist: @justmare

[bad268]

Seven

Breaking News (Part 3)

(Max Verstappen X Reader, Charles Leclerc X Ex! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope (I had an idea, Mr. Krabs)

Chapter warnings: cheating mentioned, sex references, song referenced belongs to Natiale Jane.

Pronouns: They/them

W.C. 1672

Chapter Summary: "Seven" is released during the race week, and Y/n sees Charles for the first time since their split.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

(^Came from 2 pics on Pinterest)

<- Previous Part

It’s been months since I last saw Charles. It was not really a concern for me anymore. He can do whatever he wants, and I can do whatever I want. And what I want is to attend the race in Austin.

It was Wednesday, and we just flew in a couple of hours ago. We settled into our hotel room before Max went into the bathroom to shower before we went to dinner. Once I was dressed in a semi-fancy outfit, I decided to sit on our bed and wait for him to finish up. I had started scrolling through countless comments on my newest single, “Seven,” when Max came out of the restroom. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans, but at least it wasn’t Red Bull merch. 

“What are you looking at?” He asked, coming up to look at the comments from over my shoulder. “Is that the new song?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled lightly, leaning back into him. “They’re loving it so far.”

“Well, of course, they are,” he retorted, standing up and pushing me to lay on my back as he leaned over me. He placed a couple of small kisses around my face before placing a final one on my nose. “You wrote it. Why wouldn't they love it?”

“It was just really different from my normal songs, I don’t know,” I sighed, setting my phone to the side as I wrapped my arms around his neck and played with the ends of his damp hair. “It’s also the second single for the album.”

“You haven’t even finished the album yet,” He shook his head with a laugh. “They’re your fans, liefde (love). They’ll love anything from you.”

“Doesn’t make the release any less daunting, schat (darling),” I whispered, pulling him down to kiss him. We moved in sync before ultimately needing to pull apart for air. “You ready to go?”

“Of course,” He said, lifting himself up before holding his hand out for me to stand beside him. “What kind of food are you feeling?”

~

Thursday is media day, so Max was off doing his own thing. It works because I had a virtual interview anyway, so I was able to hide out in Red Bull hospitality to do the interview in peace. 

“Y/n L/n, your newest song, ‘Seven,’ is smashing the charts,” They started off, “Tell us about the story behind it.”

“Honestly, I think everyone knows the story behind it,” I chuckled. “I wanted to try something new, so I continued the fuel from my last relationship to make this song. I’ve never really done something like this, but I really liked it, and I think the fans do too.”

“They certainly do!” The interviewer reassured. “The story, the beat, everything is just so catchy! It’s an amazing song! What was your favorite part about writing this song?”

“The lyrics were really fun, and I got a little help from my new boyfriend for the melody,” I admitted. The interviewer’s eyes widened as they let out a gasp, and I just smiled wider. “He was actually the one that came up with the chorus beat.”

“Did he write any of the lyrics?” They asked quickly.

“No, he left that to me. He just listened to every draft,” I laughed as I remembered something. “About a month ago, I woke him up at like two in the morning on a race day because I had a dream about the lyrics. He loved it so much, it’s now the chorus. He also was not very happy that I woke him up that day. He had to be on track at like five, and I woke him up just before his alarm.”

“That is gold,” They laughed as well. “We have some fan questions if you don’t mind. One person asks what is your favorite lyric from the song?”

“Not a lyric, but the laugh before the first chorus,” I answered after a second of thinking about it. “While recording the gap between the first verse and chorus was missing something. I tested with more lyrics, but ultimately, the laugh sounded the best.”

“The laugh does make it better,” The interviewer agreed. “Next question, has your ex or his girlfriend reached out, regarding the songs you’ve released recently?”

“No, but there was an article that announced their relationship right after I released ‘Ava’ and she stole lyrics from a fan cover as her original caption,” I remembered. “I was tagged in a fan cover of ‘Ava’ where they portrayed Ava. It was actually amazing, and I loved it! They did an amazing job, and one of the verses was ‘if he’s your man, why’s he still in my bed.’ I, personally, find it funny, but everyone likes to paint it like there’s bad blood between us,” I explained, going off on a short tangent. “Sorry, but to answer the main question, no, they have not said anything to me specifically.”

“Do you wish they did? I mean, these two very popular songs of yours are centered around them, so do you wish that they acknowledged them?”

“They did, technically,” I replied. “The fact that they announced their relationship right after I released the song and used a fan cover of my song to jab at me kinda validates that they know about it. Plus, it’s funny that his teammate loved both songs. He’s told me that he blasts them in their garage all the time.”

“Well, that’s all the time we have today,” They wrapped up, satisfied with the answer. “Thank you for your time, and we’ll look forward to the full album.”

“Thank you,” I replied with a smile as I left the call. I let out a sigh as I leaned back in my chair, laying my head back and closing my eyes to rebuild my social battery. 

“What album?” A voice asked from across the room. It was a voice I have not heard for month, causing me to immediately shoot my head up. 

“What do you mean, ‘what album?’ I’m a songwriter, Charles,” I snapped. “Did you forget that’s my job?”

“No, just,” He took a breath, trying to recollect his thoughts. He hesitates for a second as if he didn’t want to say what he was thinking before just spilling, “Is the whole album about the breakup? Are you that caught up on it?”

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, moving to stand up and approach him. “I haven't written it yet. Might be, the fans seem to love this era. So what if it is? What are you gonna say?”

“This is defamation,” He seethed, coming up to stand chest-to-chest with me. “I could sue you for both songs.”

“I don’t name you in either of them,” I scoffed. “Ava is a basic name. I could mean anyone named Ava, not just your girlfriend. Even in interviews, I won’t answer questions if they mention your names, and my answers are always vague. You have no grounds to sue me for my success. You just want to rain on my parade. I’m climbing in popularity, and you’re not. Admit it.”

“You’re only getting popular because you’re fucking Max,” Charles replied bluntly. Behind him, I could see a door opening, but I couldn't see who it was.

“Oh, please. If anything, I get hate for fucking Max,” I laughed. “At least I’m getting satisfied. With the way you’re acting, I’d say it's been at least a month since you got laid.”

“You’re one to talk,” He tried to start before I cut him off.

“Not like it’s any of my business what you do with your girlfriend,” I said with a sly smile. “On a side note, what are you doing in here? Ferraris aren’t allowed in Red Bull hospitality, last time I checked.”

“Yeah, Charles, you should head back to your own hospitality,” Christian pressed as he was the one to walk through the door with Carlos, Max, and Daniel, who was holding Max back.

“You’ll hear from my lawyer,” Charles spat toward me before turning and walking out the doors. I just rolled my eyes and bit my tongue before I made the situation worse.

“Did I hear an album?” Carlos asks sheepishly.

“I will send a signed copy to my biggest fan once I get it written,” I teased him as Christian and Daniel ushered him out to follow his teammate. Carlos shouted back a thanks before taking off. I shook my head with a small laugh as I walked up to Max who had calmed down since Charles left. “Thank you for mentally killing a man in my honor.”

“Always,” he joked back, “I’d do anything for you. Was he serious about suing?”

“I don’t know, but it’s just going to waste his money cause I worked with my publicist to make sure they couldn’t sue for defamation,” I reassured him, cupping his cheeks and leaning our heads together as he placed his hands at my waist. “Y’know, in case you didn’t know, I love you.”

“I have loved you since we were 18,” He whispered back. My eyes widened as I took in his words.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I gasped out.

“It was before we both thought the same things,” he chuckled. “Your music was taking off, and I was still a rookie. I remember you said that you wanted to wait until you were in a stable place in your career before you started a relationship.”

“I was like 12 when I said that!” I laughed, shocked that he actually remembered that. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I always knew I would end up with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He jokingly took offense as he tightened his hold around my waist.

“I told all of my friends and family I would date you at some point,” I admitted lowly. He immediately began beaming at my confession. “No one believed me, but now…oh, if they saw us now.”

~~~

Next Part ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[blue--ingenue]

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 6

Read the next part

Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: *shakes this chapter like a jar of dog biscuits* besties, i'm so sorry for the little hiatus, but as usually summer college classes were kicking my ass 🫠 my last finals are tomorrow, and then i need to speedrun packing for my dorm etc.... i also really wanted to do this chapter justice, so it was written and rewritten at least five times before i decided on the final draft. anyway, back to our (ir)regularly scheduled Slytherin himbo

The second he loses sight of her in the swarm of students he really starts to panic. He starts pushing his way through the crowd toward the last spot he saw her, but it’s by far easier said than done. Imelda calls out for him to come back for the usual post-game debrief, but he shouts an excuse over his shoulder about going to the hospital wing. She could be anywhere, and he’s wasting precious time. Sebastian doesn’t think he was nearly this panicked when he plummeted toward the ground mere minutes ago. He stops, exasperated, and surveys the crowd. 

Fuck it. 

He hastily mounts his broom and yanks the handle upward. Hard. It’s possibly the fastest he’s ever taken off and the crowd beneath him cheers as he shoots upward and forward. As soon as he clears the quidditch pitch he’s scanning the grounds for a trace of her homemade quidditch jersey. The thought of her putting so much time and effort into the garment, all in support of him, forces a fresh stab of guilt between his ribs. His broom seems to sense his urgency and accelerates on its own. God, he’s such an ass. She’s never been anything short of kind to him, far kinder than he probably deserves, and he’s spent the last few days thinking nothing but the worst of her. No, he realizes with a jolt, not even the worst. 

He’s been seething over the thought of her enjoying Weasley’s company. Merely being happy in his presence. Nothing malicious or untoward or even anything to do with him. Every new realization pricks him with equal measures of mortification and hope. How was he going to explain his recent actions without revealing his true feelings to her? He had no idea. At this point his one-track mind was focussed purely on finding her. He’d figure out the rest once he was sure no more tears adorned her face. Is this the type of bloke he was? So jealous that he’d rather cause pain than face it? He considers asking Anne for advice on the whole situation, but he already knows what his better half would say: “Just tell her how you feel.”

He shakes the thought from his head. Impossible. He couldn’t face the possibility of losing her if she felt the same way. And if she did? What if he wasn’t good enough for her? After all the pain he’d caused her in fifth year, and now this, what if she was better off with someone like Weasley? She deserves someone who will treat her heart with care. Someone who won’t coerce her into risking her life for dark magic. Although Sebastian had been true to his word about relinquishing dark magic, the guilt of his actions remained. Sometimes, on particularly dark nights, he’d wake to the sound of her wails and pleas as her body convulsed next to the remains of Noctua Gaunt, his hand would shake as he channeled the pain directly into her veins. Other nights he’d grip the sheets in a cold sweat, his body safe in bed, but his mind bound to the darkest parts of him he’d worked to repress. He could still feel the phantom rush of power as he held the relic. His blood sang with power as the resurrected dead moved to his every whim. And there, at the center of it all, her. 

Terrified, resolute, courageous. Even as inferi clawed at her arms and Solomon appeared at the mouth of the cave, red with rage, she was still trying to save him. In his darkest of moments he wonders if he’d ever deserved saving at all. If she hadn’t knocked him unconscious, and if Anne’s curse hadn’t lifted as soon as Rookwood was destroyed, Sebastian knew he could’ve done a lot more damage. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her. And oh, did he want her. She was radiant, inside and out. Even if she wasn’t the most beautiful witch he’d ever beheld, her heart and mind would enchant him all the same. She was always so quick to help others, so fearless in her every endeavor, it was a wonder she had any love left to give. She never failed to surprise him. She made him want to be a better man. She saw every flaw in his character, ran a gentle hand along every faultline in his heart and mended it with a selflessness rarer than the ancient magic gracing her person. 

Sometimes he wanted to grab hold of her, tender yet so very sincere, and remind her that she needed to save herself, too. He wouldn’t insult her intelligence by suggesting that she was ignorant of her own needs. But one time, just one time, he wished she would put her well being above others’. 

There was one question still nagging at the bag of his mind, a thread he had neither the time nor heart to unravel at the time. Why had she been so upset by his kissing Amelia? Was she perhaps still angry at him for ignoring her this morning? Why else would she - 

Oh, hell. 

It was impossible, no more than a pipe dream, but did she share his feelings? Why else would she have run away? He wanted more than anything to believe it, but what if he was wrong? He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he confessed his feelings and she didn’t feel the same, he could lose her. But if she did, she could lose herself. He knew from experience that she’d go to hell and back just to fetch him, but she shouldn’t have to. Despite his best efforts he’d found numerous ways to hurt her in the past year. She didn’t deserve him. She deserved better. And if she wouldn’t make that choice herself, well, he’d just have to make it for her. 

Sebastian was so lost in his thoughts he nearly missed the flash of green beneath him. Cursing himself, he circled back to her and flew lower. It was unmistakably her. His last name billowed as she walked quickly toward the castle. He descended rapidly, calling out her name and begging her to wait. She turned and their gazes connected. Even if she was angry with him he felt a glimmer of hope that at least he had a chance to fix things. He was so focussed on her, he didn’t realize he was about to fly right into a tree until she shouted a warning, but it was too late to stop. Branches whipped at his face, stinging as he plowed through the tree before his broom lodged between two trunks and he was thrown forward. He managed to latch onto the branch, narrowly avoiding a swift trip to the ground twenty feet below. For the second time that day the air was forced from his bruised lungs and he fought the urge to vomit. Despite the pain and mortification, Sebastian couldn’t help but feel that this was at least partially deserved. He heard creaking as the branches to his left shifted and he watched his broom plummet to the ground. Well, the handle landed first, and the brush followed a moment later. Great, he thought. Imelda was sure to give him an earful about this. 

A brighter spot of green obscured the remains of his broom, and she looked up at him. He could almost hear a crack shooting through his heart as he took in her appearance. Her tears had smeared the green and silver paint almost completely off her cheeks. Her eyes were red-rimmed and every sniffle sent her shoulders trembling. At this moment he would have let go and fallen to the ground immediately if it meant he could wipe the tears from her face. Did he even deserve to? What right did he have to cause her grief and then swoop in like some undeserving savior?

She wordlessly raised her hands and reached out as though to pluck him from the branches. Blue light arced from her hands as she channeled her ancient magic. Sebastian felt himself being gently extricated from the twigs and leaves before those same gentle blue tendrils lowered him to the grass before her. 

The pair stood still. The intensity of her gaze rivaled his, but neither took a step forward. The air felt heavy with implications, things still left unsaid. Say something! A voice screamed in his head. You made this whole bloody mess, so say something!

He took two steps toward her, and said, “I’m sorry.”

She made no move toward him, and if not for the near-imperceptible softening of her brow he might’ve thought she hadn’t heard him. “For what?”

The determined search of her gaze told him everything. They both knew what she was really asking. She was waiting for him to voice his feelings. To lay claim to every bit of stolen affection threaded through the moments they shared. He had to tell her. He needed to tell her, she deserved that much. He opened his mouth to speak and - 

“I like you!” he shouted. She startled at his panicked outburst and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. She looked at him, calculating and wary, before taking a step back. “Sebastian, you don’t have to say that simply because you feel guilty about-” he gave a frustrated groan and closed the distance between them in two determined strides. He frantically took her hands in his, held them gently, and whispered the truth he’d been so desperate to hide from. 

“That isn’t why. Please, you must know that isn’t why,” he pleaded. A stray tear remained on the apple of her cheek and he brushed it away with a tender swipe of his hand. He let his touch linger for a moment before drifting back to clasp her hands. “You occupy my every waking moment. Even in sleep I cannot escape the thought of you. Nor would I ever want to,” he declared. Her eyes searched for any hint of insincerity, but she didn’t pull away from him. Sebastian took that as a sign of encouragement and continued.  

“You are unlike any witch or wizard I have ever met. Kinder and braver than any soul I’ll ever meet, and my heart is irrevocably yours. You needn’t say anything, but know that it belongs to you. I’ve been a prick to you. I was selfish and scared and jealous, and I’m sorry for kissing Amelia. I won’t insult you by asking for forgiveness I know I don’t deserve, but you must know that I am yours, even if you want nothing to do with me.“

He finishes, breathless, and watches her. His brain is on fire and he’s pretty sure he’s run through the entire spectrum of human emotion in the last thirty seconds, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give her time to process everything he’s just thrown at her. He waits, and waits, and his palms begin to sweat. Shit. Was this the wrong time? Had he just royally fucked up whatever remained of their friendship? His gaze flicked up to her face, which had remained stoic beneath her runny makeup and the volley of emotion he had just flung at her. An agonizingly slow moment later she looked at him, really looked, as though for the first time, and she was livid.

There was fire in her eyes and blue magic arced from her fingertips. He took an instinctive step back as she leveled him with a stare rivaling the intensity of his own jackrabbiting heart. She swallowed thickly, and spoke.

“And how long,” she started, cocking her head. “How long have you felt this way?” He gulped. Was she going to hex him? Sebastian was sure he deserved it six ways to Sunday, but he would’ve at least liked more of a reaction to his confession before she blasted him to hell. 

“Since fifth year?” he squeaked. He actually squeaked. Good gods, this was mortifying. He thanked whoever was listening that at the very least Ominis wasn’t here to witness the whole ordeal. He answered like it was a question, when really this one of the only truths he knew in the core of his being to be true.

She took a step toward him, her mouth agape and eyes narrowed in confusion. Hysterically, he thought it was the same look she adopted when Professor Binns roused her from her nap to answer a question during lecture. He gulped. 

“Why on earth haven’t you said anything?!” she shrieked. He furrowed his brows and took a step closer to her. If she was going to immolate him, fine. For her he’d burn a thousand times. 

“Because I know you don’t feel the same!” He shouted frantically. “You don’t! You can’t, and you shouldn’t! I’ve been awful to you, and you deserve better!”

She held her face in her hands, exasperated and inhaling deeply, before throwing her hands up and shouting to the heavens, “Of course I feel the same!” She cried. “Merlin’s bloody balls, how thick can you get?!”

He stilled. He’s pretty sure his heart had stopped beating around the same time the air in his lungs froze over. “What?”

At his single syllable all the anger seemed to seep from her figure. She crossed her arms, the blue lightning dissipating as her chest heaved. When she spoke she was gentle, careful.

“Sebastian, did you truly not know?” Her eyes were pleading, searching his for answers he wasn’t sure he could provide.

He spluttered. She couldn’t feel the same. She didn’t…”You’ve never given any inclination. And I didn’t want to do anything untoward or unwanted…” he trailed off.

She laughed. Not a cruel, mocking sound like he probably deserved, but chiding. It wasn’t unlike the chuckles he heard from her when one of her puffskeins tried licking her when she wasn’t looking. 

“Sebastian bloody Sallow, I’ve been in love with you from the start. I don’t know how you could possibly think I don’t care for you, but please, banish the thought.” She declared softly. He suddenly realized how close they’d drifted. The red thread connecting his heart to hers always had a way of drawing them together. He looked down and she was nearly flush against his chest. Instinctively he drew his arms around her. Something sharp poked his chest and he brushed it aside. It was the necklace he’d given her. Within the gilded confines the stone glowed a deep, confident blue. A memory sparked somewhere in the back of his mind as he recalled the parchment the vendor had given him. Blue - truth.

He dropped the pendant as though it had burned him. She was telling the truth. She loved him, truly and completely, and he loved her the same. Everything he wanted was within his grasp, if only…If only he were someone more deserving. If only he were someone who could keep her safe and care for her in the ways she deserved. He looked down and her eyes were drifting closed. Just before they fluttered shut her gaze flickered to his lips. That’s funny, when had he started dipping his head toward her? His composure faltered - and good gods, no man could be strong enough for such temptation-

But he needed to be. Sebastian Sallow might not be the man she deserves, but he would be a man strong enough to keep her from making the mistake of choosing him. His eyes shot open and he pressed a gently finger to her lips. “Wait,” he whispered. She stilled and stopped. Gods, her lips were soft beneath his touch. And the way she was looking at him, with such open vulnerability, twisted the dagger he held to his own heart. She was confused, waiting for him to say something.

He released her and took a step back. And then another, and another. “We can’t. You can’t feel this way for me. I’ll only hurt you again, and you deserve better.” He broke her gaze hung his head. “So much better…”

When he looked up at her again, he almost wished he hadn’t. The tears were back, and this time her lip was trembling. He strode toward her, holding out his arms in comfort, but she held up a hand. It was trembling, and blue lightning crackled across her palm, but her voice was steady as she spoke. 

“Nobody makes my decisions for me. Nobody. You can tell me that you love me, or hate me, or anything in between. But you don’t get to stand there and tell me how I am meant to feel. If you don’t want me, then just say so. I deserve that much.”

Sebastian was truly and utterly speechless. He did want her, more than anything, but he couldn’t trust himself to keep her from harm on his behalf. He couldn’t draw her back into his arms knowing that he didn’t deserve her, but telling her that he didn’t want her? That would surely kill him. So he stood, silent, and said nothing at all.

As the seconds drew on, she seemed to take his lack of response as an answer all the same. She nodded her head once before stalking past him back to the castle, and he got one good look at the pendant as her shoulders shook with sobs. Black - anguish.

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Bonus Author's Note: besties, no matter how much you love someone, never let anyone make your decisions for you or tell you how you feel. you are irreplacable and nobody has the right to save you for later <3

Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @milk-barrs-blog, @somethingiswrongwithme, @bleh-stupid, @stay-gray, @mrsbrookesallow, @lostgirl-28, @kateisnotheree, @doigettokeepyou, @dreamqueenkala, @uwuitzerimpact, @neoqueen306

[soupzardous]

i would love a detalied lore drop on are they smarter than a first grader :3 i genuinely adore all these characters youve written i would gladly take any brain vomit like just screenshots of you and ur friend brainrotting i would eat it alllll up!! just anything honestly

I’m not even gonna lie I did not deliver at all. But what I will give you is that I know for sure that Quackity had like been super anxious for the sleep over. As usual Wilbur was late. Literally not shocking. But basically I hadnot planned much for that chapter I had lots of ideas tho. I did want to have them maybe build a pillow fort in Slimes room cuz I thought that would be silly and also cuz Quackity would’ve lost his marbles. I also think I intended on writing a moment that chapter where Quackity wants to read Fundy and Slime a bed time story since it was routine but Fundy doesn’t know how to react and Slime shoos Quackity away because Fundy can just read to him. Quackity would’ve gone back to the living room grumbling and prob would’ve poured himself a glass of wine cuz he can’t handle not being in charge of things.

Since him and Wilbur were fighting before hand (from what I remember) I wanted it to be sort of tense and awkward. I know in the previous chapter, Slime had green marker on his face and that was how i planned on getting them to start talking. Wilbur would’ve also been drinking wine and all that jazz. However, the plan was for Wilbur to suggest to Quackity that he get Slime some tattoo markers so Slime can draw on himself without it becoming a problem, and that was gonna lead into them being fucking weird or whatever. I really hardcore believed that atstafg!Quackity had a trampstamp (there is concept art and everything). Anyways, back then i did actually write out all the dialogue as kind of a bare bones draft, so I’ll just insert that screen shot here:

Then they probably were freaks and kissed. And this time no one interrupted them for realzies.

The next morning was gonna go one of two ways.

1. Quackity was gonna wake up and realize it was almost 8:30 am (he usually woke up around 5) an get worried that the kids hadn’t eaten. In this scenario he didn’t even remember the whole thing with Wilbur because he is more worried abt the kids. He would’ve winded up walking into the living area and seeing that Wilbur was in his bath robe due to being the one who’d woken Wilbur up, and Wilbur had to find something to put on because he wanted to let Quackity keep sleeping (he knew Quackity was sleep deprived)

2. They would’ve woken up at the same time and kind of opted to ignore what had happened. Wilbur wouldn’t have been able to find his glasses and he probably would’ve said something along the lines of “Well it isn’t my fault you probably recklessly put them somewhere. If they’re broken you’re paying for it.” And they would’ve bickered before Wilbur rolled his eyes and said he didn’t need them that bad and they would’ve headed into the kitchen.

Either way, they would’ve wound up finding Slime and Fundy at the kitchen table with some books that him and Fundy were reading together. Once again, I had this vaguely written in old dms i sent so I’ll just insert those here

I did initially want Quackity to do that thing he does where he was more focused on being a parent than how he was feeling, so he was gonna be too busy with trying to schedule Slime an optometrist appointment to worry about whatever happened with Wilbur. However, Wilbur is not trying to leave in a rush cause he would rather be uncomfortable around Quackity while Fundy had fun than back at his apartment with Phil there. Eventually, when Quackity gets off the phone Wilbur finally asks why Quackity isn’t bringing up what happened, and Quackity woudlve been all like “because I have a life to live I can’t just pause everytime there is a minor accident. You just have to keep doing what you have to do, so sorry if I don’t wanna get into all that” and Wilbur would’ve been offended but not willing to walk away. He does wind up giving up the fight and saying he was gonna stay a little bit longer but just because Fundy was having a fun time. he probably says something about how he’s only staying because he’s not as bad of a parent as Quackity thinks. because truly, they never get past that.

By the way Quackity does blame himself heavily for not even thinking that Slime might have really bad eye sight and just trying to force slime to read when he couldn’t see very well to be begin with. I know a lot of people did theorize that he had dyslexia or was truly just never taught to read, but it was more so due to a lack of proper caregivers in his infant and toddler years and shockingly bad eyesight for being a six year old.

Quackity tries to get Wilbur to go home by telling Slime his friend was gonna have to go home so that he could take Slime to the eye doctor, but Slime tells Quackity “you can’t take me to an eye doctor. Your eyes are healthy. Can Fundy’s dad go instead his eyes aren’t healthy so he would be better” (thats really ooc forgive me please). Anyways, Quackity is a sucker for anything Slime wants especially since his feels really guilty in the moment. So he does say yes.

I have a much more detailed version of the whole glasses debacle, if you want that, but tbh I do not expect this post to be something anyone is actively waiting for anymore. Once again my bad for waiting so long. There were a lot of little things I hc abt Wilbur and his childhood that related to glasses that would’ve served as a bonding type of moment nd i believe i have all of that written down somewhere in my discord dms.

Anyways. I am kind of struggling to remember it all, but I did plan on Quackity and Wilbur trying to keep things professional for a chapter after that, as they were nearing the class Christmas party i believe. Maybe I don’t remember my own fics current time line but it’s fine it’s so chill. But basically when they do set up and help run the class Christmas party since they are co room moms. One of the activities is making a little handmade ornament. It’s meant to be like a gift the kids make to bring home to their parents. However, during the party Slime winds up giving his to Wilbur instead of Quackity. Quackity is not happy about this to say the least, especially since him and wilbur aren’t on the best of terms. Quackity expected Wilbur to shove it in Quackitys face and brag about winning, but instead he just awkwardly tried to give it to Quackity because he felt really bad about the fact that it happened. Quackity refuses to accept it and just kind of keeps to himself the whole time.

When the class party ends, Nikki thanks the two for how much they did and for collaborating. She mentions that Slime had been talking about how Wilbur and Quackity had a sleepover with him and Fundy all week in their morning circle, and to top it off, there had even been a day or two where Fundy talked during the morning circle too. As Quackity and Wilbur leave the school, Wilbur attempts to check in on Quackity. usually Quackity was more vocal of what was bothering him.

When he asks what’s wrong Quackity just kinda quietly says something about how it isn’t fair that Slime likes Wilbur more than him.

Wilbur goes “thats not true. he hardly knows me”

And Quackity just says that he wouldn’t get it. And it is heavily related to the fact that Quackity has tried super hard to avoid letting anyone into his life because he didn’t wanna bring someone into Slimes life that would stick around for a while but inevitably leave. After a bit of back and forth Wilbur probably mentions something like “I dont get it. You act like I’m going anywhere. You act like you aren’t incredibly aware that I can’t leave if I want to. If either of us are the type to run away, it’s you, Quackity. You always say it’s what’s best for Slime, but I don’t know if theres a single selfless reason why you act the way you do. I know I’m selfish, but I never asked to be in this situation. And I’m not saying you did. But for someone who always looks so miserable, you sure have no problem pushing me away. I may not have been the best friend you could have, but it’s not like you have any others. Our kids are friends, and I wont let this be the reason they can’t hang out anymore. But you have a lot of nerve pretending we don’t know too much about each other. I thought we would’ve worked out just fine together. I liked you, Quackity. And maybe I’m just an idiot, but feel like you might have liked me too”

Quackity tells him he doesn’t get it, and Wilbur decides to count his losses and drive home.

The next chapter I planned on having Wilbur being up late at night. School has gone on break and it is Christmas Eve now. For the first time in years Wilbur had actually put out a small decorative tree. He wasn’t sure why, neither him nor fundy were very enthusiastic about holidays. Fundy was in bed and Phil was sleeping too. He winds up getting out some craft supplies that he had left over from a while back, and makes his own version of a shitty ornament. In all honesty it isn’t that much better than the one Slime had made. He puts it in a bag along with a cheap botttle of wine he bought the day before. A part of him wanted to write “to replace the last of the things I took from you” on the card, but he settled on writing “merry Christmas, hope you like it” despite how much he wanted to say. The next morning after Fundy opens his gifts, he asks if Fundy wants to go have a play date with Slime, and Fundy says yes because he wants to tell Slime about the cool books he got.

The goal was for Wilbur to give Quackity the gift and for Quackity to attempt to act indifferent/frustrated but eventually crumble cuz he was really upset with himself. I did at the time plan on just figuring out this part when i got there, however it was gonna be kinda mushy with like them finally talking about it. I prob would’ve done some fuckass mistletoe cliche or something. I also thought it would’ve been funny to have Slime and Fundy see it and try and turn their Christmas Chinese takeout dinner into a surprise date to set their parents up. I don’t really know.

It is a little funny cuz i actually really dont like Christmas but it was going to become a Christmas fic due to pacing.

The epilogue would’ve been a fast forward to Wilbur and Quackity roughly 8 months later being fluffy and silly while coparenting and getting both Slime and Fundy ready for school. I wasn’t sure whether they’d be living together or not at that point, but either way it wasn’t like they wouldn’t have sleep overs pretty often. I thought it would be kinda silly if like Wilbur was helping get the kids ready so Quackity could get an extra hour of sleep since Wilbur usually was working until after Quackity had already picked up the kids from school. There would be some days where Quackity packed the kids lunches and some where they got to buy it at school. Some days Quackity would worry about what the kids were gonna wear and others Wilbur just let them pick whatever they wanted. Essentially just illustrating the balance that would be achieved after they got together with both families benefiting from the best of both worlds. Wilbur would’ve learned to be a more involved and responsible parent and Quackity would’ve learned to not micro manage every little thing that happened. And from that point on they both became co room moms until Fundy and Slime got sick of their parents wanting to be involved with every school function

I have more things i saved in case y’all want anymore!! So just let me know and i will actually get back to you in a timely manner I promise this time !!! Hope this all made sense it has been so long since I talked abt atstafg

[peiskos-and-apricity]

Fated to Fall ~ Sindri x Reader [PT 6]

Tw: Canon Typical Violence

A/n: This chapter is poorly edited due to my current lack of a computer, so sorry if it's a little wonky! I just wanted to put this out for you guys since it's been so long. I might fix it in the future. Anyway, enjoy!

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-

The first few moments of your walk were held in complete silence. Not that you didn't feel like talking and, judging by the way he kept glancing at you, not for a lack of his wanting either. But more so out of a hard time to find anything to ask or say in the first place. So it was quiet as you walked through the Yggdrasil and stepped into the frozen wasteland of Midguard.

The cold immediately whipped against any exposed skin as you two trudged through the deep snow towards the cabin, a bitterness you don't think you'll ever grow to love. You quickly opened the door, shoving away the bit of snow that had piled even in your short time away. As you stepped in your eyes were immideatly drawn to the holes in the roof, the draft making them quite obvious. You sneered a little at your inability to escape the cold. You hoped Niðavellir would be warmer.

It was only a second after walking in that you realized you were alone. Turning around you saw Sindri waiting just outside the door, shivering in the freezing cold. Confusion passed your face for a moment before you spoke.

"You can come in. It's too cold to sit in the wind" you called. Even at the invitation he seemed unsure. Yet soon enough he got over his hesitation, be that because of cold or obligation at your invitation you didn't know. Either way he entered, his eyes immediately scanning the place. You turned to busy yourself with grabbing your things.

"Would you mind if I stoked a fire?" He asked, hands rubbing together in hopes to fight away the endless cold. You shook your head.

"Not at all" you allowed. Even if you two would be here a short time you felt that, given his mortality and your shared half of it, you would both probably need it.

You went collecting what you came for; starting with a corner so untouched it had collected dust. You were sure it would have collected webs as well, if the cold hadn't fought the insects away. In it was a variety of small items stored away once, never to be touched again. Old armor pieces and salvaged bits of broken arrows. But past them and the layers more of other rusted and useless pieces, you finally spotted what you were searching for. Pulling it away from the cluttered mess you had made while retrieving it, you opened the old box. Inside laid a greyed cloth that, once you dusted it off, revealed the white fur beneath. You stood with it in hand, the cloth still reaching the floor as you did.

It had been long since you had worn the fur, the surge of sealing magic felt beneath your finger tips. You took a deep breath before placing it over top your layer of worn clothing, making sure to face away from the dwarf to hide the slight shine it emitted once you did so. Immediately the inner seams glew a deep black, a slight sizzling hitting your skin through your clothes with a quiet grimace.

You turned from this always unpleasant experience to see the dwarf had the fire lit and had taken a seat beside it; his attention now engulfed with something near him. You figured it was nothing and went to grab some of your carving tools now that you were able to place your bag back over your shoulder.

"May I ask you something?" Sindri's voice spoke, gaining your attention quickly in the silence and causing you to glance at him again. But his eyes were still transfixed on whatever he had found, so you went back to your own task while you answered.

"You just did" you responded lightheartedly, the words almost natural in the way they slipped your tongue, like they had hundreds of times before. A silly joke, a stupid one really. But it reminded you of better times.

He, however, was thoroughly confused by it, his eyes glancing with his nose slightly scrunched. Luckily it seemed to click a moment later, though he struggled for a response anyway. You let out a half-hearted laugh, a little amused by his expressive features.

"Yes you may" you calmed his minor panic as you reached for an old bow, one clearly worn over years of no upkeep and lack of use. It wasn't the quality you would prefer but it would have to do. Hopefully it would hold better then the other.

"I was wondering how you had come to meet them?- Kratos and Atreus I mean. I didn't know they knew much of anyone else in these realms. Anyone close, anyway" he questioned. For a brief moment your body froze, the question bitter as it reached your ears. It was a short pause that you fixed the moment you noticed it, but a pause nonetheless. One you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"If you feel like saying, of course!" and it seems he did. That or he was impatient. You wished you could convince yourself it was the later of the two.

"We have history. They were close with someone I once knew" you finally spoke, your throat tightening slightly. You knew the answer wasn't what he was looking for.

"Oh..." Was all he could say. There was a question he held back on his tongue, you knew it. But you didn't dare to pull it from him. You preferred to move on.

"May I ask you a question?" You turned to him and his eyes finally caught yours.

"Of course" he answered. He seemed to have little to hide which made you a little more comfortable.

"What were you looking at?" You watched as his eyes widened slightly before he held up what he had picked up from the ground.

In his hand was a warped and strange piece of wood. It was slightly singed to a charcoal black on the left side of it, most of it's features left to ash while the other was cracked and splintered. It hardly held the detail it once had.

"This is...yours?" He asked. Your eyes focused on the small carved wood, a little bit confused as to why he even had it.

"Yes?" Your tone asked him his point and he looked perplexed himself.

"It was in the fire" he reiterated, as if you couldn't see the blackened side of it. You pulled your quiver over your shoulder once more before walking to where he was.

"I can see that" you answered as you began to pull small items from the floor, placing them in your bag. Mostly dried meats and the rare herb that grew in this now desolate land.

"Did you put it in the fire?" He asked, his tone strange in that it seemed shocked.

"Yes" You answered, your attention mostly on finding where in the freezing Hel Atreus had placed your extra set of arrows. That was until a nearly choked sound rang out, your eyes immediately snapping to him

"But the craftsmanship! How could you just throw it away?" He seemed almost offended and given the way he stared you might have even believed you had actually upset him...or perhaps you did believe so. Either way you chose to speak carefully.

"They are wood and it is cold. There's no reason to keep them. They'd just take up needed space" you tried to explain it the best you could, which is to say the way the Kratos always explained it. It had convinced you after all and you were sure he had much better things to be worrying about then some half-singed waste of time...

Right?

Unfortunate for you, it seemed he was anything but convinced. In fact, he might have even been more offended by your explanation.

"But the time this must have taken. It truly doesn't mean anything to you? You don't have any keepsakes?" He was growing increasingly frustrated with you and it was obvious. You didn't really know what you could say that would calm this strange stance he's decided to take, but you figured you might as well indulge him. The last thing you wanted to do was upset someone your brother would call a close friend. If nothing else you can at least say you tried.

"I have no issue making you a new one, if you are so bothered by it" you hoped that your offer would suffice. You didn't have much else to answer him with.

You watched as his indignation melted immediately and replaced itself with eye-widening surprise. He sputtered on his words, somehow baffled that you would offer exactly what he was complaining you ruined.

"Well you don't need to!" He finally managed a sentence.

"Unless you wish you" you mumbled afterword. Despite how quickly this change in demeanor came, or maybe even because of it's speed, you couldn't help the short laugh that left you at his nervous and flip-flopping behavior. On top of that, you managed to find your extra arrows. So you were feeling much better.

"I'd be happy to" your tone was light; amused even. He took your words with a wobbly and crooked smile before standing.

"Well..." He started, looking through the hole in the roof towards where the sun sat in the sky.

"We should really get moving" he suggested before hesitantly turning back. You gave a nod

"Probably" you agreed and he quickly began to walk towards the door. You went to follow, standing from beside the fire when a glint caught your eye. You quickly locked onto the objects, your face silently wincing at the sight.

On the table sat two rings. One made of metal; it's design crossing at the side with the front side flat and a hagalaz letter engraved on to it. The other was a ring made of an unknown wood with a metal streak held in the middle throughout the ring. Engraved on the inside was the word 'light'.

They taunted you as they laid there, the shine of the snow from the now open door turning them colder shades. Their intended purpose burned a sort of distain you never could quite place. Because even though their effect was everything you sought, it somehow felt so innately wrong whenever you had used them. As if they were not built for your hands, for your blood. Yet they were. They were finely crafted and tuned to you by beings you had never known and given to you by the mother you had always believed to want you safe-

"Are you coming?" Sindri's voice quickly caught your attention as your head swiveled to him, his head peaking in from the door.

"Yes, I-...feel like I've forgotten something" you answered, your voice as natural as it had been moments ago.

"Oh. Well whatever it is we can get it later. We're going to be late" he accepted your answer before waving for you to follow as he left once more. You gave another nod before, with the most reluctance, you took the rings into your satchel pocket and followed him into the Yggdrasil.

Another bout of silence ensued, though it felt much more peaceful than before. Or, at least, more comfortable now that the two of you weren't complete strangers. Soon enough you two were walking back out of the ethereal purple scenery and into the warmer but similarly silent place of Niðavellir.

Looking around you saw many buildings, the city sprawling for longer than you could guess. Despite that, and it being the middle of the day, there wasn't a sound to be heard.

"Welcome to Niðavellir!" He exclaimed as he gestured around what you would wager to be his former home. He began to walk and you decided it best to stay beside him. You continued to look around the seemingly abandoned place as you did.

"It's been a while" you spoke, Sindri turning to you with a curious glint.

"You've been here before?" His stare was expectant of an answer.

"Yes. Many winters ago" you answered plainly and to the point. You were somehow unsurprised to find him unsatisfied by it.

"I can assume you were looking to make something? Us dwarfs are known for our superior craftsmanship" He pried further but you were used to it after spending so long with Mimir. Though you supposed the situation was at least a little different, given that you felt a little more inclined to speak with the golden-plated dwarf than your father's confidant.

"My mother brought me. I was young then, Atreus' age I think. We had been looking for someone to make me a...a ring. It didn't work out though" you caught yourself a bit at the end, realizing your sudden slip of the tongue. Hel, the only reason his brother knew was by pure accident. How had you let yourself grow so comfortable?

"It must have been an important ring then, to come all this way" his tone made you uneasy as he spoke. It was a question in disguise, yet you knew you wouldn't be telling him any more than you already had.

"I don't remember it being so quiet" you quickly changed the topic as your eyes continued to look for any sign of life. He finally turned away from you, focusing back on the path.

"I would wager a guess that our companions have already made their way to the city. And, knowing Kratos, they didn't look for a quiet way in" you felt a bit of dread build within you at his words. You had hoped they hadn't attracted too much unwanted attention. Though at this point you probably should have expected it.

Soon the two of you stopped at a small workshop in a corner of the city. After which Sindri got to work setting up shop and you, having nothing better to do, took a seat.

The air was thick here, almost suffocating. Clouds of smoke billowed in a direction but that hardly caught your attention among the other wonders of the city. It had changed quite a lot since your younger years, though it had to be the silence that unnerved you the most.

You tried to distract yourself by sharpening and cleaning your axe while you waited but that only helped for a while. It wasn't long before you turned back to Sindri, your curiosity caught when you notice that he worked with strange magic. Despite not wanting to bother him too much, you figured he wouldn't mind a few questions. After all, you were sure he must too be unsettled by the silence here.

"What are you working on?" You asked with minor caution. His eyes flickered to you before turning back to his work, a green glow showing from the string he held.

"It's a project of mine. I've been looking into the structural sensitivity of sonic vibrations" he explained, placing the string down gently, as if he'd break it if he dropped it too suddenly. When he caught a glance of your utterly lost features, he gave a second shot at explaining it.

"I'm trying to find a way to use sonic vibrations to create a larger scale of destruction to certain sensitive materials" he reiterated and though it wasn't all that different from his initial explanation, you gave it your best shot at understanding him.

"Oh? So...a sound explosion?" his head tilted from side to side to imply that you were almost correct.

"A bit reductive, but sort of. More of an implosion if anything...Or at least that's the theory" he spoke before moving around his little shop, searching for something.

"You haven't tested it yet?" You asked, your intrigue now much more clear. The question seemed to gain his attention as he paused his movements to fully look at you once more.

"No. No I have. It's been rather...temperamental, to say the least. Working with new magic isn't exactly easy. I'm sure I have it down, but I'm not all that tempted to try it out again after the uh...last incident" he spoke with a more grave tone towards the end. You nod along, finding this to be quite interesting. At least more interesting than sitting in silence as you waited. In fact his words sprouted an idea in your head, one that would hopefully help you pass the time better than weapon maintenance.

"I can test it out, if you'd like" you inquired. The idea gave him pause as he seemed to maul it over a moment.

"Well, I had planned on doing it myself but...if you think you can handle it" he spoke skeptically which, you had to admit, was a bit amusing. It had been too long since you'd met someone who didn't know what you were. It was almost refreshing to have the expectations so low.

"I think I'll handle just fine" your small smile broke which seemed to wean away his previous hesitation. Confidence begets confidence after all.

"Your bow then" he outstretched his hand and you pulled the bow from your back and handed it to him. He began an attempt to take off the right string which you had to say was a little funny to watch. Even more so when you realized he very much wasn't going to ask for any help. But you bit your tongue well enough.

"Do you...need some help?" You spoke up gently, your voice stopping him for a moment.

What you hadn't expected was for him to look at you as if he'd seen some higher being descend upon him. Relief and thanks spread across his face as if you had asked to help him carry the weight on his shoulders. You were a little bewildered by it, the expression one you hadn't ever seen so blatantly on anyone before.

"Yes, yes, that would be great" he accepted with complete gratitude. So you placed you axe down and grabbed the bow. With only a bit of resistance you were able to hold it down for him and he didn't hesitate to take the string off, replacing it with the new one soon after. Once he did he stepped back and your grip loosened. A second passed before you gently picked it up once more, as if any sudden movement might irritate it. Turning it over in your hands showed that it seemed stable enough.

"Doesn't look too dangerous so far" you explained. He gave a cautious nod.

"Yes. However it might be smart for you to test it away from the workshop" he suggested and you quickly agreed. You stood before taking a good few steps away from the shop. When you felt you were a sufficient distance away you raised the bow carefully, as if to aim it, but didn't pull on the string. You instead gave one last look to Sindri who you noticed had ducked under his workbench. However his head quickly popped back up, clearly looking like he had forgotten something.

"Oh and uh- when you shoot! Just say the word, skjálfa!" he ducked back under the bench as you gave a nod.

Turning back to the bow with quite a bit of hesitance now, you brought your hand to the bow string. You watched the string hum with a bit of green light at your fingertips, the power of it evident. Knowing there was no avoiding the inevitable, and that an injury you might receive could be healed quick enough, you finally plucked the string and...

No explosion. Nothing more than a faint flicker of more green magic. You hummed in cautious delight before plucking an arrow from your quiver, swiftly pulling back the string as the glow reappeared. You aimed the arrow in a random direction before Sindri's voice called again.

"The gate! Aim for the gate! Where the green ore is!" He yelled to you, your aim quickly fixated on the target. When you were sure your aim was true you released.

"Skjálfa!" You yelled, watching as it quickly left your hand with a resonating thump of energy before flying into the metal. No familiar clink was heard as instead the metal compacted in on itself, crinkling like paper before falling with a small thud.

"It worked-!"

You didn't get to celebrate long, a skittering sound meeting your ears followed by a loud billow as you realized you must have disturbed a swarm of wretches. Only a glance showed a grim not far behind.

You quickly sprung into action as a group of the tiny creatures charged for you like overgrown bugs. You began to quickly step back as you pulled an arrow from your quiver just in time for one of them to jump at you, impaling itself on the arrow with only a bit of force on your part. That didn't seem to deter the other six as they then all came jumping at you in a thing reminiscent of skin crawling nightmares. You managed to dodge, shoot and stab without so much as a bite when-

"Look out!" Sindri yelled, your body dodging a disgusting green acid-like spit ball flown in your direction before you even really fully registered his words. Afterward your eyes flicked in his direction as he, to your surprise, was throwing an assortment of strange things at the grim that had just tried to boil you in bile. You were almost impressed, surprised to see the dwarf standing his own.

At least until he caught the attention of said grim who, unsurprising, begin to run at him.

"Ah!" You turned and sprinted towards him the moment he yelled and in doing so allowing a wretch to jump and latch on your arm. You hardly felt it as the grim lunged over the bench and at Sindri who had tried continuing an assault of whatever strange things he could pull from his endless bag from behind said bench. However the creature was only successful in knocking him to the ground as you pulled the grim near out of the air, wrapping your bow around its neck and pulling it. The creature yelled in anger and pained fury as you hopped onto it's back to tighten your grip. It clawed at you, ripping your pants a little, before-

Snap

There went your second bow, the creature escaping your grip and throwing you off of it. You hit the ground with a thump and just barely rolled out of the way of it's hands. You were thankful when a slight glance showed your ax now beside you. Without hesitation you reached for it.

You felt fury dare to grip at your throat again, that horrible feeling of thickened blood sinking in once more. However, unlike before when it had shown in glowing eyes that blurred your vision or in the golden flakes that surrounded the movement of your hands, it instead showed in the form of just pure burning. The fur held on you was anything but a comfort now, as it began to sear.

Knowing you didn't have much time before it would truly begin to burn, and driven fully by the panic of that thought, you swiftly grabbed the ax and moved to your feet. With the pumping of your adrenaline you let out a yell before lunging at the creature with as heavy a swing you could manage. You found relief when it's head hit the ground, it's body following shortly after.

Silence fell, a few deep breaths cooling the heat of your skin and the beating of your heart. A feeling so strange for such a common encounter. You hadn't had such a loose grip on it in so long, its signs usually showing only when your blood boiled over in messy golden ichor. But it seemed that over fimbulwinter your grip must have grown weaker. That or it somehow grew stronger in the inhospitable environment.

It wasn't long after you calmed that you registered the wretch that had yet to let go of your arm. You carefully unhooked it's jaw from you before throwing it onto the ground, a heavy stomp killing the pesky thing. You were confident by then that there were no more, though you glanced around just to be sure.

It was then that you met the wide-eyed state of Sindri, his elbows propping him up on the ground he had not stood from quite yet.

"Are you hurt?" You asked as you approached. He remained silent for a moment too long and you began to grow concerned, quickening your pace. Once you stood above him you looked him over, relived to see no bloody injuries.

"Sindri?" You called and, suddenly, the man sprung back to live. He blinked rapidly, adjusting himself into a seated position as he looked over his arms and legs, searching for an injury but thankfully seeing none.

"I'm fine- fine! I'm fine! It's...It's just been a while since I've been attacked like that!" He almost yelled through a nervous laugh, clearly shaken up by the ordeal.

"Well lucky you" you reached down, pulling the dwarf to his feet in an attempt the break his adrenaline. Unfortunately it did quite the opposite as he instead just stared at where you touched him on his arm with what you could only describe as poorly contained disgust.

"Oh, sorry. It slipped my mind" you apologized, pulling your hand very quickly back to your body.

"It's...fine" it was clearly not fine and he hid it poorly. Especially as he turned to the bag on his hip, digging around for a moment before pulling out some sort of cloth and wiping down the armor you had touched. You found the sight a little amusing, considering he had gone up to his shoulders digging through the bag, but you kept that thought to yourself. Instead you quickly went and retrieved the string of your now broken bow before placing it back on the bench with a simple nod from the dwarf. Silence returned for a few rather long moments after, an opportunity you took to get right back to cleaning your now grim covered blade. Then, right when you thought the silence might settle fully, he spoke again.

"Thank you" your eyes turned to him at the suddenly sincere tone in his voice. You questioned if he was joking, as most people who thanked you often were, but his seriousness didn't falter even in the way his eyes stared.

"For keeping that...thing off of me, I mean" You couldn't help the ever so slight smile that pulled at your lips or the slight swell of being acknowledged that grew in your chest.

"Well thank you for not letting me be melted by disgusting acidic mucus" you returned the thanks, his look twisting into one half amused and half horrified.

"Of course" he answered, his tone once again matching his face. You held back a snicker at it.

It was then that voices all too familiar began to echo in the near distance.

|Next Chapter|

[mayajadewrites]

For Me (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

CHAPTER SEVEN: COLLEAGUES

Over the next 2 weeks you spend a lot of time with Levi. You learn his routine, what he likes to order at restaurants, all that good stuff. However, neither of you have spent the night at each others house. For you, you knew that it would be hard to control yourself if you were in bed with Levi. 

Levi enjoys the finer things in life, but not in a stuck-up way. He loves a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, but also doesn't mind staying in and having a movie night. He works a lot, which makes it so you only see him really at night and on the weekends. It gives you something to look forward to, but it doesn't feel like enough time. 

It's Wednesday - half way through the week. Since you and Levi have decided what you're relationship is (more like Levi decided) you haven't gone to the coffee shop much. He's been bringing you coffee before he heads to work, which is a sweet treat for you. 

This day is no different.

You hear a knock at your door and open it to see your stoic boyfriend holding your iced coffee and a bouquet of flowers. "You needed fresh ones." He walked into your apartment and took out the old flowers (from last week), cleaned the vase and set up the new bouquet. 

You sip your coffee as you watch Levi work the flowers. He meticulously places them and makes sure every flower is tended to. Your eyes wander down his body - he's wearing a navy suit that is perfectly tailored to him with chestnut shoes. "You look very handsome today."

"I have a big meeting today with some potential clients." Levi double checked the flowers. "These are good to go. I'm gonna head out now." 

"Have a great day." You smile as Levi takes a step towards you, his eyes swallowing your figure. You're wearing a tank top with no bra, and your comfy short shorts. Your ass basically falls out of them.

"Don't go outside like that." Levi presses his lips to yours, bringing his hand to your face. "This is for me only." 

"Okay dad." You roll your eyes, walking him to the door.

"Daddy is the only acceptable form of 'dad' that I'll answer to." His tone was flat, so you couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

He had to be, right?

"I'll call you when I'm on my lunch." Levi kissed your cheek swiftly before turning around and heading towards the stairs. You lean against your doorframe, still feeling Levi's kiss on your lips. This is really your life. Levi Ackerman is your boyfriend.

You're about halfway through your new novel at this point. You got in touch with your editor to let her know that you'll be sending a draft her way soon. This excites you - it's been months since you had any motivation to write. 

As you finish typing a sentence, you feel your phone vibrate in your lap. 

"Hello?" You tap the 'speaker' button.

"Why do you always answer the phone like you don't have caller id?" Levi said.

"Because that's just what people do. Sorry we're not all special specimens like you."

"Anyway. Our clients loved us, and the office wants to go out to happy hour to celebrate after work."

"Okay! Have fun. Are you coming over after?"

"You're coming with me. And then we're going home together."

"I missed the part where you asked me if I wanted to go."

"I didn't ask. Be ready by 6." Levi hung up the phone. Sometimes he can be so sweet, but other times it's like he forgets that he has other people to communicate with and we all don't think the way he does.

You sigh, shutting your laptop and pushing it towards the back of your desk. You turn your head to your closet, knowing you'll be tearing it up to find an outfit. You look at the time on your phone: 1:30PM. It's time to start getting ready.

You take an everything shower, making sure there's no hair anywhere on your legs. You moisturize your skin, wash your hair, everything.

This is the first time you're meeting anyone in Levi's circle. Even though he says they're his "colleagues" you know that that's his way of saying friends. You blow dry and curl your hair, watching the curls bounce before you brush them out into loose waves. Your makeup is simply but glowy - your go to.

Your outfit consists of a beige square neck body suit with straight leg jeans that are slightly distressed. You pick out a pair of beige heels to match - they're not too high to where you're uncomfortable but you'll be at Levi's height now. 

By the time you're done with everything, it's 5:45. You decide to pick up a bit around your apartment and spray your favorite vanilla perfume. 

Right at 6, there's a knock at your door. 

"What did I do to deserve seeing Levi Ackerman at my front door twice in one day?" You tilt your head to the side, smiling. 

Levi's eyes wandered to your chest, which was accentuated by the neckline of the bodysuit. You have a bigger chest, which you typically hide. You watched Levi's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "You look beautiful, per usual. Do you have everything? A bag for stuff you'll need for tonight?"

"Wait, why would I need that?"

"Because you're staying at my house tonight."

"Staying as in..."

"Sleeping over. You're sleeping at my house tonight. With me."

"I didn't know." You bit down on your bottom lip. "Ok, give me a few minutes. Sit down." You turn to grab a tote bag out of your closet and grab your essentials. Toothbrush, makeup remover, a change of clothes, a pair of UGG slippers, pajamas, and body wash. "Done." You hold up the bag with a smile plastered on your face. 

Levi nods as he takes the bag from you, turning off the light in your foyer. You lock the door behind you and triple check that its actually locked before you both descend down the stairs.

"So where's happy hour?" You ask as you watch Levi's hands on the steering wheel. 

"It's at this bar downtown that everyone likes to go to. I don't go out much, so I've only been there once when I got my promotion." 

You nod as he explains, gazing out the window. You feel Levi's large hand land on your thigh, squeezing it gently. "They're going to love you." 

"I hope so." It's like he knew exactly what you were feeling. That you were anxious to meet the people that are around him every day because they could think you're not good enough for him. They could have seen ex girlfriends that were prettier than you. Levi rubbed his thumb across your thigh for reassurance.

Levi helped you out of his car before leading you into the building, which was half bar, half restaurant. 

"Levi! You made it!" You look up and see a group of people with drinks in your hand. The one that called for Levi was one of the guys that was with Jean when he asked for your number.

"I'm still Mr. Ackerman outside of work." Levi squeezes your hand gently. "This is my girlfriend." Levi introduces you.

"So you're the reason he smiles!" A brunette woman with glasses walks up to you. "My name is Hange. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"Likewise!" You shake her hand, smiling. 

"This is Erwin, my best friend and President of Ackerman Inc." Levi points to a tall blonde man with piercing blue eyes.

"Nice to meet you. Levi has told me a lot about you." Erwin shakes your hand.

"Not a lot. Don't listen to him." Levi rolls his eyes, introducing you to the rest of his colleagues. "This is my cousin, Mikasa. The one I was telling you about that loves your books. And this is her boyfriend, Eren." 

Eren was the one that Levi said to call him Mr. Ackerman. You smile as you meet the couple, noticing the similarities between Levi and Mikasa. They're both very poised and serious at all times.

Levi leaves you for a few moments to mingle. Mikasa grabs your arm gently to get your attention.

"I know my cousin can be an ass." She smiles. "But he really cares about you. He's talked about you and has even cracked a smile while doing so." 

"Thanks, Mikasa. I appreciate that. He's not the easiest to deal with." You laugh, glancing over at Levi. He's standing with Erwin and Hange as he waits for drinks at the bar. He doesn't bother asking you what you want to order, since it's always a white wine. 

Your nerves calm down a bit when Levi's fingers graze yours to hand you your glass. "You okay? Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, Levi." You take a sip of your wine. "Your friends are nice. I like them."

"Colleagues."

[johnslittlespoon]

Omg the new tas chapter was amazing!!! Im lit so obsessed its so well written ughhhh

Also i was just wondering if u are considering continuing the “you’re a dog im your man” fic? Absolutely NO PRESSURE AT ALL and i read and love everything write so i hope this doesn’t come across as demanding. I was just wondering cause i was rereading that fic today haha. Anyways hope u have a great day ❤️❤️

HI okay! first of all thank you SOOO so much omg :')) <3 i promise it doesn't come across as demanding at alllll, i really am so grateful for how chill 99% of anons have been in my inbox 😭💗 and i hope you have a great day too!!

this might be a little long–winded bc i don't think i've made a proper post about this (i might've and just forgot lol my bad), but you're a dog (i'm your man) has not been abandoned, i promise!! <3

i know it's been stupid long since the last chapter, like four–ish months atp? at first i just got very swept up in tough and sweet (clearly lol), but then when i sat down to start yadiym chapter seven, i just could Not get something i was happy with. it's not even writer's block, because i know exactly what is going to happen in every chapter, can see it play it out in my head like a movie and all, but everything i put down on the page just wasn't doing the vision i had in my head justice. :/

i think i've rewritten and scrapped ch7 three or four times now lol and it sucksss. i care so so much about this fic, it's really what got me to fall back in love with writing and it means a lot to me, so it makes me even more picky about making it as good as it can possibly be. my tentative goal is to put out a new chapter before the new year... december is gonna be pretty busy hence the 'tentative,' but i'd be really really happy if i could get something into a doc that i'm happy with by then. :')

chapter seven is currently a completely blank doc and i haven't touched it since the last scrap lol, but i've been pouring over the whole drafting doc the past month to get my brain back into dog coded mode and i do feel hopeful that this next attempt will be something i feel better about <3 who knows, maybe i will be able to hop on here on christmas and be like 🤲🏻 merry christmas here's ch7 🤲🏻

that's the dream anyway :-) again gotta say thank u to anyone who's still stayed interested in this story and has been so very patient and chill with me, i'm so thankful and it really is motivating/kicking my ass into gear to know that anyone's actually still waiting for an update!! insane to meeee <333

[nczaversnick]

WIP Questionnaire Tag

Thanks to @honeybewrites for the tag!

Rules: Answer the questions about a WIP!

These are for Project Gemini, with my answers in green and Rachelles in purple :)8

What's the first part of your WIP that you created?

For me, that would be Gemini. Or his concept anyway. A person with both fire and ice powers. Everything else was built around this one idea.

Uhh.. There aren't any parts I necessarily *created*, but more like added on. I've been here since the beginning. (We don't talk about the previous draft before I came into the picture) (Also, SIKE, I LIED. I created loveable Mason.)

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I'm not sure what I would go with, but off the very top of my head, I’d say the chorus in From Now On in the The Greatest Showman

Oooo, definitely Run by Iron Kid

What are your favorite characters you've made? Why?

Oh, definitely Adrian. He was originally the main character, so I developed his character way before I got to anyone else. He's the only one who didn't get replaced when I revamped everything a few years back.

I'm Adrian biased always, but I think I'm starting to have a bit of a soft spot for Mason and Iris - mainly because I don't know them that well, and that's a perfect start for me falling in love with them.

What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

Definitely the Lunar Chronicles. Probably Arc of a Scythe, too. Both series showed me how much I can do with multiple POVs to tell a story, but both are about revolutions and fighting for what is right

I don't think I understand this question

I hope they share sick animatics. That would be cool as Hell.

How do characters travel/get around?

Generally speaking, magneticlly powered trains and cars are the main transportation in the city

OH SHIT an underground rat maze in the sewers throughout the city would be sick af.

They mainly walk. Gotta keep hidden, ya know?

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I am currently trying to turn an outline into actual scenes. But I don't write like…whole chapters. I tend to write small snippets in random spots until there's enough to start trying to connect them

I'm constantly fluctuating between fixing what I've already worked on and continuing off from when someone gets their shit rocked for no reason (there's a reason, but it's a dumb reason)

What aspects/tropes do you think will draw your audience in?

I mean, who wouldn't love a dystopian lead by a found family of queer people?

Injustice and angsty slow burns.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

I have always wanted to publish this. Because I do actually want to be a published author, I enjoy writing and sharing stories with people, especially one so personal to me. A very longshot hope I have is that I'd love to see this made into a tv show, though I'd go 2D animation, not live action.

I obviously want to make something I'm proud of working on, but also use as a learning experience for my own projects. (I'm an entirely separate entity and *not* a growth from N.C.‘s brain)

Tagging: @wyked-ao3 @the-golden-comet @fractured-shield @theverumproject @the-letterbox-archives @ath3alin +open tag :)8

[ladysomething]

Hello there lovely human 💛

I’m kind of going around my favorite writers and ask them for advice and insights about their process (so I can collect it all like a hoarder). I hope you mind sharing some wisdom with us 🥺

So what I just don't understand is how you can post as you write while maintaining this level of awesomeness in your writing. Without writing yourself into a corner and keeping consistency. And it is awesome, the first time I read "You and me, we got a big reputation" I stayed up till 4 in the morning to finish it and it left me full of emotion and hollow at the same time (the same way as when you finish a great TV show or a good book or an awesome video game leaves you feeling, like something beautiful just ended and you can never experience it again. The kind of hollow that leaves you wondering what to do with your life now, that your world has changed, where your chest is empty and full at same time).

Anyway, how do you approach your ideas? Do you have the whole fic plotted out before sitting down for the first chapter? Do you write in order? Does it always go the way you plotted it in the beginning? How long did it take you to plot out "Where you go I go"? Or "You and me, we got a big reputation"?

Anything you want to share about your process would be appreciated 💛

I'm trying to put into words my first actually long fic ever and I know it will be better if I post it after it is all finished, but it is also easier to keep up the momentum if you have readers on your side.

hi!!!

firstly, thank you for the love on big reputations. I'm coming up on a year since I posted the first one shot in the don't blame me series, and I'm feeling some type of way about that.

secondly ... man oh man. I'm gonna go question by question here, but I'm gonna put it below the cut because I know I'm gonna ramble.

well the first thing is that I'm not posting as a write, not really. I'm three chapters ahead, which for me is what I need to make sure I don't write myself into a corner. I'm far enough ahead that I can keep control of the narrative. some people like be further ahead, others don't need to be ahead at all, but that's about the appropriate distance for me, I've found.

it depends on the fic! wygig is pretty much entirely plotted out, yeah. big reputations was not. I had a general idea about where it started, how it was ending, and what I wanted to happen in the middle, but specific scenes weren't planned - not like wygig. GMTF I had specific scenes in my head that I wanted to write, but more I had specific emotions I was trying to capture, and I built the plot around that. in my original manuscript, I had the three acts planned out, the main plot points per act, and then felt it out as I went (which ended up meaning I had a serious pacing problem that is still unresolved, hence why it's still sitting in my drafts lmao). so yeah, it depends on the story.

I write in order these days, but I didn't used to. I've just found that, for me, writing in order means that it forces me to keep writing, because I HAVE to go through all the boring scenes to get to the fun scenes. I use it as motivation, but that doesn't work for everyone! it certainly means that sometimes, by the time I get to the fun scene, I've forgotten what I had planned for it, so I have to build it all up again lmao.

no it doesn't always go the way I plotted! characters often do things I hadn't planned for them to do - sometimes good, sometimes bad. I've been going very rogue recently with wygig, as @saiyanwitcher can attest to. she's had to reel me back in quite a lot recently haha.

oh god, it took @saiyanwitcher and I probably .. I'd say we worked on plotting wygig for a solid month before I started writing - BUT the major caveat here is that I was writing the brocedes fic while we were plotting it out. so I refused to start writing wygig until I finished that, which meant we spent more time on plotting than I usually would. and then we revisit plot points as I get closer to writing them - see what can be kept, what needs to be deleted, what needs to be changed to fit the rogue elements I've inevitably introduced lmao

as I said, I didn't really plot big reputations out like I did with wygig, so that didn't really take any time at all! haha

as advice for putting together your first long fic ... what I'll say is this. I've been writing for almost 15 years at this point. I didn't even realise that I was coming up with a way to write that works best for me until I'd already done it.

I realised I needed people to give feedback as I go. I need to have written a lot in advance, before I start posting anything, so that I know I can finish it under my own steam and that my interest will continue. I need to listen to my mind when I get bored, and take a few days break from writing - but I can't go more than a week without touching a fic, otherwise I won't go back.

they're all things you'll learn along the way!

I also think you should try not to compare yourself to others. if you try to match what other people are doing, you'll never finish, because you'll end up disappointed in one way or another. it's easier said than done, for sure, but if it's your first, give yourself some slack and take everything as a learning experience!

and remember, above all else, to write for yourself. if your always writing for yourself, writing what YOU want to see, the motivation is easier to find.

[springsteenicious]

Pieces of a Harmony

part one of my draft clean out is chapter one of a fic I abandoned called Pieces of a Harmony! don't know why I called it that!

The original idea for this was to be a band AU. If anyone remembers when I was toying around with a fic called Add It Up, this is my restarted draft of that. But I don't where I was going with it and I have no idea what I'm doing with all the stuff I wrote for Add It Up. If you want to learn more about that fic, look at my tag for it.

In this story, Donna is marrying my OC Jack O'Connor (WTOE). Eric went to NYU and met the people he will later start a band with, and the character Jenna you will meet here is his intended love interest since Donna is married. Hyde and Jackie reunite at the wedding.

Word Count: 3,064

Pairings: Hyde/Jackie, Donna/Jack, Eric/Jenna

1985 

Hyde raised his hand to knock on the front door when Donna poked her head out the window right next to it. “Don’t knock!” she shouted. “I just painted the door.” 

He lowered his hand. “Okay. Can you let me in?” 

“Yeah, one second.” Donna went back in the window and a moment later, the door opened. Hyde went in. 

“How’s it going? Where’s Jack?” 

“Jack is figuring out what’s wrong with the bathroom sink. If you want to help him, follow the sound of angry Gaelic muttering.” Donna gestured vaguely up the stairs. 

Hyde nodded and went up, Donna behind him. “Everything else good? You like the house?” 

“Yeah, I do. I’m glad we’re moving in before the wedding. I would have been stressed the whole honeymoon if we still didn’t have a house.” 

“I’m glad you moved too, I was getting sick of having you in my apartment,” Hyde teased. He walked into the bathroom, where Jack was hunched by the sink, cursing at a pipe.

Donna touched his shoulder lightly. “What did I tell you about straining your leg?” 

He looked up at her. “That I shouldn’t do it?” 

“Mhm. Now stand up, Hyde’s gonna fix the sink.” 

Jack used the sink as leverage to stand up. Hyde took his place under the sink. "You got a wrench?" Donna handed him the wrench, and he sealed a loose pipe. "Try that." 

Jack turned on the sink, and the water came out. "Damn. I should just stop trying to fix things around the house, it never works out." 

"How's this: I'll fix stuff, and you can cook," Donna suggested with a smile. 

"I was gonna cook anyway," Jack said. "But that sounds wonderful, a chroí." 

"No one makes me feel more single than you two," Hyde said. "Anyway, I came to help you move in. And to tell you that Forman finally called me back and said he's coming to the wedding, with a plus one." 

Donna smiled. "Does he have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?" 

"No. He's bringing this girl from NYU who he's just friends with. He was very adamant about that on the phone." 

Donna laughed. "Same old Eric." She looked at Jack. "Did Emmeline ever call you back?" 

"Yeah. She said she can't make it. Her sister's pregnant and due around the time of the wedding, so she'll be in Truro with her sister." 

"I love it when you say Truro. Your accent just…" Donna shook her head, clearing the thought. She looked at Hyde. "Are you all packed?" 

"Yup. Finished this morning. I'm excited, I've never been out of the country." 

Donna and Jack were getting married in Ireland. Jack's whole family- minus his sister- lived there, so it was easier to get the whole O'Connor part of the wedding attendees there. Donna only wanted to invite her immediate family and friends, so she was fine with that. It would also be easier for them to get to their honeymoon destination in Italy. 

"Jackie's excited?" Hyde asked. 

"Out of her mind," Donna said. "She said she's been calling Jack's sister non-stop to figure out my bachelorette party. She wants it to be better than the last one." 

Hyde chuckled. "Of course." 

"You sure it won't be awkward?" Donna asked, not for the first time. 

Hyde gave her a look. "Jack's inviting your ex to his bachelor party. I can handle seeing Jackie for a few days." 

Donna turned on Jack. "I told you that you didn't have to invite him." 

"I wanted to," Jack said. "He's cool. Besides, he and Hyde are still friends. It'll be fine." He pressed a kiss to the side of Donna's face. "It's going to be great, and we're going to be married soon, and then we'll be enjoying kickass food in Italy." 

Donna smiled a little. "You always know what to say, Sunshine." Jack blushed a little. 

"Aww," Hyde crooned. "You have anything else you need me to fix?" 

They both looked back at Hyde. Jack nodded. "The water heater needs to be set up." 

"I'm on it." 

~

Hyde stood in the foyer of the O'Connor house, helping Donna greet people. Jack was catching up with his family. They'd offered to have everyone over for dinner the night before the wedding. 

The door opened, and Forman walked in. "Oh, thank God, I have the right house," he said. "Hi, guys!" 

Donna gaped at him. "What happened to your hair? I haven't seen you in five years." 

Forman's hair was much longer, falling to his chest. He'd started growing it out a few years ago. He opened his mouth to answer, but a woman pushed him aside so she could enter the house. "You're blocking the door, Forman." 

She had tan skin and short, wavy hair. She had a lot of piercings in her ears and she was wearing an oversized button-down over her Van Halen shirt. "Sorry," Forman said. He looked at Donna and Hyde. "This is Jenna Somers, a friend from college." 

She nodded. "What's up?" 

The door opened again, and Jackie walked in. Hyde hadn't seen her in five years. Her hair was longer, but she looked mostly the same. She went straight to Donna, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Donna! This is so exciting! You're finally getting married to a good guy!" 

"Rude," Forman said. "I'm a great guy. Just not right for Donna." 

Jenna shrugged. "You're a pretty okay guy." 

He frowned at her. "I should've brought Reese as my plus one. Reese would've been supportive of me." 

Jackie separated herself from Donna. "Where's Jack?" 

"Where do you think? He's in the kitchen." 

"I gotta go talk to him. We haven't seen each other in forever." Jackie flounced off to the kitchen. 

"They're friends?" Hyde asked. 

"Yeah. Jackie visited me a bunch when I was living in Yarmouth with him, they got along really well. He helped her after her last breakup." 

"She's dated other people?" Hyde asked, somewhat surprised. He knew it was outrageous to assume that she hadn't seen anyone else, but he hadn't heard anything about it. 

"I'm so confused, man," Jenna said. 

"It's soooo much to explain," Forman said. "Let's go find somewhere to sit so I can try and catch you up." The two of them left the room. 

The door opened again, and Midge came in with a man Hyde had never met. "Oh, hi, Donna! Hello, Steven. This is my boyfriend, Jon. I met him in California." 

"Nice to meet you," Jon said. He had wavy brown hair and a thick mustache. "Donna, is your dad coming?" 

"Yeah. He's, um… Not seeing anyone right now. So try not to rub it in his face, please, mom." 

"Why would I do that? I don't want to rub anything in his face, he's all oily." Midge smiled. "Where's Jack's mother? I wanted to talk to her, y'know, mother to mother."

"I don't know how well that's gonna go. She doesn't speak a lot of English. You're better off talking to Jack's dad." 

"But I don't want to talk to his dad, I want to talk to his mom!" 

"Why don't you go ahead, love, I'll be right there," Jon said, lightly pushing Midge towards the hallway. She walked off, leaving Jon alone with them. "I've learned to just let her do what she says she's gonna do. She figures it out eventually." 

"How do you manage to do it?" Hyde asked. Donna gave him a look. "It's a valid question, Donna, the woman can't follow a conversation for even a minute." 

"Patience. I just let her talk and support her ideas. And I love her a damn lot, which is really necessary at times." Jon focused on Donna. "So, what languages does your soon-to-be mother in law speak?" 

"Irish, Scots Gaelic, and Italian. Her father is Italian and her mother is Scottish, then they moved to Ireland when she was young, so she speaks a lot of languages." 

"I know a little bit of Italian, so we'll see how it goes," Jon smiled brightly, clapped Hyde on the shoulder, did the same to Donna, then walked down the hall. 

"He's definitely… a step dad kind of guy," Hyde said. 

"Shut up," Donna said, laughing. "We should probably make sure there are no major inter-family issues before the wedding." She walked after Jon, and Hyde followed her. 

~

"You're getting married! This is so exciting!" Jackie hugged Donna tightly from behind. Donna smiled. "And your marriage is gonna go so much better than mine, I can feel it." 

"No offense, but it would be really hard for my marriage to go worse than yours." 

"Oh, so Jack's not planning on running away to the Bahamas?" 

"I don't think so, no." 

"Then I can almost guarantee you won't get divorced." Jackie laughed. "I really am happy for you, though. Jack's a great guy, I can tell he really loves you." 

"Yeah. Y'know, I'm not even nervous," Donna said. 

"That's good." 

Meanwhile… 

Hyde and Cal were patting Jack's back as he nearly hyperventilated in the back of the church. "Man, what's wrong with you?" Cal asked. 

"Why is she marrying me? All I have to offer is disabilities. I get a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful woman and she gets a guy with one leg and PTSD. This hardly seems fair," Jack said. 

"Well, we should call the wedding off, then," Hyde said. "I mean, why would Donna almost marry you with that reasoning? And to think she really loves you." 

Cal took a less subtle route. "You're being a fucking dumbass. She loves you, PTSD and all. She wouldn't have said yes to the engagement if she didn't. And you're not less than any other guy 'cause of your disabilities, fuckwit." 

"Exactly," Hyde said. "My ex-wife was legally blind. She could still see, but… y'know, she wasn't allowed to drive." 

Jack chuckled. "Ah, so that's how you managed to get married." 

Hyde smiled. "See, you can do this. You love Donna, Donna loves you. Soon, you're gonna be married and you won't even be thinking about these worries you have now." 

Jack nodded. "Okay. Okay. I can do this." 

"That's the spirit!" Cal clapped him on the back. "And Hyde, save a dance for me after the wedding." 

"Of course. I'm gonna go find my seat." 

~

Eric sat next to Jenna in one of the church's pews. Jenna was wearing a black dress, and she looked beautiful. Eric wasn't about to say that to her, though. 

"Is it weird, being at your ex's wedding?" Jenna asked. 

Eric shrugged. "Not really. I'm happy for her. I'm glad I didn't marry her." 

"Me too," Jenna said. 

He snapped his head in her direction, about to ask what she meant by that, when the wedding procession music started. They all stood and turned to see Jackie walk down the aisle and stand on the opposite side of Jack and his sister Cal. Then Donna came down, wearing her mom's old wedding dress. She looked radiant, and she looked happy. 

Jack smiled brightly when she came up to meet him. Everyone took their seats again, and the ceremony began. 

Before Eric knew it, they were at the vows. 

"Jack… You brighten my life. You always know how to make me smile, and you know what to say when I feel down. You're my closest friend. You know me better than anyone else. I love every part of you, even the parts you don't love about yourself. I vow to love you for as long as we live." 

Jack was blushing deeply. "Donna, a chroí… I never believed I could fall in love again. Then you came and you showed me how wrong I was. I've never been happier about being wrong. You are an amazing person, inside and out. I love you no matter what. I love everything about you. I vow to love you for as long as we live." 

"You may seal these vows with a kiss," the priest said. 

They kissed, and the wedding attendees applauded. 

~

Hyde sat next to Jackie at one of the tables in the reception hall. Donna had placed them next to each other at her family and friends table. She and Jack were dancing together. Forman was talking to Jenna. Jon was leading Midge in a playful sort of partner dance.  Bob was leaning over to talk to Jack’s dad. 

Hyde turned to Jackie. “So, how have you been? It’s, uh… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“Oh, you know, divorced,” she said with an embarrassed smile. 

“Me too.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Really? Steven Hyde got married?” 

He rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “Yeah, yeah. We thought it was a good idea, then we ended it after a year. Her name was Ellis.” 

Jackie nodded. “Same. I really thought Liam loved me, then on our one year anniversary he ran away to the Bahamas. When he got back, we got divorced.” 

“He sounds like an ass. And he’s stupid for ditching you.” 

Jackie gave him a look. 

He gave her a look back. “Hey, you ditched me, remember? You left without letting me answer.” 

“I didn’t leave, though. And you had a second chance to answer when I came back.” 

“But I blew it, and now we’re here, so let’s forget it.” 

“Fine.” She stared at the dance floor, where couples were paired up. She turned to him and held out her hand. "Wanna dance?" 

He smiled. "Sure." 

He took her hand and they went out to the dance floor. He placed one hand on her hip, and she put her other hand on his shoulder. "I like your suit. You never had anything this nice when we were together." 

"Ellis was a fashion designer," Hyde explained. Despite being unable to tell velvet apart from polyester without her glasses on, she had loved designing. She'd designed many nicer clothes for him since he had so few. "What did Liam do?" 

"He was a writer. He was working on a book about vampires when we were together." 

Hyde laughed a little. "Vampires, huh?" 

She laughed too. "Yep. It was terrible. He'd read chapters to me once he finished them, and God, his writing was awful." 

"Well, good thing you're not Mrs. Vampire Book Guy anymore." 

"Yeah." She pulled him a little closer. "I just realized I missed you."

"Just now?" 

"Well, I wasn't thinking about it before. I guess I kind of forgot how much I like being around you. Just in general." 

Hyde stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I missed you too." 

The song changed from Something by the Beatles to You Make Me Real by the Doors. Jackie gasped and squeezed his hand. "It's our song!" 

"It is." Hyde lifted his arm and spun her, then brought her close to him when she came back. He had always liked dancing with her. Way more than he'd liked dancing with Ellis. She smiled through the whole song. 

~

Jackie got her coat and her keys, ready to leave. Steven jogged over to her. "Can I walk you to your car?" 

"Sure," she said. 

They left the reception hall and went out to the beat-down gravel parking lot. Jackie led him over to the car she'd rented for the trip. She was spending a few extra days in Ireland after the wedding, for her own enjoyment. She'd always wanted to see Ireland, and this was her chance. 

"I, uh… I had fun dancing with you today. Thanks for not making things weird between us," he said. 

"I had fun too." She twisted her fingers together. "And why should things be weird? We dated years ago. We're both over it. We can be friends." 

"Exactly." 

They stared at each other for a moment, then they both leaned in and kissed. They parted after a second. Then Jackie wound her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. His hands found her waist. They kissed as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered. 

He parted the kiss just enough to say, "Donna gave me a ride here, could I go back to the hotel with you?" 

She smiled. "Is that why you asked to walk me to my car?" 

"Maybe." 

She kissed him again. "Well, it's good you need a ride, 'cause I was gonna ask you to come back to the hotel with me anyway." 

His eyebrows rose. "Were you now?" 

"Yeah. If you want to." 

"Oh, I want to." As soon as he finished speaking, his lips were on hers again and Jackie couldn't think of anything else. 

~

Jackie cuddled against Steven in the bed of her motel room. She trailed her fingers over his stomach, tracing small patterns into his skin. "Overall… This was a pretty good wedding," she said. 

"Yeah. I'm happy for Donna and Jack. They work well together. I can see them staying together forever, like the Formans." 

"Me too. Although I don't seem to have a very good judgment of that sort of thing." 

His fingers began combing lightly through her hair. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, I thought we would stay together forever. Then I ran away. And I thought Liam and I would stay together forever, then he ran away. So I don't think I should judge Donna and Jack's potential to stay together." 

"Ah." He watched her fingers tracing hearts over his skin. "Y'know… I think it's a lot easier to tell when you're not a part of the relationship. A part of me always felt like Donna and Forman weren't meant to be. But when we were together… That was the first time I was able to see myself with someone for a long time. And look where we all are now." 

She looked up at him. "You could see yourself with me for a long time?" 

He nodded. "I also saw myself being with Ellis for a long time, so don't go thinking you're special or anything." 

She giggled. "I wouldn't dream of it." 

She kissed him softly. Even if it was only for a night, Jackie was happy to be with Steven again. It was comforting, like coming home after a long trip. Jackie decided not to think about what that really meant too much.

[tiedyeflannels]

Adventure of a Lifetime

Kim Taehyung x reader

Chapter 14 | Masterlist

A/N: *warning sirens* ANGST UP AHEAD!! This is what writers would call the "climax of the story", but in all seriousness, this chapter was THE main reason why I had started this series. If it wasn't for this, it would probably still be in my drafts, ngl... Anyways! I hope you enjoy!

We laughed as we stepped through the door and into Tae’s apartment. We were immediately greeted by Yeontan as we took off our shoes and made our way to the kitchen.

“I think it’s so cute how they basically switch personalities when they’re drunk,” I laughed as I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“Who? Jk and Hobi,” Tae asked, right behind me as he reached over and got a bottle himself before I closed it.

I smiled, nodding, just when Jeong-Gyu walked into the kitchen.

I turned to greet him, “Oh, hey!”

“Yo! When did you get back,” Tae asked, taking a sip from his water bottle.

“A few hours ago. Where did you two go? I was surprised that we didn’t see you when we came home,” Jeong-Gyu leaned on the island, looking between both Tae and I.

“Tae took me along to his practice with the members, then we had dinner together. Didn’t he let you know,” I asked.

Jeong-Gyu shook his head, “No, he didn’t.”

“Sorry, I should’ve texted you and Y/s/n just to let you know where I was going so you wouldn’t have had to worry,” I said, looking between them.

There was tension starting to grow in the room, but I couldn’t place a finger on why.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go take a shower and then get ready for bed since it’s getting late,” I said.

“Yeah, I should, too,” Tae said, as he followed me out. I headed over to the room Y/s/n and I were “supposed” to be sharing and saw laying on the bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Yo!”

“Hey,” I said, passing by the bed and walking over to my suitcase to grab some clothes.

“Did something happen between you and Jeong-Gyu,” she asked, looking up from her phone for a second.

My brows furrowed as I shook my head, “Not that I know of… why?” She hummed before she gave an answer, “I’ll let you take a shower first.”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion as I walked over to the bathroom and closed the door.

~

“Okay. What do you mean ‘Did something happen between you and Jeong-Gyu’,” I asked as I shook my hair out with a towel.

She sighed, “Well, he’s been acting differently ever since we got home and realized that you weren’t here. I knew you had to be with Taehyung, but his mood seemed to turn sour after I said that.” I tilted my head in confusion at what she told me.

“So I wasn’t sure if something had happened,” she said.

I hummed, guessing that he was causing the tension in the kitchen earlier, but still not understanding why Jeong-Gyu is acting like this.

I shrugged, “I guess I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.” She hummed in acknowledgement, “Are you getting ready for bed?” 

I nodded, “Mhmm, I’m sleeping on the couch in the living room after you kicked me out last night.”

“It’s not my fault! You know I don’t like cuddling,” she said defensively.

“Yep, and that’s my fault…” I said, monotonously.

“Anyway, thanks for letting me know about Jeong-Gyu. You know where I’ll be if you need anything. Night,” I said as I started to walk out of the room.

“Good night, Y/n/n,” she called out after me.

Walking over to the living room and rolling the blanket out, a conversation could be heard in the kitchen, but since if was muffled I thought I would stay out of what they were talking about.

That was until… I heard my name.

Maybe they we’re talking about me in passing, I thought as I shook my head and finished setting up where I was going to sleep when something in their conversation caught my attention.

“Are you really upset that I brought Y/n along with me?”

“It’s not just that,” Jeong-Gyu aggressively sighed, which made me draw closer to the kitchen to hear a bit better.

“You’ve been taking Y/n’s attention away with your charms!”

“What are you talking about,” Tae questioned and I couldn’t help but agree; what was he talking about?

“This trip was supposed to be just us having fun, but you had to take them away,” Jeong-Gyu sarcastically said.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault. You’re the one that started to abandon Y/n to hang out with their sister. If you cared more about your friendship than this little crush of yours then we wouldn’t be having this problem,” Tae said sharply. 

“Oh! So you’re saying that you just took pity on them, acting like some kind of hero so Y/n would fall for you good looks and charm. Is that it,” the younger brother spat out.

“Do you even hear what you’re saying?!”

“You get everything! A good job, good looks, millions of fans that throw themselves at you left and right! Why can’t you just let me have this?”

“I thought you had feelings for Y/s/n,” Tae asked, voice slightly raised.

I quietly peeked into the kitchen debating whether I should stop this or not.

“Yeah well, all this time without Y/n made me realize that I have feelings for them, too!”

I huffed and rolled my eyes before deciding to end this and started walking in.

“Too bad, because I have feelings for Y/n too,” Tae spoke, making me stop in my tracks and my eyes widened.

What does he mean by that…

“Y/n,” he gently muttered, making Jeong-Gyu turn in my direct and pulling me out of my daze. 

“What’s going on here,” I sighed.

“How much did you hear,” Tae asked.

“A little too much for my liking.”

Jeong-Gyu visibly cringed at my statement, definitely not liking that I heard the argument.

“Listen Y/n, I can explain,” he tried to start, but I held up my hand to quickly silence him.

“I don’t want to hear it right now because you’re clearly not in the right state to think rationally,” I said, pointing to his chest that was still heaving from the anger that he had earlier.

“And I don’t want you two to keep fighting, so take the air mattress and sleep in the family room down the hall. I’ll talk to you about this later.”

I gave him a pointed look before he solemnly nodded and walked out.

I closed my eyes and sighed before looking at the eldest brother. He stayed standing where he was, brown eyes on me. I walked over and lead of the island beside him, arms crossed.

“You seem awfully calm for hearing everything that happened,” he tried breaking the tension.

I weakly smiled, feeling a bit too overwhelmed by all of this.

“What happened,” I sighed.

He shrugged, “You’re guess is as good as mine. All I know is that he was going on about me ‘stealing’ you away from him.”

“He’s an idiot,” I huffed.

He nodded and we stood there for a while in silence as the tension started to dissipate.

“How do you feel about him having feelings for you?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I think he just misses me by his side and is now mistaking that for romantic feelings.”

A moment of silence fell upon us before he raised another question.

“And…” he hesitated, “How do you feel about me… having feelings for you?”

I stood there for a moment.

How do I feel about it, I asked myself before saying, “I don’t know.”

I looked at him, trying to decipher my emotions, but the more I tried, the more I became confused. 

He sighed, “I’ll just get my confession out of the way, if that’s okay?”

I slowly nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve really liked hanging out with you, Y/n. I’m not sure when I started having feelings for you, maybe it was that day at the park or when I first set my eyes on you at my parents’ house, but there isn’t a day that goes by that you’re not on my mind. You’re incredibly smart and witty and sweet and I would love to stay by your side for as long as you’ll let me.”

Tears started stinging my eyes as he took a couple steps to stand in front of me.

“I know it’s confusing and you still need to work out your feelings so I won’t ask you to give me an answer right now. I’ll wait how ever long you want, whether it’s tomorrow or when you go back home or a year from now.”

I dryly chuckled as a tear rolled down my cheek.

Tae softly brushed finger across my cheek, clearing the tear before leaning in close and replacing it with a gentle kiss.

He pulled back far enough to look at me and whispered, “Whatever your decision is, I’ll wait for you. I promise.”

He quietly left the kitchen as my tears started to freely fall.

Chapter 15

Taglist:

@maple-leaves-in-the-wind | @eli-xar | @amaroho

[physalian]

The Woes of Formatting

I am… 22 hours into formatting ENNS for print (now ebook) and am making this post for posterity’s sake to say: Formatting is so. Tedious. I had to start over thanks to Amazon going “ha you didn’t set your margins properly,” and also some last-minute changes to the text. Yesterday (7/24/24) after a full day of work, I worked on Book from 2:30pm to 11:30pm. Today is probably going to be about the same.

My neck hurts from staring at my monitor, my pinkie hurts from the strain of holding a computer mouse in one position since 6am. I have forgotten to cook lunch and dinner, but I did have breakfast.

It doesn’t even feel real yet. I am exhausted. But you know what feels great? Eliminating widows and orphans on the pages to erase the page count only by one. If you don’t know, those are the little hanging words on the bottom line of a paragraph or the top of a page that can be resized to fit on the line above it.

Getting to the last page of the chapter and realizing there’s only 3 or 4 lines of text left eating up an entire piece of paper, and then scrolling back through the chapter like a madwoman to nudge other paragraphs around to eliminate that extra page… I was literally cheering in my room in satisfaction.

For the record it shouldn’t take you this long, but I wanted it to be pretty, and Amazon is incredibly precise with their formatting requirements down to 0.001inches. So I had to reformat the cover art, which took a while. Then I had to fix the margins at least 3 times until no more errors showed up. Then I had to reread the entire book for last-minute changes. Then I had to format the chapter header pages.

Before that, though, I had to make the art for the chapter header pages. And re-learn how to do all of the formatting on InDesign.

So here I am, 22 hours in, finally onto the ebook that will be done tonight goddamn. And I just want to say, if it’s within your power to do as much of the work yourself as you can, fucking do it.

I’d be losing my mind with stress if I was waiting for a cover artist to make adjustments whenever they deigned to find my order a priority. Or the person I’d be paying to format this book. Losing. My. Mind. Maybe after the ridiculous goose chase I have been on with editors for this book has completely murdered my faith in paid beta readers to do shit in a timely manner (ENNS' first draft was written in 31 days, it took from 2/25/24 to 6/10 for my tiny army of betas and the AWOL failed betas to deliver, then 6 weeks for the professional copy edit). Anyway.

Yeah it’s taken me a long ass time, on top of two full corporate-nonsense workdays, but the satisfaction I have felt hammering this project out isn’t comparable to paying someone to do it for me. I got the manuscript back from my copy editor and I wasn’t excited, I was like “I needed this 10 days ago thanks” (in my head) and then got right back to work. Copy editor is necessary, don’t get me wrong, it’s absolutely necessary, but the catharsis that I have now was definitely absent then.

So. Yeah. This is rambly and I’m not sorry. Even after the ebook is up for preorder there’s still work to be done and money to be spent. But I’m forcing myself to take a break, pause, breathe, appreciate the work I have already done.

I am hours away from launching my first published novel. Hours.

It doesn’t feel real. August 25th, 2024, Eternal Night of the Northern Sky's official release date. Gahhhhhhh.

—

For anyone curious:

Cover was done in Photoshop (I have the Lightroom student package for $9.99/mo)

Formatting was done in InDesign (%#&%# $35.99/mo after 7 day trial choke on rocks, Adobe)

Formatting did not need to be done in ID, but other one-time fees were either more expensive when I can cancel my subscription after the month is up, or the free versions were too limited and constricting in their capabilities.

I’m far too nitpicky to not have complete creative freedom and control over my work, with all the hours I have put in. So Adobe it is.

Back to work!

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

actually, you know what.

this is from a deleted chapter of shttdd. i had to cut it for a number of reasons, but this scene was one of the first i pictured in my mind and it works perfectly with the idea i still have about the relationship between peanut and his mother.

so. here it is, a deleted and rough draft of an excerpt from the story as well as a headcanon. enjoy <3

-

word count: 1.5k ca.

-

He finds her sitting on the bench at the stop, a bit of the excitement already faded, if anything in the calm of the wait in the rigid December cold, as Larry sits next to her.

Ever since he was a child, he has barely ever set foot in a church, except maybe a few times that he had to fetch Johnny for some Greasers meeting, so he certainly is no reliable source. Still, when he looks at his mother like this, when she isn’t running from one place to the other, he can’t help but think she looks sort of like a Madonna — in the good Sunday dress her mother had left her, smile sweet but with some undefinable glint of sadness in the corner of her eye. 

His knowledge of the story is vague, but he struggles to believe them, when he hears people claim Mary had happily and unconditionally accepted sacrificing her youth for a child, no matter how much good he would’ve done for the world or how much she would’ve been adored or even how much she would’ve loved the child. Larry is no Jesus, but he knows for sure that, despite treasuring him and loving him to death, his mom has never stopped grieving the teenage years she had to give up for a kid that only ever stopped her from flying away.

«The Espositos are so nice, inviting us all there.» When she speaks, her gaze is lost in the streets in front of her, and she might as well be talking more to herself than to her son. «It’s nice to stay over there, with people who care about you. It’s nice.»

There has always been something ironic about the way she loves and celebrates Christmas, especially since she’s never had a good relationship with a Father that has never cared about her and the only holy water in their house has only ever been the spit on good old Christian ladies condemning her to the stake. Everything she loves about the twenty-fifth of December, Larry has only guessed, is that, for a day, she can pretend not to be in charge, to have someone to rely on.

«Who else of your friends is there?»

She purposefully puts it casually, but the question stabs Larry’s heart sideways nonetheless. However, just like she did, he nonchalantly tries to list of all his Greaser friends that Hal might have invited for Christmas. «Well, usual, I guess. Lefty’s back in Rome for the week, Vance is with his sisters and his mom… most of them will stay at their own house I think. I’m not sure about the Pucinos, since Ricky’s dad just came back an’ all that. But I don’t think anyone else is coming. I wonder if Johnny and Lola will come, after all I think it’s jus’ the two of ‘em. I might go see them in the afternoon.»

At the last two names he finds himself biting the tip of his tongue, some bad feeling in his throat, the doubt that he wouldn’t have been able to avoid the topic if he said it nor if he didn’t.

True to his expectation, at the sole mention of Johnny’s name, his mom’s features harden, her eyes still into the distance; not even looking at him.

What a great way to start the day.

A huff escapes his mouth, but the knot in his trachea doesn’t go away with it. «Mom, I get that you don’t like him, you don’t gotta do this every single time.»

«It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s not personal!» She shakes her head energetically, as she always does, but Larry knows exactly where this is going anyway, and he’s awfully tired of this shitshow that opens its curtains any time he just happens to mention Johnny.

He rolls his eyes, sparks of irritation jumping in his chest, head falling in his hands as all the blood flowing to it makes it heavier and heavier. «I can’t believe we’re having this conversation at a fuckin’ bus stop.»

«I just,» Shrugging frantically, she keeps following her train of thoughts, deaf and blind to her son’s reaction, only her own heart beating in her head. «don’t think you should trust him as much as you do, y’know.»

His arms open, and he’s not looking at her either, too busy trying to hear his own voice over the roar in his ears. «He’s always taken care of me! Always!»

Her argument is always the same, repetitive, stubborn; he must have taken it from somewhere, after all. «For now! You can’t rely on that kind of guy!»

«“That kind of guy”.» Her and Johnny might have interacted two, three, four times at best, and certainly she’s never seen him rush at his side, or waiting for him to wake up in the infirmary, or introducing him to the higher ranking members of the clique, or pulling him away from bullies’ grip, or fighting back by back with him against older kids jumping them. She doesn’t know him, doesn’t know them, and, after leaving him wondering in his earliest childhood if she had ever wanted him around at all, she is definitely not in the position to judge whether Johnny actually cares about him or not. «What “kind of guy” would he be, huh?»

Still, she goes on, undeterred, if anything more determined to make her point come across. «He’ll just chase the first thing that excites him! He can only enjoy things as long as they’re good, but he’ll leave as soon as he doesn’t have fun anymore!»

This time, Larry snaps. «Oh, c’mon! Just ‘cause dad—»

Their eyes finally cross. Suddenly, they are but two sixteen years old staring at each other, both lost, confused, horridly lonely. He’s said the one word that he’s never supposed to voice, that is meant to stay stuck between the teeth she’s kept gritted since the day she found herself alone sixteen years ago. As soon as Larry has let it out, it has pierced into her gaze, breaking the glass of her eyes that she had tried to keep together with superhuman effort.

What an asshole that he is, isn’t he.

Taking back his words is impossible, now, or, at least, there’s nothing he can do to glue those pieces back together, fragile like crystal in his rough and indelicate hands. «Mom…»

«You know what? You’re right.» She turns her head away again; her voice is coarse, older than the thirty-two years old she’s supposed to be, as shaky as the little girl she never grew out of. «I can’t believe we’re having this conversation at a fuckin’ bus stop.»

Apologies are stuck up his throat, blocking his breath, but he knows better than to insist; for once, he should just be an adult and shut his mouth.

He just wishes this wasn’t such a minefield, one where they are only ever condemned to hurt each other.

When they get on the bus, it’s wordlessly, silence heavy on Larry’s stomach and his mom’s eyes passively laying on the window as the buildings slide behind it, gray snow that clashes with the colored lights, five broken for each one shining. She is often silent when something’s wrong; when he was younger, naive and unable to grasp why she should have been upset at him coming back home just a few minutes too late, he would stare at her from the couch, dread in his throat as her face wouldn’t soften for hours, waiting for her to give him a smile, to tell him that it was okay and she still loved him.

Growing older, though, he’s learned to be patient, to test the waters slowly and let her know that she’s safe peeking out of her own head. Lightly, making sure that his own uneasiness doesn’t leak through — she doesn’t need a child to comfort, right now. «Mom?»

Not an answer, a gesture, a gaze.

He takes a breath; just another try. «Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.»

Finally, she turns to him. At first, there’s still something cold, distant in time and space, like her soul is only now realizing what body she’s finding herself into, like she’s seeing him for the first time, at birth. However, it warms soon after, thin lips curling in a soft smile, that Holy Mary tender and bittersweet gaze, as she caresses his cheek. «It’s okay. I just wish you didn’t turn out so much like me.»

This is another thing that she tells him often; in all these years, though, Larry still hasn’t found quite the right explanation. All he can do is laying his head on her shoulder and let her stroke his hair, pretending for just a second that they can be just as happy together as any mother and son would be.

What would they be like, if they were okay?

[pre-reform-voice]

Mini-fic or Prologue - who knows?!

Okay, I have drafted a prologue for the Xiyao fic I threatened earlier today. My friend likes it, so I took a second glance at it, smoothed out a few wrinkles, and now I'm throwing it here.

I have no idea if this can function because I have yet to read the books, so I can't tell for certain if I will use it all - and if I do, it might not be the prologue so much as part of a chapter, all of that is written in the stars. But since Ao3 doesn't allow placeholders (nor should it) and I don't know when I get to write the whole thing (although that I will write it certain), I'll at least put this fragment of questionable permanence here for the time being. I will announce when I post the actual fic to Ao3.

No Bonds Can Hold Me

‘Maintain your own discipline. Train your body and your mind. Store your inner wisdom deeply.’

Second nature. All of this was second nature to a man who had lived by these rules his entire life. Now discipline eluded him, his mind refused to focus on what mattered, and his inner wisdom was torn to shreds. There was almost nothing left of the man he had been … before. And if there was nothing left, what was the point of him? ‘Do not act impulsively.’ That rule had saved his life several times over recently. To what end? He had broken so many others: ‘Do not grieve in excess. Do not bully the weak. Do not associate with evil.’

Am I the evil? The voice that existed in his thoughts only perforated his meagre attempt at meditation again, stripping away another layer of his strength.

Seclusion had done nothing to erase the guilt and the pain and the grief, to silence this voice. It lived in his heart as constantly as its beating. It hadn’t helped compose his mind, hadn’t let him accept that what was done was done. Every time he started out asking himself, ‘How could I have acted any differently?’ the question quickly degraded into the much simpler and much more destructive, ‘How could I?!’ The blood on his hands and clothes was long gone, but he could still feel it sticking to his skin any time his eyes closed, could smell its cloying scent, so much, so much of it.

‘Be gentle and content in adversity.’

Slowly, Lan Xichen opened his eyes. It was, indeed, done, and yet he knew there was one path not yet taken. ‘Do not act impulsively. Do not fall to evil.’ But was an act he had chewed over time and time again for more hours than he could count impulsive? Was saving a soul evil?

He hadn’t allowed himself those thoughts at first, but now that he did, he felt calmer. ‘Have a strong will and anything can be achieved.’ His path was laid out before him and he would walk it openly and with determination. He needed help, and he wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Beg for it, if he had to.

‘Don’t be unreasonable.’ What was one more rule broken anyway?

The voice in his head that kept repeating his name like a broken mantra could only be assuaged by returning it to the real world. It was his fault that it had been silenced, so it had to be him that did all he could to restore it. (‘Uphold the value of justice.’) And if that proved impossible, he should earnestly consider following it into oblivion, the way he had been prepared to.

Lan Xichen stepped out into the darkness. (‘Venturing out at night is prohibited.’) He had tried to silence the call that only he could hear, but now he welcomed it, let it guide his steps and fuel his spirit. Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen … ‘Yes,’ he thought, conscious of the cool air surrounding him and the light breeze rustling his robes, ‘I still hear you. I’m not grieving for you. I’m coming for you.’