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etheraella · 4 years ago

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𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴, 𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕖𝕣𝕒

(James Potter x Reader x Remus Lupin)

Summary: Midnight tours, sitting on rooftops, blithe relationships and smiles full of ecstasy, (everything was perfect). Sleepless nights, pitiful eyes, bitter lies and forced promises, (until it all changed). Nothing hurts more than picking a side, especially if it’s between two people you cherish the most. So tell me, is it James or Remus?

Warnings: mentions of forced marriage, sorrow

P.S: We came across a song that describes this story perfectly right as we were about to post, and we thought it would give that final touch to the story. The lyrics will only make it’s entrance after a while. here it is

* - used for flashbacks

!! bold italics - used for lyrics !!

Made up twists:

- The public knows about the marauders being animagus’s

- The crystal ball used for Divination was found early and only the higher ups, like Dumbledore, had access to it.

- Wizards actually relied on the crystal ball considering how accurate it was

You slammed the fork on the table, annoyed as what you hoped would be a quiet meal got interrupted, causing everyone to freeze still at the abrupt noise.

“Is it really that hard for me to enjoy a meal? One meal. That’s all I’m asking for.” You eyed every single presence on the table, keeping your gaze as intimidating as possible, yet some still mumbled under their breaths and puckered their lips so their smiles would look less obvious.

“Why? Getting shy? Oh, c’mon Y/N, you and James make quite the couple and you know that. Quite probably, the whole school does.” Your eyes shifted towards Sirius, who looked at you from the side of his eye, smugly smiling with a bit of his teeth exposed.

“Open your mouth again, Padfoot, and I’ll shove my fork down your throat.” You threatened, grabbing the fork you previously slammed on the table and pointing it at him. You glared at James, who had never once done anything about the teasing from the entire school. In fact, he just feeds the people with what they want.

While your meal was disturbed, he seemed to be enjoying his. He sat slouched on his chair, with an arm resting on the one beside him, the corner of his lip was perked up as he looked at you. “Don’t look at me, it’s not my fault we got exposed.” He raised his eyebrows, assuming to be portraying the innocent one, with his hands raised up lazily while his arm was still glued onto the chair beside him.

Frustrated, you combed your hair back with your left hand, looking to your right, where Remus happened to be sitting. He gave you a small smile. You returned it.

You and James were the impeccable duo, or at least as Hogwarts thought. Well, it is quite out of the ordinary for a woman to have a male animal as an animagus, specifically, a stag; which was James’s animagus too. It was funny how James, a coarse, vile-tempered boy had a stag, an animal that indicates looking out for others and leadership roles as an animagus. It was all so strange, almost as if you were meant to be… was what they convinced themselves with. Either that, or one of you loved the other so dearly, not only their patronus followed the other person’s, but their animaguses too. However, you didn’t take any of it into account. You thought it was all inconsequential.

Besides, it wasn’t James that had caught your eye, it was Remus. Not that James was irrelevant or anything, you still loved him, but not in that way. And you didn’t want your friendship to rupture. You had more of a connection with Remus though, and you felt as if he did too. But neither of you had the courage to tell each other. Although, there were times when “friendly” wasn’t the word to describe your relationship.

“Move!”

You dreaded these kinds of days; the days Hogwarts made their Steak and Kidney Pie. Not because they didn’t taste good, but because you’ve never reached the dining hall fast enough to pick a table where they actually served it. It was just ridiculous to you how they only serve the pies at certain tables. It almost felt as if the staff wanted to watch the students hurdle up like sheep getting chased by a sheepdog and the dining hall playing as their sheep pen.

You stretched your arms out in between the two people in front of you, making a big enough hole for you to push through.

“I’ll even swim if I have to.” You thought to yourself. It was no use, even as you went further forward through the line, the people beside you would push you more towards the wall. And once you reach the wall, it’s game over.

“Budge it.” Losing your balance as you felt a sudden push from one of the ‘sheep’, you got smacked against the wall, or so you thought was a wall.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Looking up at the low-pitched voice, you realised what you were previously slammed against wasn’t a wall, but rather someone’s rock hard torso, or more precisely, Remus’s rock hard torso. Rattled, you try backing away, trying to create space between the two of you, however the hallway was too cramped for that.

Remus slightly tilted his head to one side, making his double chin visible as he looked down at you, grinning. “Cramped places could be useful at times, don’t you think?”

“Don’t try it, Remus.” You said as you buried your face deeper into his shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red you had become. But what you didn’t know was that he could feel your heartbeat fastening, being the reason for his chuckle.

“She sure is having quite the dream, isn’t she?” The sound of a pair of hands clapped together was enough to make you snap out of it. In a swift move, you sat straight on your chair. James, who was sitting in front of you was laughing hysterically.

“You could have picked a different time to daydream about the future you and James hold, you know.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Later that night, you stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You were always the last to fall asleep out of your dormmates, probably due to the continuous night tours around Hogwarts with the rest of the marauders. There was no way you would have a normal sleep schedule now.

Suddenly, you heard what seemed to be a knocking coming from the window. Looking towards the sound, you spotted a familiar owl pecking the moonlit glass window. You smiled to yourself, fully aware of what was happening. Hopping off the bed, flinching once your feet came in contact with the cold floor, you slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake your dormmates up. There stood James, a grin plastered across his face. “Hogsmeade tour?”

You smiled from ear to ear, all too familiarly.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You and James found yourselves sitting on the roof of a random shop located somewhere in the middle of Hogsmeade after a walk around what felt like the whole of the village, until you started to feel pain in your legs. You yawned, finally feeling a hint of tiredness in your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Tired already?” Unable to open your mouth, you just hum in response. “Another round, perhaps?” Lifting your right hand up, you slightly nudged his head to the opposing side with your index and middle finger, causing him to let out a short giggle followed by a kiss on your forehead.

“G’night, Y/N.” He rested his head on yours as he drifted to sleep along with you.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You woke up to James screaming. “Get up! We’re late!” Still half-asleep, you let out a lazy groan as he continued screaming in your ear. “If you don’t get up now, I’m pushing you off this roof.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled a quick response in hope of James to stop talking.

“Get. Up.” Letting out a loud sigh, you lazily shook the sleep off your body and stood up. “How late are we, exactly?” You asked, your voice still a little croaky.

“They’re probably having lunch by this time.” Your eyes widen, almost as if they were about to pop out. “Damnit, James! You couldn’t have woken up a little earlier?” Cussing under your breath, you jumped off the roof and started running towards the school, James laughing to himself, following behind you after grabbing his jacket.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You two just stood there, your hands behind your backs.

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Looking at the two of you, anyone would have easily misunderstood. How your hair was all messed up, along with James’s, your clothes wrinkled and only returning to the school the next morning. As the students walked by, they stole glances and exchanged giggles. Even at a time like this, where you and James were accused of scandalous behavior, James seemed to be doing nothing about it. It has always been you who had to solve misunderstandings.

You nudged James with your elbow, signaling for him to do something with your eyes. To no surprise, he just frowned and shrugged. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand seemed unamused, with her arms crossed.

Clearing her throat, she finally spoke. “Be that as it may, professor Dumbledore is expecting you. Both, Of you.” And with that, she walked away, leaving you and James exchanging looks with each other.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Ah, yes. Please, sit.” Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, admiring a crystal ball which was placed neatly on it. While on your way to Dumbledore to take a seat, he unanticipatedly posed a question.

“So, what are your thoughts on marriage?” Finally looking up from the crystal ball, he looked up at the two of you, with a small smile.

“Pardon?”

“You two are romantically involved, are you not?” You were taken aback by the professor’s sudden straightforwardness.

“No.”

��Yes.”

You shot your head at James, who did the same. Whilst you and James were busy arguing under your breaths, Dumbledore approached the two of you. “Well, it would be nice if that was the case, seeing that you two have a probability of ending the war.”

You shifted your attention to Dumbledore, curiosity filling your head as you wondered what he meant by ‘ending the war’. “End the war?”

“Precisely,” While Dumbledore was walking back to his desk, you and James followed behind him. “You see, being an old man has its own perks as well. Whilst being locked inside this room with nowhere to go, my mind has been pondering.”

Fascinated by the topic Dumbledore had bestowed upon you, you sat down, your gaze still fixed on the headmaster. “It is unquestionably impossible for a female to possess a male animagus, yet somehow you accomplished it.” He turned his back around to look at you. “If it’s not a deep connection that mirrored each of your animagus’s, which surely it must not be, it must be the power you hold. With the both of you combined, surely Voldemort won’t have a chance against you, or your children.”

“Children?!” You almost screamed. Once realising how loud you had been, you sniffed and fixed your position back on your chair.

“I am aware of how sudden this all seems, however at times like this, I’m afraid not everyone has a choice. But of course, we will not take any risks. Therefore, to determine the success percentage of my proposal, we will be using, this.” He held the crystal ball he was previously admiring in his hands, as delicately as possible. “Divination?” James interfered, his tone smooth.

“Correct, James. We will be announcing the marriage publicly with the purpose of having everyone believe it being true. At which point, this crystal ball will analyse and interpret a wizard’s surroundings by logical thinking and sensibility of mind and body in comparison to Arithmancy, which focuses on calculating probabilities, magnitude, strength and effectiveness of magical forces in general, including properties of numbers and their application, which will be used to foresee a glimpse of the future. If perhaps, there is no sight of the victory of Voldemort, be it in love or not, this marriage is compulsory for the safety of the wizarding world.”

With no words to say, you were forced to carry all the pressure that was caused by what you thought was a miracle; having a powerful animagus. You were forced to pick a side.

“What if it still shows Voldermort’s victory?”

Dumbledore sighed before slumping down on his chair. “Then, I’m afraid my proposal was hopeless. And the marriage would be called off, publicly. I would have to yet again, sit here and… ponder.”

You sat there, thinking about both the possibilities. Although there were positive sides to both situations, the only thing that circled your head was the negative effects; what would happen to you and Remus?

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Your mind was still lingering in the headmasters office that you almost bumped into a wall. Fortunately, James was there to stop you.

“Does it really bother you that much?” He looked at you, his hand grasped onto your arm from when he stopped you from hitting your head onto the wall.

“This is about marriage, James! No, it’s about reproducing!” You looked at him, wide-eyed, seeing as he seemed all too unfazed by all this.

“Well, it’s not as bad when you really think about it. You could be ending up with Snape for all you know!” He laughed hysterically at his own line, whilst you blankly stared at him, unbelievably. “How could he be joking around at a time like this?” You thought.

You’ve been avoiding Remus since yesterday; when the news was announced. You were too afraid he would be disappointed in you; that you didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. You didn’t want to hurt Remus, but neither did you want to hurt the rest of the wizarding community. You decided that your decision would be made once you see what the crystal ball portrays.

“Run along, you too! We don’t have all day!” Your thoughts were interrupted by professor McGonagall who pushed you and James into the headmasters office. She didn’t know that your marriage was a part of a strategy. Dumbledore suggested she shouldn’t know so that she could be the one controlling the crystal ball, in order for the crystal ball to be analysing the professors surroundings; someone who wasn’t aware that it was all a part of a scheme.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Well? What do you see?” James pushed, forcing a quick answer.

“If you want to know so bad, why don’t you just look?” You glared at James from the small hole you made in between your fingers which were covering your face. You were too anxious of looking into the ball; you were scared of the outcome. James must’ve felt the same way, since he was also covering his eyes.

There was silence for a while. Nobody said a word. Dumbledore and professor McGonagall exchanged looks before putting the crystal ball away and facing the two of you. Before speaking, Dumbledore cleared his throat, which caused the two of you to turn your backs and face him.

“It seems as though the marriage will come to a great outcome. My proposition was well-built indeed.” He smiled, seemingly pleased with his way of thinking. Meanwhile you, on the other hand, were thinking about how on earth you were supposed to face Remus now.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The moon had already made it’s entrance as you were still seated on some rocks near the Whomping Willow, with the waning gibbus moon and the forbidden forest in your range of view. You had completely lost your sense of time due to the messy state your mind was in. It was so quiet, even the sound of your stomach rumbling caused you to jump.

“Hungry?” You looked to your right, Remus was looking back at you with a softened gaze. You forced a smile before switching your gaze back to the forest, Remus making his way to seat himself beside you.

“Have you ever imagined life on the other side, Remus? You know, behind the forest and it’s deadly creatures.” You pointed the word deadly out in a sarcastic manner as you thought life inside the forest wasn’t as dangerous as people thought it was.

“Sunshine and rainbows?” He smiled, only the higher points of his face visible as the moon shone on them. “I’m serious.” You frowned, his smile growing bigger.

“What do you say we find out?” he raised an eyebrow.

“What about the deadly creatures?”

“Hey, I’m here for you.” He nudged you back with his shoulder a little too aggressively, causing you to almost fall on your side if he didn’t catch you. “Steady on! The moon already acting up?” You teased, but he seemed to be offended.

“Y/N, my shift was yesterday.” The realisation hit you; you were too caught up with the whole scheme that you didn’t even make time to think about the one person you cherished most. “Oh, I’m sorry,”

“No, no. It’s okay. I mean, I don’t blame you. With your marriage and all.” He sighed. You closed your eyes as you realised what you had done, or more specifically, what you hadn’t done. You wanted to be the one to tell him, he deserved to hear it from your own voice. “Remus, I-“

He took a deep breath in as he stood up and straightened his uniform, giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“ Somewhere far behind The scenes Two thousand and seventeen The start of a story Rumors about you and me Talking 'bout our chemistry But no need to hurry ”

“Congrats, Y/N. I’m glad it’s with James and not someone else.” He tried letting out a laugh, which only came out as a small, forced huff. Hesitating, he walked away, as if he had more to say but he couldn’t bring himself to. You only watched as his silhouette faded. The fact that you weren’t able to stop him built the guilt inside you. It was either this or the lives of many wizards being thrown away.

It was at times like this that you wished you had gotten a different animal and not a stag as your animagus; even if it meant you had to be rotten inside.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You winced at the bright light that shone through the window. Not aware how you ended up in your dorm, you looked around you. No one was there. “Has class started already?” You thought.

You studied yourself in the mirror as you fixed your tie. You’ve always had dark circles, but this time it was the most noticeable. But things like this didn’t bother you; it couldn’t. Not with all the bigger burdens you had to carry. You shook your head, giving yourself the idea of the weight being brushed off your body.

As soon as you opened the door to leave, a conversation was already being held in front of you. “Yeah, he got caught shifting the night before the last. He’s been hiding in the Shrieking Shack this entire time! Can you believe it?”

“What?! I mean, I’ve always thought Remus was weird, but I really didn’t think that far! So what’s going to happen to him now? I don’t want to be in the same building with that freak!”

“Trust me, nobody does. They’re having a meeting with some of the student’s parents, regarding his stay at Hogwarts. I wish he gets—"

As much as you wanted to fight back to the two good-for-nothing gossipers, you couldn’t waste the very little amount of time you had left. You would have been an idiot if you didn’t try to speak for him now. After everything else you hurt him with, it was only right for you to take action as a loyal friend, no, as someone who loves him.

Your mind was too occupied with thinking about what would happen to Remus if he got kicked out that you didn’t feel the pain in your stomach and legs as you ran with all your might. The wind harshly hitting your face as you ran, and your tie loosening. You couldn’t let him get expelled; not for something he didn’t ask for, not for something he couldn’t control.

“ 'Cause I will light up Your heaven tonight Light up your whole world Just for you ”

Your running came into an abrupt halt when James reached out for your arm. Worry filling his expression. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You looked at him, breathing heavily as you snatched your arm away. “Remus needs me.” Seeing as you were about to rush away again, James placed his hand back on your arm, pulling you to face him.

“Tell me what’s happening. Why does Remus need you? What’s going on?” You studied him before combing your hair back with your left hand. “Someone caught him. Shifting. Yesterday. He’s going to get expelled if I don’t do something about it. He’s not a freak! He doesn’t hurt anyone!” Your shaky voice raising with every word you said, tears filling your eyes as you thought about what would happen if you don’t get there in time, huffing in between your sentences.

James stood there, examining your face, not able to find the right words to say. You sighed, “Let me go. I need to do something.” Trying to push his hand off your arm with your left hand, he only tightened his grip.

“Do you even know where he is? Do you even know where to go? Y/N, are you just gonna go running around the whole castle? With an empty stomach? Do you have any idea how you look right now?! You look like you just got up from your grave, Y/N! You would collapse before even seeing him!”

He paused, before taking a deep breath, followed by you. “Look, he’s going to be okay. Who do you think he is? A weak, fragile little boy? All we can do right now is be there for him when he gets out. Listen to me, It’s gonna be okay, alright?” His tone softening as he lifted your chin up with his folded index finger and looked into your eyes with raised eyebrows. You forced a tight smile and looked away.

“ Wherever you go I will follow Whenever you're low Just let me hold you Let me hold you Don't be afraid I will show you I'll make it okay Just let me hold you Let me hold you ”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Remus, and your wedding was in a few hours. You never got to see him that morning. He left without even saying goodbye. Everything was happening too fast for you to take anything in. All you knew was that you were attending a wedding that was held in the entrance of Hogwarts as a bride, and James being the partner in-crime.

A quick knock from the other side of the door was enough for you to snap out of your thoughts. “Come in.” The door slid open, James leaning against the door frame in his suit, holding a bouquet of lily flowers in his hands. You gave him a small smile; you knew this was as hard for him to handle as it was for you. You shared the same burden, the only way for you to cope was through each other.

He walked towards you, his gaze fixed onto you the entire time. Finally reaching for the chair in front of you and seating himself down, he handed you the bouquet. “You’re gorgeous.” He commented, as he studied you in a white gown, your hair tied up in a bun and features enhanced with the way you looked at him.

“The same to you, I almost drooled.” You teased, followed by him cocking an eyebrow. But his eyes soon softened as he remembered the reason why he came to you in the first place. “Y/N, I have something to tell you,” You simply looked at him, listening attentively.

He dithered, still unsure whether he should tell you or keep it to himself like he did all this while. “We were never going to stop the war.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “What do you mean? I thought this marriage was supposed to—”

“I know, that’s what I wanted everyone to believe.” He paused, realising how much of a problem he was going to cause if he came clean, but he couldn’t keep it any longer; he had to tell someone. He took a deep breath and looked into your innocent eyes before speaking. His tone was filled with desperation.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I really am, but I lied to you. I lied to everyone. I messed with the crystal ball to make it look like we could end the war and I—”

“What? Hold on, James, what are you saying? Why would you mess with the crystal ball? What is wrong with you?!” The more you thought of it, the more it aggravated you; it didn’t make any sense, not even a single drop of anything he said made sense to you.

“Y/N, listen to me, I—”

“Were you in your right mind?! Do you have any idea what that silly prank of yours caused? Is that why you were so relaxed about all of this? Because it was one of your stupid jokes all along? And why on earth are you telling me this now?! James, what were you—”

“It wasn’t a prank!”

That was the first time you had ever seen him as exasperated as he was now. You’ve never seen this side of him. You only knew the bully, James, the prankster, James. The spoilt child, James. Seeing all this was new to you.

“It was never a joke. Do you really think I would be that narrow-minded? I wouldn’t go this far if I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have went this far, if I didn’t love you.” As he kept talking, his tone softened, as well as his expression.

Your face untensed as you looked at him. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I still do. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I knew if I didn’t, you would’ve left. I see the way you look at Remus, I can’t do it anymore.” You avoided eye-contact as soon as he mentioned his name. He was the reason you couldn’t say goodbye.

“Look, I’m sorry. But please,” his breathing became uneasy as he mumbled the next words. “Please don’t leave.”

“ I'm not gonna leave I'm here to stay 'Cause I ain't nobody If I ain't got you ”

You couldn’t scream at him for what he did. You couldn’t tell him off, because you knew how it felt to have someone to cherish. You knew how it felt to love and lose someone. You felt for him, and you hated it. He caused the chaos you didn’t ask for, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him.

“We should go.” Your tone softened as you stood up, the bouquet falling off your lap and onto the floor as you did.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls,"

This was meant to be a day filled with joy and happiness. Everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives except you, and a concerned James, who was standing before you. You examined him, your eyes landing on your joined hands with a ring wrapped on each of our right ring fingers. Who would have thought the moment you’ve always imagined as a child would end up being something you were forced into doing?

“James Potter, do you t…..”

You weren’t paying attention. The rest of his words became blurry for you. It felt as if your ears automatically filtered out the noise and all you could hear was your own thoughts.

Your eyes wandered the venue. Although this wasn’t the memorable moment you’ve always dreamed of, you knew for sure this moment was ought to hold a place in your head.

“Y/N?”

“ Baby, don't let me down ”

You shot your eyes at James, who called your name, then at the crowd. They seemed to be waiting for an answer; it was your turn to make your promise. You paused, your eyes still searching the crowd, until it stopped. And your body froze. “Remus?” you mumbled under your breath. James, following your gaze as he halted to look at him too.

He was leaning against the far behind wall, his arms crossed as he smiled at you. You didn’t expect this would be the first time you would see him after he left; at your wedding, without him being the one who joined hands with you.

“Y/N,” James whispered, causing you to look at him, then back at Remus. Your gaze shifted back and forth between James and Remus as wild thoughts were running your head.

“ Don't let me down Without you, I'm frozen Without you, I'm frozen Baby don't let me down ”

Something was screaming inside your head, and the more you listened, the more you were intrigued to catch it. Your gaze deepened into James’s eyes as you finally gave in. “Just this once,” You thought to yourself. “let me do what I want.”

You held his head in your hands, delicately, caressing his cheeks as you felt sorry for him, then placed a gentle kiss on his forehead as a tear left your eye. Pulling away, you noticed his confused eyes looking back at you. “I’m sorry.” Pulling the ring off your finger and placing it in his right hand before closing it again, you spoke. “We’ll be waiting for you.” Giving him one last smile, you turned to see Remus, his smile faded as he looked at back at you.

“ Wherever you go I will follow “

Lifting your gown up, your feet took off, your gaze still fixed on Remus as a smile plastered itself across your face.

This was the freest you felt in a long time. You deserved this, you deserved a happy ending. It felt as if the weight flew off your shoulders with the wind the more the momentum picked up as you ran. You felt your bun come loose, but you couldn’t care less. You decided to look at what was in front of you, and in front of you only. And in front of you, stood Remus. Your contagious smile now grew on Remus’s face as you grabbed his arm and pulled him with you.

“ Even if time will Fly away We will be hotter Than a flame 'Cause I ain't nobody If I ain't got you No, if I ain't got you ”

“To the forest?” His voice grew bumpy with each step he took, his eyes were fixed on you the entire time. You briefly glanced behind at him as your smile grew wider. “To the forest.”

Without hesitating, he twisted his arm away from your grip and grasped a hold of your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers as he picked up his pace, now leading the both of you towards the forbidden forest.

He shortly looked back at you, his eyes filled with ecstasy as he did.

“ Just let me hold you Let me hold you Don't be afraid I will show you ”

“I’m free,”

“I’m finally free.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Author’s Note: We are very proud to finally be able to share this project that we have been working on. Celeste has been tirelessly working on the plot, studying more about the project and writing this story, which took her 5 working days to finally accomplish. Meanwhile Luna has put in much effort into editing and polishing everything. It would mean the absolute world to us if our hard work would get noticed. Sending love and happiness to every single individual who interacts with this ♡

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wtf-yoongi · 4 years ago

Text

“Your thing is kind of special.”

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | jungkook misses performing :(

genre/warnings | flufffff

words | 1,329

note | i wanna give jk the world you know

Jungkook is feeling a little bit unsettled. His hands have been slightly sweaty all day, knees jumping up and down whenever he’s seated, walking back to his bedroom to get something only to forget about what he needed and most definitely unable to stand still.

Actually, a little bit is an understatement.

You watch him carefully as he moves from room to room, from one thing to another, never seeming to be satisfied with whatever is going on. He is restless and frustrated and you know it. You want to do something about it, think of ways in which you can help – but ultimately keep your thoughts to yourself as you consider whether or not you can, actually, help.

Taking one last look at his agitated-self – bare calves once again disappearing into the bedroom –, you get up from the place you’ve been sitting for the last hour or so, trying to focus on the laptop screen and the video player when your mind was filled with him.

You take careful steps towards the kitchen area and then turn to the narrow corridor, to where the faint sound of sheets of paper being turned comes from. The light of the second bedroom is on, the one Jungkook uses as an office-slash-studio-slash-gaming-area – and where things that don’t have a place find a place. When you peak inside, he’s hunched over his desk, using an arm for support while his opposite hand stops mid-turn.

He’s looking at you now, a soft smile making an appearance and turning his lips up. “You’re all done?”

“Oh, no, I still have more to go,” you say, thumb immediately pointing back to the living room where your laptop’s screen is surely still glowing. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted some tea… I’m going to boil some water for me, you still have chamomile, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” he answers in a heartbeat as his body immediately stands up straight and his legs start moving him towards you. “I can do that for you, you should go back to studying.”

“Jungkook, it’s an online course,” you mention with a lightness in your voice, something to make him not worry about this one more thing. “It can wait five minutes.”

“I know.” Jungkook is closer now, less than a feet away when he places both hands on your shoulders and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips. It’s short, but still enough for you to smell the motherly perfume of laundry on his clothes. “Let me do something for you. I’m bored, I need to occupy myself.”

You make way for him to leave the room with a tight smile, soon following his broad shoulders to the kitchen. “Well, bored isn’t the adjective I would use, but ok.”

“What would you use, then?” He asks, hands quickly picking up the kettle to fill it with water. “I feel like I know what you’re going to say.”

“Worried? Tense? Anxious? Distressed? Apprehensive, maybe? For how much longer am I going to show off my vocabulary?”

“Yup,” Jungkook says, making the p sound pop at the same time he turns the kettle on. “I was right about knowing what you were going to say.”

“Anything you’d like to share?” You ask and move closer to place a hand on his back. Jungkook tenses for a second and then relaxes, but decides to cross his arms in front of him, not looking really eager to talk about this. “We’re all living a weird life right now – on different levels, yes, but weird regardless –, it’s completely ok to feel apprehensive about it.”

“I feel silly about this, not apprehensive, really. This isn’t right.”

“There’s nothing silly about feeling whatever you’re feeling,” you reassure him, voice calm and kind, but nothing could change his mind. Jungkook still has his arms crossed when he turns his torso in your direction.

When he speaks, his voice is serious. “We’re in the middle of something really awful, you know? People are suffering. I don’t think I should be feeling this, it’s the highest level of privilege.”

“Acknowledging your privilege already shows how much you’ve thought about this and how concerned you are.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

You can’t help but let out a short and breathy laugh – even in the middle of a conversation like this. Jungkook has the smallest of pouts on his lips, but it’s worth it. “Even if I were a therapist, ethically speaking, I couldn’t be yours and you know why, but yes,” you admit and laugh yet again, resuming your hand movements, but now on his shoulder. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s ok to be anxious about this world situation.”

“But it’s more than just anxious, I… I don’t think I’ve gone this long without performing before. You know, like, in front of an actual crowd.”

You stop yourself, letting out a short and a bit surprised oh. “I never thought about this.”

Jungkook looks at your slightly taken aback expression with that I told you so look. “See how silly it is now?”

“It really isn’t,” you say and shake your head quickly, trying to formulate thoughts. “Everyone misses things they’re not able to do at the moment. It’s just that… Your thing is kind of special.”

“I just miss being on stage, you know?” Jungkook asks rhetorically, finally uncrossing his arms, but only to throw them down and look defeated. “I want to be there, I want to feel that energy again. I want to feel so tired afterwards I can barely stand on my feet. And you know what? I hadn’t realized before, but I think I might be addicted to that feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m 100% sure performing releases a bunch of happiness and excitement hormones and that I’m addicted to it. I actually looked it up on the internet,” Jungkook explains, body walking away from yours again to get two mugs from the cabinets above the sink. “Just like people who go to the gym all the time and don’t realize their bodies are addicted to the endorphins being released every time they work out.”

“People who exercise all the time?” You ask him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you mean yourself? I don’t think you could go a week without boxing.”

Jungkook doesn’t immediately answer, hands expertly moving to fill the mugs with hot water after he places a tea bag inside each of them. “But boxing isn’t the same as performing. Actually, it’s nowhere near.”

After another moment of silence, Jungkook turns around again, taking a good look at you. There’s the smallest of smiles on his face when he opens his arms and, soon after, his voice comes out just as warm and inviting. “Come here."

Your feet then carry you forward to meet him. He finally looks relaxed when your body collides with his, moving his arms to encircle your middle, pulling you closer and squeezing you protectively.

“I’m really sorry you feel like this,” you start, voice muffled by his clothed shoulder. “I wish I could do something to help.”

“You do more than enough by just coming around,” he assures you, a hand leaving your middle to slide upwards and hold you even closer somehow. “It’d be much worse without you here.”

“Good thing I’m here to make you drink chamomile tea and calm down, then.”

“You didn’t even want chamomile, did you? You don’t usually drink chamomile at this time of day. It’s usually black or green tea, something with caffeine.”

You shake your head quickly and let out a short, childish laugh. “No, I wanted you to drink it. I thought maybe it would calm you down a little.”

It takes a while, but when Jungkook speaks again you can hear the smile on his face even though you’re not seeing a thing. “I literally don’t deserve you.”

“Good thing I can say the same.”

Read more ›› masterlist

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you

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selfindulgent-undertalerps · 4 years ago

Text

Isolated Part 1

A FlawedSunshine roleplay with a prompt that was "Error discovers long-isolated Solar"

@bluepalleteuniverse wanted to be tagged

For some explanation, Solar didn't change his name yet, so he's going to be refered to as Sol

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

Sol is sitting on the ground, curled up. He's alone, been alone for a long long time, he hates it, he's soundlessly crying, his voice not working properly due to screaming.

Error blips into existence his back to Sol and looks around, scowling. He doesn't see Sol yet.

Sol heard something behind him and turned his head to look what it was, when he saw Error, he got a bit shocked and rubbed his eyesockets thinking that he's just imagining him.

A quick check at the code of the AU would show that there's only one person here and it was that way for a long long time.

Error does just that and checks the code. He turns around squinting.

"Well who do we have here?" Error's expression changes to an easy grin with his eyelights glinting sadistically.

Sol just looks at him, unable to say anything, his expressions shift between happiness, confusion, shock and sadness, he slowly stood up.

" Heh you look like you've been through a wringer" Error's grin widens "You're the only one left here aaaand looks like you have been for a while." He looks Sol up and down. "You got a name?"

Sol thinks for a moment trying to think of a way to say his name, finally deciding to write his name in the air, He wrote "Sol"

He's smaller than Error and looks weak.

Error squints at him for a second "...Sol?" Error raises a eyebrow "Ah can't talk, I see... You always been mute?"

Sol shook his head, as in no, he wasn't. Sol is looking at Error, he's a bit scared, but also curious about Error.

Error stared at Sol thoughtfully, "Can you sign?"

"A bit" Sol signed.

"That makes things easier" Error signed back and then out loud "So what happened here?"

"Many things, mostly my brother" His expression changed to sadness.

"How long you've been here, alone?" Error looks around pointedly.

"I don't know exactly, but a few years maybe? I'm not sure"

Error falls silent and he looks at Sol like he's some particularly difficult math problem he has to solve.

"Well look, honestly I'm here to rip this place to shreds. There's enough extra garbage stinking up the Multiverse, don't see the point in leaving a practically dead and empty AU be." He lets his words hang in the air waiting for a reaction.

Solar nodded slightly as in I understand.

Error's grin faltered and he was silent for a moment. He looks away scowling.

"Look I don't usually do this but, it's your lucky day I guess, I'll give ya a choice." He rubs at the back of his neck, still not making eye contact.

"You can come with me, or you can stay here and get destroyed with the rest of this junk. I don't care either way." Error then looks at Sol.

Sol takes a moment to understand what Error said, "I'll come with you" He signed.

Error nods "Alright... Okay." He opens a portal to the Anti-Void and motions for Sol to step through. "Go then, I gotta get this done before the fuckin' ink stain figures out what I'm up to."

Sol hesitantly stepped through the portal and looked around.

"If any dipshit pops in by chance, do me a favor and hide in that giant ass cardboard box over there. Be back in a sec." and with that the portal zips close behind Sol.

About an hour later Error ports back in looking disgruntled with a few paint splats on him.

He jumps visibly when he sees Sol. He puts a hand on his chest and breathes out a relieved sigh. "Fuck I forgot you were here."

Sol is looking at him slightly worried, "Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean to scare you" He signed.

"I'm fine." Error grumbled looking anything but.

"Are you sure? What happened?"

"A shithead showed up and I kicked his ass, that's what" Error snapped.

Sol nodded slightly, "So what's your name?" Sol smiled slightly.

Error was busy looking looking off into middle distance unfocused.

His attention snapped back to Sol suddenly. He pinched his brow "Sorry repeat that, I wasn't looking."

"What's your name?" He's waiting for a reply. Sol is looking at Error with curiosity.

"Ah yeah didn't introduce myself earlier. The name's Error" He eyed Sol warily.

"You have an interesting name" Sol smiled at him.

Error relaxed a little, he was expecting Sol to go for a handshake. "Uhhh thanks right back atcha." Error scratched the back of his skull looking awkward a hint of blue coloring his cheekbones.

"Ok so... now that introductions are outta the way gonna lay down some ground rules." Error leveled a serious gaze at Sol and began listing while counting out on his fingers.

"Don't touch me. Don't touch my shit. Especially don't touch those." He gestured to his strings spread about the Anti-Void. "Don't break my shit. Don't eat my chocolate... And do not!" Error abandons counting and just points a finger at Sol .

"Don't you dare interrupt me when i'm watching Undernovela." Error squints at Sol "You can follow that shit and I might not regret sparing an anomaly for once, capiche?"

Sol nodded.

"K... Good." Error pauses. "Any of the furniture is free game though. The brain teaser puzzles too."

"Okay" Sol looked around, thinking what to do.

Error sighed and flopped into a bean bag chair, his body doing a hard glitch on impact. Error kicked the other chair a small distance away from himself, gesturing for Sol to take it.

He pulled a towel from seemingly out of nowhere and began to blot at paint splats, glancing at Sol intermittently. "So... what exactly happened for you to be left like that back there anyway?"

"You said something about your brother?"

Sol sat down on the chair, "Do you have something to write with and on? I don't know if I could sign it all"

Error nodded and fished a notepad from under his bean bag and tossed it towards Sol. He then pulled a pen from his pocket and tossed that too.

Sol caught the notepad and the pen and began writing, after a while gave the notepad back to Error.

Basically he and his brother had an argument, his brother drank something, got covered by goop, basically ripped Sol' arm off and then went on a killing spree.

His brother took over the throne and was still killing if someone didn't listen to him. Sol was fighting his brother with two friends.

After a while one of the friends left to the other side od the conflict, after more time his brother left the AU with two people.

Sol discovered that the second friend died and took his soul. His friend that stayed, an artist, wanted to leave after the brother and they had an argument about it.

In the end the artist left and Sol was left alone where the rest of the Skeletons either dusted from injuries or themselves.

Error read it and looked up at Sol. "Damn..."

"That's rough, buddy."

Error looks back down at the notepad and back to Sol in confusion "Why can't you talk? You said you were able to talk before."

"Well when I was alone the first few days went kinda okay, but then the loneliness got to me, I started talking to myself, but it didn't really help, then I was screaming just all the time, that damaged my vocal chords, I guess" He's kinda embarassed by this, but his expression is mostly sad.

Error looks sympathetic. He gestures to his own throat "Is it sore? ... Or only if you try to speak?"

"Sore and it hurts more when I try to speak"

Error falls silent for a moment, his expression pensive. Error gets up with a disgruntled sigh and shuffles behind his television set.

Sol can't see what Error's doing but he hears water being poured, the clink of ceramic on glass, and the tell tale beeps of a microwave being used.

Error shuffles back and sets a steaming cup with a tea bag in it and a bottle of honey within reaching distance of Sol and flops back on his bean bag. He looks away from Sol.

"It's uh ginger tea wih a splash of lemon juice. That, and honey usually helps." Error's's got a slight blush.

Sol smiles "Thank you" He added some honey and after the tea cooled down a little bit, he began to drink it, enjoying the warm tea very much.

"No problem" Error said, blush still prevalent on his face.

"Do You have any hobbies?"

Error shrugged "Reading, knitting, solving the teaser puzzles, I'm good with my hands, I make plushies sometimes.."

"Can you show me someday?"

"Yeah." Error nodded "What about you? Hobbies? Interests?"

"Acting mostly"

Error looks interested "Acting?"

"You know, you got a bunch of people that take certain roles and act out scenes, I like to do that, I'm quite good too" Really good if you consider that Sol was the star of his Underground.

Error finishes wiping off the paint and tossed the towel off to the side. "That's pretty cool."

Sol smiled.

Error blushed, and then his expression unfocused for a second before he scowled, blushing harder.

"Something happened?"

Error looked at Sol, "What was that?"

"Did something happen?"

"No!" Error snapped, his face only glowing brighter.

Sol lowered his skull, feeling bad that he asked.

Error's hands shot out in a placating gesture "Aghhh no! Sorry- I just- f-fuck-" Error glitched "S-sorry, I didn't mean to snap. You d-did nothing." Suddenly both his hands smacked into his face and he dragged them down with a groan.

"No worries"

Error sighed and sunk himself further into his bean bag chair. Sol yawned, slightly rubbing his eyesocket.

"You tired?"

Sol nodded.

Error looked around his brows furrowed .

"Shit." He muttered under his breath. "There's a bed over there if you wanna use it."

"Okay" Sol stood up and smiled at Error "Thank you"

Error blushes "No problem"

Sol went to lay down on the bed, he quickly fell asleep.

Error gets up and checks on him and pulls the covers over Sol more. He then flops back on his bean bag and pulls out materials to start knitting a scarf.

#sunspot #sunspot!sans #error #error!sans #undermine #errortale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #undertale #ut #utau #au #um #et #fanfic #roleplay

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melyaliz · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 Enter the SandMan

Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel / X-men

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x OC

Summary: No matter when she goes to bed Gemma always feels exhausted when she wakes up.

Notes: special thank you to all the support I have gotten so far on this fic. Gemma has been an OC I have had for some time now but always seem to struggle to tell her story (for some reason)

Also, I feel like not a lot of happening but I promise it will pick up.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

--------

They had been dealing with these mutants for over a year now. Not consistently but every once in a while they would pop back up. Only stealing weird stuff from power cells. Once they had stolen a whole truck full of household batteries (like AA and stuff). Another time they had broken into a string of car dealerships but only took the engines

Regardless they would strike and then disappear just as quickly.

Xavier had said that it was possible they had been causing crimes for longer but the X-men had only come upon them recently.

Because of their mutant powers he had been worried they would ruin all the hard work he was doing to build a better world where Mutants and Humans could co-exist. They weren’t shy about using their powers both in a fight and when they were busy taking whatever they wanted.

Peter had never really thought much about it.

They were just more baddies they needed to fight.

Until he met one of them on the bus.

Gemma

-----------

Gemma yawned again rubbing her eyes as she turned on her boombox letting the music pulse through the room. James Hetfield’s gravelly voice filled her small bedroom as she changed from her work clothes into something more comfortable for bed.

It was soothing, the energy pulsing from her speakers. Not that many people would call the tunes of Metallic soothing but she wasn't many people. Sitting down in front of the boombox she hummed along letting the manic sounds flow through her like sparks from a current. As weird as it was to say the fast-paced rhythm was calming she couldn’t explain it any other way.

Getting up she threw herself down onto her bed letting out a low moan as she buried her head in her pillow. Closing her eyes letting sleep overcome her. Praying it would be a peaceful night. That her body would just rest. Just let her have one good night’s sleep.

Was that too much to ask for?

Apparently

Her dreams were filled with weird lights flashing behind her eyelids. Yelling and screaming. Flickers of energy flashing like lighting across her face as monsters with human faces she didn’t recognize danced around her. Their deformed bodies flickering back and forth as if the lighting itself was summoning them.

And a silver-haired boy.

Running around her faster and faster. Her headphones on his head.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

Gemma found herself laying flat on her back on the hard floor of her bedroom, her body unable to move as she looked up at her ceiling blinking a few times. Reality slowly seeped into her consciousness images from her dreams fading.

All but one, a silver-haired boy.

Well man really, but you know.

“Maybe I need to stop playing music before I go to bed” she muttered sitting up rubbing temples trying to bring some feeling back into her body. It felt so numb and exhausting. As if she had just run for miles. Getting up she turned off the buzzing alarm on her clock before dragging herself into the bathroom to try and get herself ready for the day.

“Morning!” Drew said as his older sister stumbled down into the kitchen looking like death itself. He would never say it to his sister but later she really didn’t seem… herself. “I made coffee,” the 12-year-old said, holding out a mug.

Gemma smiled gratefully taking it in her hands letting the warmth fill her body before taking a sip. “Ok but why are you the coolest brother ever?”

Drew shrugged “It’s my gift.”

“Oh, if only I could be as cool.”

“Maybe someday my young padawan”

“Teach me your ways yoda” Gamma chuckled already feeling the effects of the caffeine bringing her back to life.

“Speaking of the best movie that has ever been made, are we still on for marathoning tomorrow?”

“Don’t you have like, cool friends you want to hang out with?”

“Yeah but my sister said she would make her sugar popcorn and I got a bunch of star wars themed snacks with that money you gave me.” As he said this he pulled out a box of C-3PO's cereal out of the cabinet. “I mean look at this,”

“I mean, I know I want to hang out with you and quote Star Wars ad nauseam until our sweet dear parents make us turn it off or at least speak with inside voices but I assumed you had like… you know kids your own age you wanted to hang with.”

“It’s the summer we hung out all week. Weekends are our time.”

“Sounds perfect to me. I literally can’t wait.”

After a hearty breakfast of sugary themed cereal and coffee Gemma grabbed her bag and rushed off to the bus stop while Led Zeppelin cheered her on through her new headphones.

Normally Gemma wasn’t one to really pay attention to the other patients on the bus. Keeping her head down and enjoying whatever mixed tape she had made that week. But as she walked onto the bus that morning she couldn’t help but notice a silver-haired boy sitting at the back.

Was he stalking her?

Naw probably just had the same route.

---

Peter was stalking her. All night he had rushed around unnoticed by the small family that resided in the house Gemma had entered.They were your classic American family. Two kids, a boy and a girl (if not a bit of an age gap) with loving parents. They said grace and talked about their days over a roast.

Picture perfect.

Besides the constant yawning, Gemma seemed happy. Smiling and engaging with them. Very polite and even seemed to care about the work story her father had to say or what drama Karen was causing in her mom’s sewing circle.

Shit that Peter would have bashed his head in if he had to listen too.

Shit, a villain like the woman he had fought wouldn’t sit through. Or at least with a genuine smile like the one Gemma wore. It was like she actually enjoyed family time.

After dinner, they all watched some TV but Gemma had chosen to rest early. Going to her room where she blasted some music from her stereo turning around letting her hands hover just a few inches from the speaker. This was the first time he noticed any non-normal action from her. Just her standing there, eyes closed, head tilted back, mouth open slightly letting the music wash over her with her hands so close to the sound it was as if they craved it.

After a few moments she removed her hands then walked toward her bed face-planting on the bed and promptly fell asleep.

Which was his cue to leave. Yes, he was stalking her but he wasn’t a creeper. Time to find out who this weird girl was.

A quick break-in and a couple photo books later and he learned she was a VERY average girl. Normal grades, all comments in her yearbook generic like “good luck” “rock on” with a few quotes from songs, all heavy rock and metal. (At least she had a good taste in music)

There was one thing though, it looked like in her early years she had dark brown hair and eyes which slowly through her teens faded into the white hair and bright blue that she had now. Probably had something to do with her mutation.

This also confirmed she was one of the four mutants.

Which was almost impossible to believe considering how generic and bland this girl’s life seemed.

It was a puzzle.

---------

Their eyes met in that awkward “so should we act like we know each other or not’ look. In the light of day and (in the loosest term possible) rest, the silver-haired boy wasn’t bad looking. Large brown eyes and that laid back “whatever” attitude that Gemma had always fallen for in high school.

But she wasn’t in high school anymore and he was just some weird guy on the bus.

Deciding to not engage she flashed him a half-smile before taking a seat in the middle of the bus. Ok, maybe she shouldn’t have smiled. But it was that christen upbringing engaged in her.

Be kind to others.

Or some bullshit like that.

“You forgot your headphones yesterday.”

Gemma basically jumped out of her skin when the boy appeared out of nowhere now sitting next to her in the empty seat. Holding out small headphones in one hand for her to take.

“I…” she checked behind her to confirm that the seat he had been in was empty, it was. “I didn’t forget them,” she said, turning her attention back to him. He smelled good, was that bad for her to think? But he did so maybe it was just more of a fact. Kind of like fun. He smelled like fun. Which shouldn’t have a smell… but if it did it would be how this boy smelled.

He was still sitting there holding out the headphones for her, a look of confusion on his face.

“I gave them to you.” she clarified, “So you could listen to some better music than Pink Floyd.”

“Outch, what do you have against Floyd?”

She chuckled, shrugging, “Honestly I don’t, I just felt like razzing you.”

The boy shrugged fighting back a smile, (was it ok to like this girl if she was a bad guy?) “Fair.”

Both of them sat in an awkward silence for a while.

“Well this is my stop” the boy said as the bus slowed.

“Cool, bye”

And like that he was gone.

Weirdo.

Cute, but still a weirdo.

Not that she was really one to talk. She was VERY far from being normal.

Turing up her music she leaned back in her chair letting it play as she held the cassette player in her lap trying to make sure she didn’t touch it with her hands. Sometimes her powers would drain electronics when she wasn’t paying attention, especially when she was tired.

Tired.

Why was she always so tired?

Music playing through her head and thoughts of a silver-haired boy played around in her mind as the world rushed past her.

And that was the last thing she remembered.

-GET TAGGED!-

Forever tag: @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear @ @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep @cdwmtjb8 (Let me know if you too would like to be tagged)

#Peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x oc #Peter Maximoff fanfic #x men oc #X men reader #X men fanfic #ocaap #my fic #my oc #my writing #Gemma #Thief and the Outlaw

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bi-riter09 · 5 years ago

Text

Force of Nature or Forced Nature? Chapter 5

Hey guys, I’m back again with chapter 5 of my original story, Force of Nature or Forced Nature? It is also available on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________

"Do not worry. The Shadows are only truly dangerous to you if they can find leverage over you.

No matter what happens during your journey, you should never reveal any information aloud to anyone at any point, including your names."

"Well, that's just great! How are we supposed to do that?!" I guffawed abhorrently.

"I'm afraid that is all I can tell you for now. Good luck on your journey." The voice slowly faded away into a whisper.

"What? No, come back!" My sister begged frantically, ripping herself from my arms and running around the clearing trying to find the faded voice. "Hello? You can't just leave!"

I sighed heavily, somehow feeling thoroughly weary and utterly terrified all at once.

"I guess we're on our own now."

________________________________________________

It was too hot. The bright sun was beaming down on the forest trees without a cloud in sight. The trees were only absorbing the heat, making the air around us humid and almost unbearably thick.

My sister and I sat in the clearing in utter silence for a long time even after the voice had disappeared from our thoughts, wiped away from our minds almost like we had only ever imagined it in the first place.

The grass blanketing the clearing was much cooler in comparison than the rest of the forest, at least giving us some relief from the stifling weather.

My sister sobbed into my shoulder, still holding onto me with such a grip like her life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

I ran my hand up and down her back, my free hand running through her smooth, thick hair as I tried to soothe her. She had fallen silent a long time ago, but she still refused to move from her complacent position underneath my chin. I don't know which was harder for me to do- push down my tears or suppress another irate sigh from being audible- both sounded equally appealing to me at the moment.

But I couldn't do either.

I sighed internally instead, lightly patting my little sister on the back once more before standing up and plastering a grin across my face. I turned around with a quick huff and reached a hand out for her to take.

"Come on. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get out of this weird place." She took my hand and pulled herself up, unsuccessfully trying to wipe away her tears and pretend they weren't there.

She crossed her arms around her chest, tightly tucking in her hands in a self-hug. "Where are we going?" As I followed her line of sight, I realized every direction out of the clearing around us looked nearly identical.

I bit my lip painfully, my eye subtly twitching in my irritation.

Would it kill anyone to just place a big, obvious flashing sign with an arrow sometime? Of course not.

I sighed, facepalming for a brief moment. I rolled my eyes, gently placing one of my hands on her back and pushing her ahead of me so I could easily watch out for her. "Let's go this way for now." She huffed at me, clenching her small fists at her sides and pouting until I nudged her forward again.

The forest got denser and denser with thick trees as we walked deeper into the forest. The weather was even more unbearable without the opening of the trees above us in the clearing, but somehow, the heat almost felt good on my skin.

I wasn't sweating like I normally would be on a hot summer day back at home. I knew it was hot in the forest, but the feeling of the sunlight on my skin and the humidity around us started to feel amazing, almost like taking a hot shower on a cold night.

I looked over to my sister, finally realizing that her clothes had also changed since we arrived here. Her favorite pair of baby pink pajamas had somehow turned into a black hoodie and satin skirt laid neatly over a pair of dark purple leggings, with a pair of low-heeled black boots to top it off.

She has to be burning up, that sweatshirt must feel stifling.

"Aren't you getting too hot in that hoodie?" I grabbed her hand before she could go too far, but she only shook her head at me.

"No, I feel fine." She shrugged her hand out of my grasp and continued forward into the forest. "Can we get out of here now? This place is starting to give me the creeps." She whined adorably.

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp tingling pain in my hand. When I looked down, my fingers had turned bright red and started twinging like I had just stuck my hand in a cup of freezing water. Her hand had felt like ice in my grasp.

We continued walking for a few more hours, pressing on further despite how tired we were getting. At this point, my feet were agonizingly aching with each step I took.

So far, this entire quest of ours was utterly pointless. We weren't even sure what we were really looking for. The only thing we could really do now was just endlessly search for something to help us or guide us somewhere else that we were never going to find. The scenery around us barely changed at all. We hadn't even come across anything other than more trees, and occasionally a few hills dividing the forest into higher and lower levels.

I sighed, trying to swallow down my cynical thoughts and continued the hike up the hills ahead of us.

This definitely isn't the time or place to be cynical. I need to be strong right now, for the both of us.

My wrists still felt as if they were on fire, still just as raw and throbbing from the rope burns I had suffered as before, even as I rubbed at them. That only seemed to make the pain worse, the friction from my gloves rubbing against the sensitive skin only managing to re-irritate it. They started to bleed once again, small red droplets beading from the wounds and running down my wrist until they dropped down into the grass below me.

My sister looked over in concern, glancing uneasily at the red streaks dripping down my hands. I waved her off easily, trying to pull down my rolled up sleeves over my hands to hide them from view. I ruffled her chestnut bangs and grinned as she tried to bat my hands away. "It's okay, I'm fin-"

A shrill cry suddenly echoed in this distance, sounding only a few meters away from us.

"What was that?!" I turned to look at my sister beside me, as she jumped and grabbed onto my arm in a death grip, cowering into my side.

A group of bushes directly to the right of us began trembling suspiciously and whispers could be heard emitting from it.

"There it is again!" I yanked her entirely behind me, making sure she was pressed tightly against my back, her fingers clutched in my shirt, as I quickly backed away from the brushes.

A new, unexpected voice spoke up in the distance, getting louder as it got closer, "See, that's exactly why I told you to wait for me. Maybe if you had actually listened-" A different, younger voice interrupted the first.

"How was I supposed to know there was a hill there?" The voice whined loudly, clearly trying to nurse some type of injury.

The first voice spoke up again in it's smooth, light German accent, this time rising in volume. "Don't interrupt me! I'm just trying to keep you safe. We don't even know where we are right now, what if you had gotten mauled by a bear or something?! I told you to stay next to me, and you didn't listen, and look what happened! You can't just go running off just because you feel like it, A-"

"Hello? Who's there?" I asked warily, raising my voice and keeping a good distance from the bushes.

The owners of the voices finally peeked out of the bushes, heading in our direction. A head of long, golden blonde hair popped out from behind one of the trees before us, walking carefully through the thorn bushes as a much shorter and younger brunette boy followed closely behind her, still rubbing at a blossoming bruise on his elbow.

"Who the hell are you, exactly?" A pair of bright green eyes blinked suspiciously at me, pausing several feet away and refusing to move an inch closer, placing her manicured hand to push the boy back towards the bushes, further away from me.

She was dressed almost oddly, wearing a tied white blouse over her fitted lilac t-shirt. Faded denim shorts sat just above her mix-matched length black mesh leggings, and black heels that seemed far too uncomfortable for walking graced her feet.

Almost in an opposite nature, the young boy she was shielding behind her wore a simple black hoodie unzipped over a warm cotton grey sweater, accented by his casual black jeans and white and purple converse.

"I'm-" I quickly caught myself before I finished, blinking hard. I tried another approach instead, "Look, I could ask you the same thing!" I retorted. "What are you doing here?"

"How the hell should I know?" She retorted, an irritated snarl curling her lips up. "Maybe you should ask whoever thought it was a good idea to just drop us in the middle of nowhere. I don't know, just an idea!" Sarcasm was dripping from her tone like a deadly acid just waiting to snap at someone.

I shifted uncomfortably and glanced away, unable to handle the strength of her glare burning back at me. "Well, it's not like I know why we're here either." I bit back at her with the same viciousness. I was never one to back down from a fight, even ones I didn't start or had any business getting involved with. My dad always told me I was too much of a hothead.

I guess old habits die hard.

I nibbled on my bottom lip, turning back to her emerald gaze with even more fire burning behind my hazel one. "We didn't come here looking for any trouble, we don't even want to be here, period. So, why don't you just leave us alone?"

Fury blazed in her eyes. "You-"

"Woah, woah, wait!" The little brunette boy beside the girl shouted, pushing her hand off of his chest and walking between the two of us, trying to quell the tensions rising off of us.

"What is wrong with you guys?! Didn't you hear the voice?" When we stared at him blankly, blinking in confusion, he rolled his eyes and huffed loudly. "You know, the creepy, bodiless one; tried to scare us to death when it started talking in our heads; kind of hard to forget?"

He shook his head, getting back to his point. "The voice said we were going to meet four other people who we would be our friends! We aren't supposed to be biting each other's heads off! We're supposed to be helping each other."

"He's right!" My sister piped up, wrestling out of my tight grip to peer from around me. "We heard about that too." She looked up at me, silently pleading for me to let the issue go. I grunted in response and looked away.

She knows I can't refute her puppy dog eyes. I frowned.

When I finally looked back up at the blonde, She was glancing over at the boy in front of us before looking down at the ground in shame, kicking the dirt around in her embarrassment at being so spiteful.

After a long moment of silence, she spoke up in a much kinder tone. "I guess they're right. If we want to get out of this stupid forest, we need to be working together, not arguing. I'm sorry."

I sighed quietly, stroking the top of my sister's hair. "Look, I'm sorry too. It's just… It's been a long few hours."

She nodded, clearing her throat.

"Well, now that that's over with, I guess we should introduce ourselves." Looking up at me for permission first, my sister walked over to the brunette boy, and extended a hand between them with a watery smile gracing her freckled face. "Nice to meet you, I'm-"

I cut her off immediately, wrapping my hand around her mouth and shaking my head. "What are you doing?" I whispered loudly next to her ear.

She pushed me away, pursing her lips irately. She hated admitting I was right, although I normally was. "Well, we have to call each other something!" She whisper-yelled back to me.

The blonde girl piped up, clearly eavesdropping on our not-at-all quiet conversation. "What if we used fake names? That way we could call each other something, without any problems."

I pondered it for a moment, before nodding. It was the best alternative at the moment, and at least it would make things slightly easier.

"Any ideas?"

My sister tapped a finger on her chin, thinking of a good name to use. Finally, a lightbulb went off in her head and she grinned sweetly. "Oh, what about 'Abbie'? I think that's a good name, don't you?"

I smiled back at her, my eyes crinkling at the edges. "I think that's a great name."

It suits her perfectly.

The brunette boy piped up next to her, snapping his fingers in satisfaction. "I like 'Alex'."

The blonde walked up behind him, closing off the small circle we had formed. "You can call me… 'Emma'. I think that's a good one."

Everyone turned to stare over at me next, awaiting my answer. I blinked blankly back at them, unsure what to say. I thought long and hard for a name that would suit me, before a thought popped in my head about an old tale I had heard once as a child. My lip twitched briefly as I finally settled on the perfect name. I coughed briefly to clear my throat, and answered. "'Kai.' You can call me 'Kai.'"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew my life wouldn't be the same after today.

#fonofn #force of nature or forced nature?#My writing #my stories #my original work #my original fiction #tw: blood

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sanders-sides-fics · 6 years ago

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Fated: Chapter Five

Thank you to my betas @wolf-ink and @why-should-i-tell-youu2 ! They’re amazing!!

Warnings: Fae, kidnapping, guilt. There shouldn’t be a lot in this chapter, but let me know if I missed any!!

AO3

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,719

Roman regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. No two words should have such power over him, but as Roman approached his horse, he felt as if he would be sick. The remains of the words felt vile on his tongue and Roman knew if he were to turn around, he’d be faced with Virgil’s broken expression.

Roman had to do it. He didn’t want Virgil to return to his family, to be married off as some treasure in exchange for land, but there wasn’t much else of a choice. Roman had no way of rescuing Virgil from the mage who took him. The most he could do was change the situation.

Once the mage left with Virgil, Roman could follow and rescue Virgil. Roman wouldn’t risk Virgil’s safety by trying to attack the mage while Virgil was in that sort of danger. The mage had nearly dropped Virgil . . . Roman couldn’t get Virgil’s petrified face out of his head. He promised to protect Virgil and failed.

Roman sighed as he adjusted the saddlebags on his horse. He looked down and spotted the flower crown he weaved for Virgil at lunch. It had fallen off of Virgil’s head when the mage grabbed him. Roman picked the crown off the ground and held it in his hands, eyes transfixed on it. The fall made the chain start to unravel when Roman had been so sure it was perfect.

Behind Roman, Virgil let out a scream and Roman could not force himself to stay still. He whipped around to see the mage leap out of the tree with Virgil in his arms. Roman wanted to run forward even with the knowledge he could do nothing to stop Virgil from falling to his death. How could he abandon Virgil to this fate?

Halfway to the ground, their fall slowed and began a steady descent. The breeze caused the mage to sway on his way to the ground. When the mage's feet touched the ground and he looked back at Roman with a smirk. He hefted Virgil up, getting a better grip on the Prince, who no longer struggled, but willingly stayed slack on his shoulder.

Virgil didn't even look up at Roman as the mage began to walk away, a swing to his step.

Roman looked down at the ground in shame. He didn't know how long he needed to wait until it was safe to follow. It couldn't be too soon or too late. If he was getting Virgil back, he had to time it correctly.

As the mage walked away, he paused and glanced back. He smiled at Roman and waved his hand, to say goodbye. It started before Roman could realize what was happening. The mage disappeared before his eyes, taking Virgil with him. The Fated string fell slack to the ground.

“No!”

Roman ran forward to where the mage once stood, but the mage was nowhere in sight. The man had simply vanished.

No! No! No!

Roman glanced down at the string that connected him to Virgil and took a section of it in his hand. He hoped it held some sort of answer. If it led him to Virgil once, it could lead him to Virgil once more. It had to!

It wasn't fair to Virgil to promise him safety and then immediately lose him to danger. Virgil deserved better than that.

Roman ran to his horse and saddled it quick, before heading in the direction of Umbra. It was the only logical place the mage would take Virgil. If Roman could get there on time, he could rescue Virgil and- and- Roman didn't know, but he'd fight the entire Umbrian guard to save Virgil.

Whether or not Virgil's original engagement was followed through, Roman had to save him. From what he gathered, the King was not kind, even to his own heirs. And being a pawn in his father's game was not Virgil's fate. Not if Roman could help it.

As Roman rode on, the string remained slack. Was Roman going in the wrong direction? He was positive that Umbra was that way. He knew it was! And where else would the mage take Virgil when he wanted the bounty!

Roman urged his steed to go faster and kept his eyes trained on the string. There had to be some explanation to the string's sudden slack behavior. No story Roman had ever heard told of a Fated string that went slack. Not in the unresponsive way his and Virgil's was.

Something was wrong.

Could the mage have severed their connection? No. The string was invisible to mortals it didn’t connect. Only Virgil and Roman could see their connection.

And even if such magic existed, Roman would know of it. As a child, he spent a lot of time reading of Fated and their bonds. Nothing like this was described in the books he read, nor in the stories his father's told him. This was entirely new.

The mage might not have done anything, but there was something very wrong with the string.

Roman would give anything for it to move. For it to pull him in the direction he needed to go. To drag him into a trap, where his Fated lied in wait. Roman couldn't bear the knowledge that he let his Fated down. That he was the reason his Fated was in danger.

Roman thought back to all the string's actions since its reveal. It forced him and Virgil together when they didn't want to be. When they met, Virgil wanted to run, but it didn't let him. It forced them to share the bed in the Inn. Kept them together this entire time. And now that Roman wanted to find his Fated?

Nothing.

Roman groaned in frustration and kept his pace as he continued on. He knew he'd have to stop again soon. He couldn't force his horse to run nonstop, as much as he wanted to continue on until Virgil was safe once more.

His steed gave a tired whine and slowed his pace. Roman sighed and allowed him to slow down. He needed his horse healthy to make an escape once he saved Virgil. Or else, they would both end up captives.

What Roman was doing was risky. If he actively stole from Umbra, it could ruin the treaty his fathers worked so hard to secure. Roman could argue that rescuing a person didn't count as theft but knew the possibility was there. If Umbra's King wanted a war, he would have the perfect excuse.

Roman felt a sudden tug, unlike any the Fated string, had provided before. He let out a cry as the string harshly pulled him off his horse and dragged him away, into the woods.

"What the-!"

Roman pulled back at the string, trying to keep it from pulling his arm out of his socket. It dragged him over tree roots, through mud, patches of dirt, mushrooms, and flowers. The prince coughed as he received a mouthful of daisies.

When the string stopped again, Roman found himself in the middle of a circle. Around the circle all the grass was dead and only this patch was left living. He stood up quickly and wiped off his outfit. It was undignified to appear in such a state, even alone in the middle of the woods.

"Well, what do we have here? A young prince with a simple string?"

A voice tsked from within the trees. Roman tensed and glanced around. He glanced down at the circle he stood in and his blood ran cold.

Oh. Pop was going to kill him.

Roman didn’t speak as he searched the trees for the voice. He refused to accidentally make a deal. Fae were tricky and Roman would not fall prey to such tricks. Not when he had a Fated to save.

Out of the trees, stepped the Fae. Their figure was plump and their skin impossibly smooth. Thin lips coiled into a smile as eyes twinkled with sinister intentions.

“Well, young prince, do you wish to make a deal?”

Roman shook his head.

“Why else would your string have brought you here?”

Roman glanced to the string around his finger. He knew Fae could see the string. It was possible the string wanted him to make a deal . . . or the Fae manipulated the string to draw Roman here. Could a Fae do that?

“There is nothing I want from you, Fae.”

Roman spoke clearly. He stepped out of the circle and backed away from the Fae. He wasn’t safe yet.

“Surely, there is something I could help you with. It won’t cost much. Perchance, your name? It is merely a simple word, young prince, there is no harm,” the Fae cooed.

“No!” Roman exclaimed. “I am aware of your tricks and the meaning of names. You cannot have my name. I will not give it!”

Roman unsheathed his sword. It was steel. Steel was made from iron. Pop had drilled into his head that his sword an invaluable tool for surviving an encounter with the Fae.

The Fae let out a hiss at the sight and moved back into the trees. Once the Fae disappeared, Roman didn’t put his sword away. He could feel their eyes on him, or perhaps it was paranoia. Either way, it was safer to continue with his sword ready.

Roman glanced around. His horse was nowhere in sight. The string dragged him far from it. Roman had to walk back to find his horse, he couldn’t continue on without it. The journey would take too long and make a rescue impossible.

As he turned to walk back the way he came, the string gave him another sharp tug. The tug jolted him back and made him land on his rear. He groaned and pulled on the string, but it remained taut.

“Seriously! Now you work!” Roman shouted in annoyance.

The string tugged him more harshly in response.

“Fine. Walking it is!”

Roman was pulled up by another sharp tug, stumbling to his feet. He glared at the red string, unable to stop it as it pulled him forward. The damned thing was going to make him continue without his horse and supplies!

The string gave a tug to hasten his pace and Roman followed.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #my fics #soulmate au #fantasy au #kidnapping tw #fae tw #red string au #I FORGOT THE TAGS WHEN I FIRST POSTED THIS

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vitanes · 6 years ago

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say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 4: you’re surprising

Lucas feels weird after the events of Friday and his head is a mess. Manon is back from London, there’s some mural painting and Lucas figures out that Arthur has a crush on Eliott. Oh, he also gains a new friend.

There’s nearly complete darkness accompanied by flickering lights every few seconds that change accordingly to the beat of the music currently playing. The air smells of sweat and something heavy, hard to determine. Masses of bodies are moving, lost in the dance.

And there’s Lucas, standing in the middle of it all, his lips parted and legs frozen in place. He gulps.

These hooded eyes are boring into him, sending sparks all over his body. They are piercing through him and he lets them. Lucas seems to be unable to look away. In truth, he doesn’t want to do so, the pull so strong he can barely breathe. It’s suffocating, but in a way that’s addicting.

Lucas gasps when Eliott steps closer, leaving mere centimetres between them. He can feel Eliott’s damp exhales on his skin. There’s something consuming in the way he’s watching Lucas and Lucas wants more. He reaches out and his finger grazes Eliott’s wrist, the smooth skin over his pulse point. Eliott’s pupils dilate in an almost cartoonish way after the touch and Lucas is entranced by how he feels like he could literally fall into those deep black pools.

He wants to fall.

So he takes a leap forward and does just that. There’s no Eliott, no party, no tantalising stare. Just overwhelming darkness. Lucas can’t see a single thing and his heart speeds up.

“Silly, just open your eyes,” someone whispers into his ear.

Oh.

He blinks and gets an eyeful of colours and a face planted on his. He realises he’s kissing someone and takes another few seconds to notice who that is. The chick from the party, she’s licking into his lips with passion and Lucas looks up in panic, searching for someone that could save him from being eaten alive.

Lucas meets these eyes again and gets a feeling of déjà vu. He tilts his head to the side in confusion and Chloé moans into his mouth.

He doesn’t want to kiss her. Lucas closes and opens his eyes again in hopes that she’d be gone and much to his relief, finds out there’s someone else in her place now. Then, he yelps when Eliott moves his hands up Lucas’ neck and cups his face, deepening the kiss. It feels hot and Lucas doesn’t know where to put his own palms so he rests them against Eliott’s chest.

Lucas is woken up by loud and rapid breathing, a whine coming deep from within his throat. His eyes flutter open and he sits up. There are drops of sweat rolling down his back and his heart can’t quite slow down. After getting his bearings, though, the initial horror dissipates just to make a place for nauseating realisation when Lucas notices a problem when he looks down.

Fuck.

He drags his hand down his face, making an embarrassing noise while he’s at it and falls down against his pillow. He can’t fucking believe his body reacted like that to a dream about a guy he despises.

At the memory of the dream, he hides his face in his palms. It’s been two days since the party and whatever the fuck this eye contact with Eliott was. And apparently, it’s fucking with Lucas in ways he hadn't imagined were possible.

Just how exactly is he supposed to look Eliott in the eyes without the same sensation from Friday and tons of questions? Especially after dreaming of kissing him. It’ll be written all over Lucas’ face and he’s not going to survive that.

He gets out of the bed, planting his feet on the cold floor and shivers at the contact. He figures out he’ll go for a pee if he’s already up and takes his steps out of his room, towards the toilet.

Lucas stops in the middle upon hearing low and hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He can recognise one as Mika’s, but the second one, even though familiar, doesn’t ring a bell that quickly.

He listens more intently.

“–why I came here. Would it be okay if I stayed in the flat up until I find something for myself?” Oh, it’s Manon. It’s definitely her. Manon is back, but why? She sounds tired and a bit as if she was crying.

“Yeah, sure. We can arrange everything tomorrow, now you should go to sleep and rest.” Lucas hears a watery sigh coming from Manon and some commotion soon after, followed by Mika getting closer to the door.

Shit. Lucas literally runs towards the toilet and locks himself in.

What a fucking ride, he thinks. And there’s more to come.

***

Palms sweating, Lucas is waiting with the boys in front of the school for the first bell to ring. It’s a windy morning and he pulls his hood up, deliberately avoiding looking anywhere close Eliott. While doing so, he notices that his eyes move over to him rather too often. He’s doing a terrible job at containing himself.

He coughs when Eliott catches his eye and looks away. Checks his notifications to busy himself and scowls when there’s nothing.

Okay, so there’s nothing to overthink. It’s not like he’s suddenly into Eliott. But, objectively speaking Eliott is an attractive guy and Lucas is into boys, no matter how much he denies that. Lucas was also drunk and trying to play a straight person. Eliott was simply conveniently there for Lucas to project his desires on. It’s logical.

“The party on Friday was wild,” Basile says out of nowhere and Lucas’ head snaps up. He looks towards Eliott and Eliott gazes back at him. As if they shared a secret.

Someone nudges Lucas in the ribs and he yelps.

“You went hard with that girl, dude. Did you two,” Yann stops, a smirk tugging at his lips. He wiggles his eyebrows.

“We just kissed,” Lucas mumbles to explain himself.

Thankfully, that’s as far as they got. The moment her palm went down and started pressing against his crotch, Lucas excused himself to the toilet and soon after, left. She probably thinks he’s the biggest asshole who ditched her and will never want to speak to him again–

“Hey, Lucas!” Chloé pops up right in front of his eyes and before he can react, kisses both of his cheeks. Oh, God. He summoned her. “Friday was fun, we should do it sometime soon,” she says excitedly and winks at him. Then, she just disappears with her friends. Like that. Leaving Lucas appalled.

“That was bold,” Arthur comments, looking after her.

“We’ve literally only kissed,” Lucas mutters, realising he might have brought even more problems on himself.

“Yeah, but she’s into you. And now when she knows you’re into her?” Yann shakes his head.

Lucas sighs in exasperation and sees Eliott’s amusement out of the corner of his eye. He squints. What’s so funny, now?

“Anyways, Manon is back,” he says offhandedly, to change the topic.

“Huh? Wasn’t she in London?” Yann asks, frowning.

“Yeah. They broke up.” Lucas shrugs.

In the morning, Mika took both him and Lisa to the kitchen and told them that a)Manon and Charles broke up, b)she was staying in the living room for the time being, and c)they shouldn’t ask any questions. They simply nodded since there wasn’t anything else they could have done. But it’s suspicious she’s come back, unannounced, in the middle of the night and they had no other option but to guess.

Well, at the very least no one told Lucas to give up his room to Manon. A brief thought like that passed his mind at some point since Lisa and Mika have known Manon longer. But it wouldn’t make sense if he’s paying for his place there, right? Or well, is trying to pay. It’s not his fault that his father is an asshole and there’s a blackmailer demanding money every week.

“That sucks,” Yann eventually comments. One can think so. It’s not like you could expect anything splendid from Charles.

“Guys, when are we going to take care of the mural?” Basile chimes in.

“Wednesday?” Arthur suggest, looking all over them.

“Wednesday is good,” Eliott agrees and Lucas’ eyes jump to him. Eliott sends Lucas a tiny, barely there, smile and Lucas honest to God blushes.

Why is this guy like that?

“Ok, so Wednesday,” Yann says and they all nod.

***

So that was a fucking lie. Eliott is not there on Wednesday and they are standing in the middle of the common room like some kind of buffoons, staring at the wall and the cans of paint.

“Let’s just paint it,” Lucas eventually says, when it’s been over half an hour and Eliott hasn’t responded to a single text Arthur sent him.

“But Eliott is the artist and we are his tools,” Basile declares solemnly and Lucas rolls his eyes.

Maybe he’d hate Eliott less if his friends didn’t worship him this much.

“What about your unicorns and shit?”

“I’ve seen Eliott’s art and I can honestly say I don’t want to disrupt his genius with that.”

“We have to paint it white first anyway, we can manage that without him,” Lucas says and looks towards Arthur and Yann. Then, he proceeds to reach for the white paint can and a brush. He isn’t going to wait for them and waste more time waiting for Eliott, especially since Lucas knows he won’t come. When does he ever?

“You’re angry,” Arthur notices when Lucas starts painting.

“No shit,” he mutters and his moves get slightly frantic.

The air between him and Eliott has been weird, but Eliott hasn’t shown a single indication that anything has changed since Friday. And it’s not like Lucas wants him to, nothing has happened after all. But it makes his skin crawl and leaves him irritated for some reason. How come Eliott skips school when Lucas keeps replaying that scene over and over again in his mind?

He thought that if they spent more time, painting that mural, Lucas would get over those weird sensations and could stay being solely hostile towards Eliott. But no, of course, nothing ever goes according to his plans.

“Um, why’s Lucas trying to murder that wall? I mean the mural is hideous, but he’s splashing the paint all over the place.”

Lucas stops and turns around at the sound of Imane’s voice. He feels stupid when it’s not only the boys but also Imane, Daphne, Alexia and Emma witnessing his little scene.

“He’s got a lot of pent up energy,” Arthur jokes and reaches for a brush himself. He sends Lucas a meaningful look before he, too, starts painting.

“Weren’t you supposed to do that with Eliott?” Daphne asks, concerned.

“Apparently, he hasn’t come to school today,” Yann says, unbothered, and joins Arthur and Lucas.

Soon enough, Basile begins working alongside them and it feels just like the old times when they were a team. Lucas relaxes in an instant and breathes out.

“We will cover the wall in white and see what Eliott has in store later,” Lucas explains and gets a synchronized hum from the girls. “Don’t worry, we can’t make it any worse.” He smirks under his nose.

“You could paint a dick,” Alexia says.

“That wouldn’t make it worse,” Emma teases.

Lucas snorts. His anger levels have gone from very high to pretty stable in just under five minutes.

***

Painting a huge wall with your friends might be plenty of fun, Lucas thinks, but when everything is over and he’s back in the flat, his arms sore as fuck, he has to admit he isn’t sure the aftermath is worth it. They covered the whole thing in white, their clothes have got some splashes on them as well. It was successful, despite Eliott’s absence, but still. Lucas feels drained now.

And he can’t even plop down on the couch and take a power nap like he’d normally do, with Manon’s stuff on it.

He sits down on an armchair, though. It’s soft as well.

Just as he gets comfortable, Manon enters the room. They’ve barely talked since she’s appeared and Lucas assumes they’ll simply chill around each other. But then Manon opens her mouth as she takes her place on the couch.

“Have fun?” she asks, nodding towards his stained t-shirt. He looks down on himself and sighs. Let’s hope he’ll be able to wash it away.

“Yeah. We’ve been painting over the mural in the common room. You’ve probably seen it,” he says, pressing his hand to his forehead and yawning.

“Um, no, I haven’t,” she admits, fidgeting in place and one of Lucas’ eyebrows goes up.

“The girls haven’t dragged you there, yet?”

“They don’t know I’m back.”

Oh, that’s surprising.

“Why not? Not even Emma?”

Manon shakes her head and looks down on her lap. “They’d ask me questions and look at me the way I really don’t need right now. So they don’t know. I need a couple of days to myself first.”

Lucas understands. Sort of. Sometimes solitude is the best option. Like, friends caring is great but they can get overbearing when it’s about something you aren’t keen on sharing. It’s still weird, the fact they all think Manon is in London, but it’s her decision whether she wants to reveal the truth now or wait a little longer. Lucas can only offer his support.

“Well, in that case, I’m glad I haven’t let it slip around the girls.”

Technically, he mentioned it to his friends, but it doesn’t mean they paid much attention or that they’ll spread it around. If Yann and Emma were still together, there’d be a likelihood of him telling her, but well. The secret is quite safe.

She smiles at him briefly, before her expression shifts into one of concern. “Mika told me you’ve been having problems with money. Is everything alright?”

Can Mika shut up for once in his life? Lucas can feel irritation flaring up inside him.

“I told him I’ll handle it. I just need some time,” Lucas says. He knows he can’t prolong not paying the rent forever, but for now, he doesn’t have any other choice.

“Hey, hey,” Manon reaches out and tilts his chin up to have him look at her. “No one’s mad at you and it’s not about money. We’re worried about you, that’s all. We want to help you, okay?” she asks, softly and brushes her fingers over his cheek before pulling away, her eyes still glued to his face.

It’s pitiful, how everyone acts like he’s that poor kid that can’t manage anything himself. What’s worse is that they’re right.

“I appreciate that,” he clears his throat, “I’ll tell you if something happens. Really,” he promises and his voice doesn’t wobble upon uttering this lie.

If he genuinely was going to speak up, he’d have done it weeks ago.

***

“Eliott’s been MIA since Tuesday, it’s unnerving,” Arthur says, gathering some rice onto his fork.

As much as Lucas was angry the day before, he’s pretty unaffected now. He doesn’t care whether Eliott will appear or not. Whatever. He’s already over this moment they shared last Friday, he still hates him and wishes he was gone entirely.

“Maybe he’s changed schools again,” he suggests, chewing on a piece of meat.

“I doubt that,” Arthur replies, a tinge of concern audible in his voice. Lucas narrows his eyes at him. Why’s he so worried? It’s not like Eliott hasn’t skipped school before without giving them heads up. Not even Yann and Basile seem to be bothered by it. Sure they aren’t happy, but Arthur is on a whole new level. He’s probably flooded Eliott’s DMs by now. “Last times, he’d at least answer my texts after some time.”

One moment Lucas is confused and in the next one he has an epiphany of the century and he sits up straighter. How could it slip his mind? How come he hasn’t realised it earlier? Arthur must have a crush on Eliott, hence all the excessive worrying. And who knows, maybe they have a thing? That would explain why Arthur feels so entitled to Eliott replying to him. All of that seems possible, especially with how close they seemed to be from the very beginning. Like yeah, sure, Yann likes Eliott, Basile idolises him to an unhealthy level, but Arthur and Eliott? They seem much more like equals, texting each other privately and shit. Arthur being Eliott’s to go whenever he wants them to know something, always sitting together, having the most natural flow of the conversation. Lucas wants to congratulate and pat himself on the back for figuring it out.

And now Eliott doesn’t feel like at least letting Arthur know if everything is okay. What a dick.

“Oh,” Yann lets out which brings Lucas back from his thoughts.

They all turn their heads to where Yann is looking towards and here he is, looming over them. Eliott is standing next to Lucas’ left, anxiously looking over them, pale and with dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders are drawn up and he seems tense. On edge.

“Hey, man. You okay?” Yann recovers first and kicks the chair next to Lucas to indicate that Eliott should sit down. Eliott eyes the chair for a long moment, the muscles in his jaw working. Then, after what looks like having a debacle whether to sit down or not, he joins the table.

His elbow brushes Lucas’ and for a moment Lucas stops breathing.

He’s watching Eliott out of the corner of his eye, as are the rest of them.

“I’m fine. I wasn’t feeling too well lately,” he curtly explains, keeping his eyes on each of them for a split second. Lucas has a feeling Eliott doesn’t want to hold longer eye contact with none of them. He is hesitant and opens his mouth a couple of times before saying anything. “I know we were supposed to paint the mural together and I fucked up. I want to make it up to you. All of you,” he glances briefly at Lucas, “I was thinking we could chill at mine? Tomorrow? I have the beer and a big TV with a console, so,” he says, his voice composed.

“Hell yeah, bro. Let’s hang out. And Lucas has our reserved stash of weed, doesn’t he? It’ll be nice,” Arthur says, a reassuring smile stretching his lips. Lucas is a little disgusted with how obvious he is.

“Yeah,” Yann agrees. “And don’t beat yourself over it. Happens to the best of us.”

��We’re going to come,” Basile declares, grinning.

Then, all pairs of eyes move towards Lucas who’s been sitting quietly from the second this whole ordeal started.

“Well, I guess I’ll come, too,” he mutters, his voice filled with defeat. He’s forced to do that, don’t let anyone fool you.

And if he notices how Eliott lights up when he hears Lucas’ words, he doesn’t think anything of it.

***

There’s a small bag of weed tucked safely in his backpack, his phone is charged to one hundred percent and he is ready to knock on the door to Eliott’s flat. He sighs and tentatively raps his knuckles against the wood, hoping that he isn’t the first one to arrive. He can’t bear being with Eliott in the same room and having to strike up a conversation with him without anyone else around.

He hears steps approaching the door, the knob turns and then he’s faced with Eliott, smiling down on him. Lucas looks to the side.

“Come in,” Eliott says and steps back. Lucas bites down on his bottom lip and gets inside.

He’s met with quiet and it’s then that his gut tells him something isn’t right.

“No one else has come yet?” he asks, following Eliott to the living room. Eliott points him to the couch and takes his jacket to put it in the other room.

“Nope. Just you and me,” he says when he comes back and sits on an armchair across the couch. “I thought you’d all come together.” He shrugs, leaning comfortably against the back of the armchair.

Lucas swallows, his fingers drumming over his knee. “Well, I was sure they’d already be here,” he mutters, looking around.

The place is spacious. Despite the lights being dimmed, it doesn’t feel suffocating. Looks pretty cosy.

“This place yours?” he asks, his eyes catching on some drawings hung on the wall.

“Yeah. My parents are paying, though. And visit pretty often. But other than that, it’s my space.”

“No nosy flatmates,” Lucas notices and gets a snort in return. He looks back at Eliott and clamps his mouth shut upon having Eliott’s eyes already glued to him. God, what’s this guy’s deal?

Lucas checks the time and it’s well past 7pm.

“You think they’ll come very late?” Eliott asks.

“Who knows,” Lucas mumbles. That small talk is exhausting, he isn’t sure he can take it much longer. Where’s Arthur and his heart eyes when they are needed?

His phone buzzes and he unlocks the screen. Speak of the devil.

Arthur: Guys, I completely forgot I promised my grandma to go to a concert with her :/

Basile: my mom flipped and I can’t come either, sorry

Yann: my cousins are over and I can’t skip a family dinner rip

Lucas’ throat goes dry. All of them fucking cancelled and didn’t even think of informing them earlier. Scratch Lucas calling Eliott irresponsible for ditching the mural appointment. This, right there, is the peak of immaturity. Who even does that?

“So I guess we were ditched,” Eliott comments and it’s only then that Lucas realises he’s pulled his phone out as well and has been reading the messages. He seems upset. That much is obvious, going by the way his lips are curled downwards. He doesn’t even move his eyes towards Lucas, probably expecting him to leave in a second.

And fine, okay, Lucas doesn’t like the guy, he’s got valid reasons, but he isn’t a dick. No, that’s Eliott. He’s seen the way Eliott was anxious to invite them over or how hopeful he was when they all agreed. There are snacks laid out on the table and untouched cans of beer underneath it.

Lucas feels obliged to stay, even if it’s awkward and literally the last thing he wants to do. It’s just that Eliott looks so crestfallen and Lucas would feel guilty leaving him like that.

He unzips his backpack and pulls the bag with weed out. “I guess there’s more for us then?” he asks, hoping he sounds more confident than like he’s forced to do that.

Eliott looks up at him, glances towards the bag and back at Lucas, a tiny smile blooming over his lips.

***

Lucas has expected things to be stilted between them. To smoke one joint and politely leave. And even though, at first there wasn’t any natural flow to their conversation – or at some point no conversation at all – they’ve somehow found themselves lying on the floor of Eliott’s living room, talking about the dumbest shit and giggling at it like a pair of middle schoolers.

They are lying next to each other, but upside down. If Lucas turned his head to the left, his nose would probably brush Eliott’s cheek. He has a brief thought about how it’s similar to a Spiderman kiss and snorts before he takes another drag.

“Hey, I was wondering. Why do you hate me so much?” Eliott asks close to Lucas’ ear.

Lucas splutters. “I don’t hate you. It’s such a strong word. I dislike you.”

Eliott laughs. “Ouch. What did I do?”

“You’re this cool mysterious guy appearing out of nowhere and my friends are instantly up your ass. Go figure.”

Eliott reaches his hand out and flicks Lucas on the nose. “You’re jealous.”

“So what,” he mumbles, tapping the joint against the side of the ashtray.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of, though. These guys love you. Before we met, they’d be like just wait ‘til you meet Lucas, he’s so cool. I was very excited to finally get to know the Lucas.”

Something squeezes at Lucas’ chest and he feels warm all over. “They really said that?” he asks in a small voice.

“Yeah. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d heard a lot about you,” Eliott says, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke at the same time. “I’m just some guy and you’re their buddy. Don’t forget that,” he adds and ruffles Lucas’ hair reassuringly. Lucas doesn’t even pay attention to the fact he doesn’t take his hand back, his fingers staying entangled in the strands of Lucas’ hair.

“I don’t think you’re just a guy. I’m pretty sure Baz would name his firstborn after you and Arthur’s got a crush on you.” He shuts his mouth immediately after uttering the last words. Smoking really makes his brain-to-mouth filter malfunction. What if Eliott doesn’t know and he’s just revealed Arthur’s secret? God, he’s an awful friend.

“What?” Eliott asks, bafflement audible in his voice.

“Nothing, I didn’t say a thing,” Lucas says and chuckles nervously.

“Okay.” Eliott doesn’t sound convinced, but he leaves the topic as it is and Lucas relaxes again. That was close.

***

They smoke, they talk more. And then, Lucas notices a piano standing in one corner of the room and sits up immediately, frowning.

“You play?”

Eliott props himself up on his elbows and looks in the direction Lucas is pointing towards. He takes a sip of his beer and hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes. My mom’s a pianist. She thought I should learn, too. But it’s been so long since I played anything more than the Star Wars theme,” he mumbles, squinting.

Lucas’ pulse speeds up and he excitedly jumps to his feet. “Let’s play,” he says, tugging Eliott up to a standing position. It takes a little effort, but eventually, he succeeds and drags Eliott towards the stool in front of the piano. They sit down. There’s barely enough room for two people and their sides are pressed up against each other but they manage.

Eliott raises the lid up and plays a couple of notes. Lucas joins him on the other side of the keyboard. Whatever they are playing is messy as fuck and Eliott laughs.

“You aren’t an expert either, huh?” he teases.

Lucas doesn’t answer, but lets his fingers find the familiar rhythm and the first notes of the song he’s learned long time ago start playing. He gets deeper and deeper into it, playing out the whole thing. Eliott has long taken his fingers off the keyboard, focusing on the side of Lucas’ face instead. It doesn’t bother Lucas as much as it’d have before, not when he’s trying his best to follow the music.

The song comes to an end, eventually, and then Lucas’s fingers smoothly move over to a melody from some TV ad. He fucks up in the middle which makes Eliott crack up and he tries to help him out. As a result, they create their own chaotic piece accompanied by their cackles. They spend long minutes having fun with the piano and each other and it’s the most enjoyable thing Lucas has done in what feels like weeks.

He retracts his hands to brush his hair away from his forehead and Eliott stops playing as well, his eyes moving away from piano tiles towards Lucas’ face.

“You’re surprising. I like surprising people,” he blurts out, a dreamy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Lucas feels himself blushing and clears his throat. Wow, he needs to drink something.

He stands up and steps towards the couch. Plops down on it, lacking the grace he usually possesses, and grabs a beer for himself. He’s dizzy and warm and drinks half of the beer at once, Eliott’s words echoing in the back of his mind. What did he mean by that?

It doesn’t take long for Eliott to come up to the couch as well and plant himself next to Lucas, their shoulders brushing.

“We should be a piano duet,” he says.

“Yeah, I’ll play complicated songs and you will press on a key once in a while,” Lucas replies, putting his beer down. He turns towards Eliott and finds him watching him back. It shouldn’t be anything to Lucas at this point, but each time their eyes lock, it’s just as nerve-wracking as the first time. Especially that Eliott is so hard to figure out.

“That would be fun,” Eliott says, his eyes falling down on Lucas’ face and then back up. “You’d make it fun,” he slurs.

Lucas bites on the side of his cheek and glances away. Eliott is weird on Fridays and by association, Lucas gets weird as well, that’s the conclusion he reaches. Definitely.

***

The couch feels nice, is comfortable. Much better than the one at his flat. If Lucas could, he’d bury himself deeper into the soft plush.

They haven’t moved ever since their little piano session. It might have happened a minute or one eternity ago. Lucas doesn’t mull over it. He’s chill. Eliott is chill. They’re chill.

“You know, you aren’t that bad,” Lucas admits at some point, his foot repeatedly knocking into Eliott’s ankle.

“Oh, wow, thank you. Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore? Can we be friends?” Eliott asks, his voice airy and doing things to Lucas’ head.

“Sure. But you’re on thin ice.” Let’s hope that sober Lucas doesn’t hate that idea as much as high Lucas loves it. Spending this evening with Eliott has been so good, Lucas can’t quite believe it. No one asked him if he’s okay, looked at him with concern. He could just forget about everything that’s been making him miserable lately. That’s the kind of solace he’s been searching for. And he’s found it in Eliott’s presence. Who would have expected?

“Nice.” Eliott pulls his phone out and whistles. “It’s almost one.”

Lucas has arrived here around 7pm. Oh, how the time flies.

“I should get going.” He tries to sit up but to no avail.

“You can stay. I’ll bring you the sheets. The couch is comfortable to sleep on,” Eliott offers. His tone indicates that he’s speaking from the experience.

Lucas only hesitates for a moment. Staying the night on a Friday night at your new friend’s flat sounds plausible. Normal. And the couch is really fucking soft. “Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll bring the stuff in a moment.”

Lucas hums, feeling his lids growing heavier. He’ll close them for a second. Enough time for Eliott to bring him a pillow and a blanket. Just let them rest for a brief moment.

#elu #elu fanfic #skam france #skam france fanfic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #lucas x eliott

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skinfeeler · 5 years ago

Text

meandering diary post, or the melancholic tale of my 24-hour completely onesided romance in the context of the human condition

[[MORE]]

i've been a member of a student organisation for queer people for about half a year now. this means that i hadn't attended an introductory period yet — once an academic year, at the start of it — but that i knew basically everyone who organised it.

after a few days of miscellaneous activities that were mostly 'okay' (minus a drunk fall of my bike at some point) i knew a couple more people. still, it was nothing like the summer camp at the end of it.

the first 90% of the journey was by train. i shared four seats facing each other with three other people, including a girl who was slightly taller and a bit older than me. she had brought a wine bottle and so it happened that the four of us already started drinking at about 15, not even at the camp yet.

we got along though— especially this girl and i. we talked a bunch about the kinds of exercise/sports we like. she was my second round that day in explaining the rules of roller derby, i can do it in about 20 seconds now with the help of the images from the 'basics' section of this article: http://mtlrollerderby.com/the-rules-of-roller-derby/?lang=en w

e also talked about gender a bit. it went all right. we had a later conversation in our bunk that day where we really bonded, about trauma too and all that stuff.

"we have a bond, i think."

that was later though, for now i was still on my way. at some point i turned inwards as i sometimes do and during one of the transfers while outside she pulled me away and asked me if i was all right. i explained that i just have a few issues and that sometimes they played up. she gave me the big scarf she was wearing and told me to put it over my head and narrow my field of vision that way, just kind of hide in it. that that's what she does when she's not well. that was nice of her.

we missed the train-bus connection because we went to the supermarket of the small remote village to buy more wine, but we got picked up by a second bus a bit later.

once at the place i changed into a sexier outfit and instantly felt more confident. this was immediately crushed once people started making (completely benign) jokes about std tests. i started thinking about my own test and the rape that happened before it and just went sit somewhere with a beer bottle to be sad. one of the people who i knew was an organiser but didn't personally know asked me if i was all right and i stood up and tried to ask if we could go outside for a bit, but didn't manage to speak because i was already crying. fortunately he understood the cue. i told him about that i got triggered and he made sure to make it clear to me that the committee would do its best to look after me if i allowed him to tell that sometimes i get like this, with them not having to know what exactly. i took him up on the offer, and it helped that subsequently an organiser would occasionally come to me when i lost my vibe, which was quite often.

but in that moment just knowing people actually take it seriously was enough, and i told him that the best thing now would probably just be to rejoin the party and chug my beer, and so we returned inside and so i did.

a while later i lost a good portion of my energy again. in a fateful moment, i decided to go back to my room which i shared with others. my new friend was talking about speed with another girl, who ended up giving it to us.

"i'm done with this crap. you can have it if you want to."

i don't have the required associations to procure anything like this myself, so i thought i'd not pass up on the opportunity.

the four of us went back downstairs.

first i was cold, tired, and dull. now i possessed immense warmth, energy, and clarity, almost immediately.

i asked my friend if this is about what i should be feeling. she told me it was, but also immediately switched to her more caring tone and that i should be careful.

"if you ever want to try something, you can always do it at my place."

sounds like a fucked up bid to get me in a vulnerable situation, but given the context and her general conduct i am certain she really was just caring about me in a slightly dark way.

there were drinking games that we played in teams, in most of them chugging alcohol fast combined with skills of physical dexterity was determinant. in my current state, i was absurdly good at both on top of my usual degree of mastery and won us the tournament. it was nice to get cheered on lots— it was cool to be in a parallel dimension where suddenly the skills i had were brought up a number of times in the days after.

i had a great night. i hadn't been (that) happy in months. every moment my body was bursting with energy. i love dancing, and i especially love dancing when weird fellow mental cases who have taken it upon themselves for reasons i don't understand grasp both my hands, pull me in, and keep me very close to them. later we sat on a couch and i leaned against her and it was very nice. every time i asked her if she was uncomfortable she pet my head for a bit, so obviously i was instantly in love.

alcohol disables your mental safeguards and this can backfire. cigarettes just make you slow. speed simply solved every problem instantly.

we danced until 0400. after that we were offered a joint by someone and we passed that around in a circle so we could sleep better. it worked very well, but by the time we went to bed, it was simply almost time to get up, and they don't fuck around with schedule at student camps.

i woke up in agony because the day before i went on camp i had a really intense derby training, and when i dance, i really love to bring my hips into it. everything between my waist and knees was searing, burning, i had to stretch and massage until i took the edge off enough that i could convince myself that i wasn't injured. the night before i hadn't felt anything at all. obviously i was also more hungover than ever before, but like, whatever. because i value a varied diet and a rigorous exercise routine, i decided to take it easy from thereon, only start drinking in the evening, et cetera. i was already going to skip sunday training for this, and additionally there are a few resistance training goals that i want to meet in the near future.

these three felt otherwise. they would go on to drink all day. it was very difficult to talk to any of them, although they seemed to be having fun though. i was kind of bothered that i couldn't talk to this girl meaningfully at all anymore at some point, so during that day and the last day of camp i kind of stopped feeling something for her entirely, which was very odd, completely unlike how it usually goes for me.

we played some games, including a quiz. my team won the quiz, but not the other game.

that night most of my acquaintances were absent for the first part. the sweet autistic metalhead i met earlier had gone to her one-person bedroom to decompress, the three from the start were apparently on a walk that i couldn't safely participate in, the others were fuck knows where. i was in a really, really bad mood. i knew that speed would solve all my problems, allow me to join the dance party going on. instead i wasted away on a couch for a while.

then there was dinner, and then an awards show. two games won (the beer game counted) meant i was called in front twice and won a shot of hard liquor as a price, thus twice in a row. very convenient for my fealty to fitness, but at least nice.

afterwards, a number of friends were periodically back on the dance floor in shifts, and the shots were doing their job. the nice thing about shots is that they mean you don't constantly have to piss as with beer, so they made a nice base for the rest of my consumption that night.

i found my new favorite pop song dancing with the girl who i have a particular unbreakable fealty to— that resultant from me breaking down in her arms about a girl not liking me back earlier that year lol

that girl would eventually do some things to me that would present one of the main causes of me at times completely turning inwards and become unable to talk to people, simply looking on and knowing my humanity has been taken away from me by many people.

but right there, dancing, knowing i was surrounded by people who care about me even if i am nothing like then, i was doing just fine, despite having quietly had a mental breakdown on that couch where everything at once played up.

eventually the music selection turned to shit and i decided to do the smart thing and have six hours of sleep instead of two. some sweet angels made sure to coax me into drinking lots of water.

"you'll be grateful in the morning."

a decent night, minus the transmisogynist components of some sketch one of the members of the previous committee did. i'll talk to her about it soon and i'm confident she'll understand how it was hurtful— i had a drunk conversation with two other girls in the restroom about it and they were fully behind me and encouraged me to do this.

the next morning almost everyone was still drinking, despite the fact that most of the day we would just spend in a bus bringing us back from the middle of nowhere.

at some point i sat down on a couch and for the first time in days, took out my ear buds and listened to some music i like.

it was cathartic and i had a particular kind of realisation.

i had spent an entire alcohol getting fucked up to music i could only tolerate there and then, under bright lights and with accompanying alcohol. drinking the kind of alcohol i don't like drinking because it's what was available, hanging out mostly with people with whom i have very little in common. in general, kind of losing myself.

i knew what i needed to do, what i can do soon. all i need to do is get out of this house to a better place, get my painting station set up, keep being involved in the roller derby, and maybe somewhere along the lines i would figure stuff out for myself.

of course, there are certain social circumstances that need to happen to me too, but i certainly can't do that while inert.

i had skipped the derby's general member's meeting on friday. it was the only one of the year, and i really wanted to attend. they were discussing attendance policies, and i feel i could've really learned a lot about the members of the league from that. debates about derby as its own reward and assuming the inherent joy of cooperation versus a dedication to structured sustained development and competitivity, or any of the ways one could frame that.

i had missed a training, when i had immediate short-term goals that i could have fulfilled that training.

the other rookies like me, and so does the trainer. not because of my ability to chug alcohol really fast — although i intend to impress them at the party we apparently have soon — but because of my dedictation, fervor, and general attitude.

maybe there is a common source to the fact that i can dance better than i can talk and that i feel i'm more meaningfully together with people when i'm on wheels than when i'm not, generally speaking at least.

it feels like there's a rift between me and the rest of humanity, but a little less on the track than most other places.

but then speed also helps.

it helps everything. it makes me feel happy.

but i know i can't actually take this as often as i would need without fucking myself up. still, on our way back, alienated and exhausted, i was constantly craving it.

when we got out of the bus and a people hugged me goodbye, i did meditate for a bit on the fact that i did create many new bonds. maybe i'll get more out of them than i felt by the last day, but it's complicated.

and now i'm at friends who fed me and gave me weed to finally fucking calm down. it's all right.

i miss my friends in london who i feel separated from only by distance.

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svucarisiaddict · 6 years ago

Note

can you do one where the reader and nick are dating but break up when he leaves for californa and the reader doesn’t want to leave svu, and slowly falls in love with carisi? sorry if it’s too broad ahah

//this turned out longer than I thought. I’m going to be doing a part 2! In this fic the reader is a forensic DNA analyst.//

“I can’t believe you’re really not coming with me.” Nick held your hand swinging it back and forth. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

“We’ve talked about this, Nick,” you replied gently.

“I know. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He smiled. “Well, I should get going if I want to make Indianapolis by dark.” Nick pulled you to his chest. “I don’t want to let you go.” Nick’s voice cracked.

“Me either.” You squeezed him back unable to believe it would be quite possibly the last hug you would ever get from him. Leaning back you looked into dark brown eyes.

“I will always love you, Y/N,” Nick pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you too, Nicky.”

Nick climbed into the moving truck. “I'll call when I stop for the night.”

“Okay.” ‘Don't cry. Don't cry.’ It had been your mantra all day.

He waved one final time then drove away. You watched until your tear-blurred eyes couldn’t see anymore. Turning you made the sad walk back into the apartment.

Later that evening you were shuffling around what was now your apartment. Just yours. All alone. Maybe you should get a cat. Or a dog. As you rummaged through the cabinet looking for the peanut butter the doorbell rang. “Ugh.”

Swinging open the door you found Sonny standing in front of you with a pizza box in one hand and plastic bags in his other hand. “Can I come in?” Sonny breezed into the apartment. “What? Do ya not check to see who is at your door first?” Sonny placed the pizza box on the counter along with the plastic bags.

“What are you doing here?” You lifted the lid of the pizza box. “Is this extra cheese with pepperoni and pineapple?”

“I was sittin’ at home bored so I thought I’d come over and bug you.” Sonny smirked. “Got ya some butter pecan ice cream, beef jerky, orange soda and salt and vinegar chips.”

That was the last straw. You covered your face with your hands and started sobbing.

Sonny came around the table and gathered you in his arms. You buried your face in his chest grasping at his soft flannel. He soothed your hair swaying back and forth. “Shhh..doll. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Sonny just held and comforted you until your sobs turned into soft whimpering. He leaned back and tilted your chin up. “I got you the wrong ice cream didn’t I?”

You giggled. “No. It’s all my favorites.”

“Here.” Sonny pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

“Thanks.” The gesture made you made you smile. You could remember the first time you met Sonny. It was during a night out with the squad. Nick become upset about a guy hitting on you. The two of you got in a fight after Nick punched the guy. You had had enough of his temper and fighting. He got mad and stormed out leaving you at the bar. Sonny gave you a handkerchief and comforted you that night too.

“Better?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah.” Smiling up at Sonny you said, “Ummm...I was going to watch I Love Lucy.”

“That happens to be one of my favorite shows. Hands down.”

You and Sonny were laughing so hard you snorted which caused Sonny to laugh even harder. Hearing your phone buzz on the kitchen table you jumped up and answered. “Hello?” you said in a breathless voice.

“Hey. What are you doing?” Nick’s voice sounded tired. “I made it to Indiana.”

“Oh good to hear. How was the drive?” Sonny laughed making you giggle.

“Long. Is that Sonny?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. He-”

“What the Hell is he doing there? I’m gone for 12 hours and he swoops in?” Nick’s voice changed from tired and soft to angry.

“Nick if you remember right, you’re the one that moved across the country. We broke up. Sonny is a friend,” you said. “You know what? I don’t have to defend myself to you. I’m glad you’ve had a safe trip so far. But don’t call me anymore.” Ending the call you leaned against the kitchen counter and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I hope I wasn’t the reason for all that.” He waved his hand around in the air.

“Nope. Just Nick being Nick. Let’s get back to Lucy.” You gave him a small smile then walked past him to the living room.

At 1am your phone rang again. You fumbled for your phone not bothering to look at the screen before answering. “Hello?” Your voice was raspy from sleep.

“Hey,” Nick said softly. After you didn’t say anything Nick continued. “I’m sorry for earlier. You’re right. It’s not my business and I know Sonny was just being a good friend.”

“Thank you.” You took a deep breath and sighed.

“Well, that’s all I needed. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Nick.”

[From:Sonny 4:55PM] We still on for pizza and movies?

[To:Sonny 4:59PM] Well it is Friday…

[From:Sonny 5:02PM] Great see ya at 6

For the last few months, you and Sonny had a standing date every Friday. Usually, it was pizza, junk food, and movies at one of your places. When Nick first left it was one of the things that helped you get through the week.

At 6 sharp Sonny walked through the door pizza in hand. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “TGIF am I right?”

“Amen. Want to see the movies I picked?” Sonny nodded as he took plates from the cabinet. “So. I’m feeling chick flicky today. Must be PMS.”

Sonny raised his brows. “Oh boy. I hope I bought enough chocolate.”

“Hush you.”

Sonny studied the cases as you held them up. “Beaches, Steel Magnolias, Marley and Me. Wow. That’s the tearjerker collection.”

At some point in the evening, you fell asleep. The last thing you remembered was Marley trying to jump out of Owen Wilson’s car. Sonny woke you when he shifted. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. What time is it?”

“11:30,” Sonny responded. “I was just getting ready to go.”

You sat up. “No, stay here. It’s too late. Couch pulls out. I’ll grab some fresh linens.” Getting up you stepped over Sonny’s long legs. Being the graceful person you were you tripped and fell into Sonny’s lap. His hands grasped your waist and your faces were so close, lips so close...both of you leaning closer, lips brushing.

“I-uh-sorry.” You pulled back. “I’m going to get those sheets…”

Sonny brushed your hair from your face. “Don’t be. I’d really like to kiss you-”

He was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You jumped up from his lap. Nick’s face popped up on screen. “Hi.”

“Y/N? It’s Zara! I miss you!”

“Hey, Zara. Miss you too toots. How are you enjoying LA?” You pointed to your phone and mouthed Zara’s name to Sonny to which he smiled.

“It’s so fun and always warm,” she responded enthusiastically. “Here Daddy wants to talk to you.”

“Oh uh, I don’t really-”

“Don’t really want to what?” Nick asked.

“Nothing. How are you?”

“I’m doing really well. Miss you though.”

“Hmmm...me too. How is working for the Parks going?”

Nick sighed. “Boring. But I’m okay with boring.”

Sonny pointed to the door then waved.

“Nick. Hold on a sec.” You placed your hand over the phone. “No. Stay.”

“I’ll text you when I get home.” He gave you another wave then was out the door.

“Sorry. I’m back. So boring huh? Tell me about it.” You pulled out a stool.

The next evening was a girl’s night out to celebrate your best friend, Christy’s birthday. You had just downed another shot when Sonny walked through the door with a woman. She was tall, thin, gorgeous. The exact opposite of what you were. Jealousy surprisingly sprung up in your eyes out of nowhere.

“Isn’t tha ole Sonny boy?” Christy asked.

“Yup. Looks like he’s got himself a lady friend.” You stood to take a second to regroup and steady yourself. “I’m gonna go say hi.”

Christy giggled. “Didn’t want to kiss you just last night? Now, look at em got some Victoria’s Secret model on his arm.”

“Stop it,” you giggled and swatted at her hand.

He spotted you when you were halfway to him. He stiffened and averted his eyes.

“Fancy seein’ you here,” you slurred.

“Y/N. Are you drunk?” He grasped your shoulders to steady you.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” You covered your mouth to suppress a giggle. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Lisa,” the tall blonde replied. She extended her hand.

You ignored it crossing your arms over your chest. “What are your intentions with Sonny? You’re so tall.”

Now it was their turn to giggle. You narrowed your eyes at both of them. “What’s so funny?”

“Lisa is one of my oldest friends. She’s in town for a couple days so we’re getting a drink to catch up.” Sonny explained.

You nodded eyes half closed. “Hmmm...well enjoy your evening. With your “friend”.” You wavered when you turned to go back to Christy.

Sonny caught you. “Let me get you home,” Sonny offered. “Where’s Christy?”

You waved in her direction. When you focused you could see Tyler, Christy’s boyfriend had arrived at some point. “Interesting,” you slur. “Why does everyone have someone but me?”

Sonny wrapped his arm around your middle to support you. “You have me.” He went to the table to retrieve your purse letting you say goodnight to your friends.

Sonny led you to the door, Lisa following behind him. You gave Sonny a questioning look. “Why’s everyone so tall tonight? I wanna be tall.”

“That’s not somethin’ you can change doll.” Sonny gave Lisa a hug.

Once outside Sonny hailed a cab. He helped you climb in then slide in beside you. He gave the taxi driver your address. You laid your head on his chest and was out before the cab pulled away from the curb.

“Hey. Y/N. Y/N. We’re home,” Sonny said softly then gently shook you. When he realized he wasn’t going to wake you he paid the driver then climbed from the taxi. He pulled you from the car picked you up cradling you and closed the door with his foot. Adjusting you he took the key from his pocket.

You woke up enough to convince him to sit you down. Sonny unlocked the door and helped you to the bedroom. He went to the dresser. “Where are your PJ’s?”

“Don’t wear no PJ’s.” You stood and slipped you jeans of over your hips then kicked out of them which didn’t happen since your shoes were still on.

Sonny reached you in a couple steps. His cheeks were slightly blushed. He helped you out of your Converse, socks then jeans. “Under the covers. Let’s go.”

You crawled to the top of the bed. Reaching around your unclasped you bra sliding the straps down your arms then pulled it through an armhole leaving you in nothing but a T-shirt and your panties.

Sonny chuckled when you slingshot it across your bedroom landing it on top of your mirror. “Nice shot.” He kissed your temple then tucked the blankets in around you. “Night. I’ll call ya in the mornin’”

“Do you love Lisa?”

He chuckled. “Not in the way you think. She’s like a sister.” He turned to leave. “Get some sleep.”

“Sonny wait. Stay here tonight. Please.”

“I dunno if I should,” Sonny said the look on his face conflicted.

“I’ll behave. I promise. I’m just tired of being lonely. Just one night I want to feel arms around me when I sleep. Please.”

He studied you for a minute then sighed. “I can’t say no to that face.” Sonny turned to the door and shut off the light. You heard his shoes come off then his coat. “Scooch over.” Sonny settled under the covers with your back against his chest. You could feel your body relax almost instantly. His arm draped over your middle. “Night doll. Hope you don’t snore.”

“Night Sonny.”

The next morning you woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. And...was that waffles?

You pushed the blankets off your body, slipped on a pair of Nick’s old sweats. The nasty taste in your mouth prompted you to brush your teeth then padded down the hall to the kitchen. “That smells amazing.”

Sonny turned from the stove and gave you a broad smile. “How ya feelin’ this mornin’?”

Raising your arms over your head to stretch then crack your neck. “Good actually. Can I help you with anything?”

“I got it under control. Besides, I’ve seen you in the kitchen and it ain’t pretty. Just sayin’ I love ya but you-”

“You...love me? Cause I’ve loved you for-”

Sonny reached you in three long strides. His hands found your hips and pulled you to him yours grasping his biceps. Sonny leaned down pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. Closing your eyes you leaned into the kiss deepening it. Sonny broke from the kiss and rested his forehead to yours. “Does that answer your question?”

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aiaranradnay · 6 years ago

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Grief

A/N: this is for the spn angst bingo challenge hosted by @spnangstbingo . I've finally begun this journey, and am really excited about it <3

Square filled: Free Space

Pairing : Dean x Reader

Warnings : Loads of Angst, canon typical violence, torture and tears.

word count : almost 5k.

Inspiration : Scientist by Coldplay. also shoutout to @effie-w coz its that vintage clock of hers that got me in love with this song <3

Betaed by @wingedcatninja who offered to help my rusty head. thank you so much<3 your support and guidance refined the fic a great deal. she’s also named the fic, so thank you<3

feedback is much appreciated :)

It had started out as a pretty decent morning – Sam just back from his morning run, Dean sifting through the newspaper pile looking for a case. He had been grouchy lately – ever since he had been stupid enough to drunk dial his ex at one in the morning. He had woken up the next day instantly regretting his actions. She had left him; it was not his fault.

No matter how many times he thought of it, he couldn’t help but blame himself for the end of that relationship. But that call, she had specifically told him that it wasn’t him, she had taken the blame; he should probably accept it.

But she sounded so broken ... was she hurting too, just like he was?

His head whirled around the same thoughts over and over as his eyes raked through the most recent paper, finding an article about a gruesome animal attack two towns over – nowhere close to the wild. An uneasy feeling crept into his gut, his mind repeating her last words; her voice sounding pained and forlorn – “Goodbye, Dean, take care.”

Then his phone rang out, your name flashing on the display as the guitar riff blared out.

“It’s Y/N,” he told Sam with a scowl of pure hatred, masking the tiny seed of hope that had blossomed in his chest.

Sam watched his brother answer the call with a gruff ‘hello’, his expression rapidly changing into one of shock and fear. His face got paler by the second as the person on the other side spoke.

Dean felt his eyes burn as he withheld the tears. The hand that held the newspaper trembled, the article now making sense. The officer at the other end of the call requested him to collect the body and ended the call.

The first tear rolled down his cheek and his world came crashing down as he looked back into Sam’s concerned eyes.

“It’s Y/N,” he whispered.

It took them a whole month to get done with your ‘funeral’ – to get your mangled remains and a handful of bloody photographs from the police, put you back together as best as they could and bury you; for Dean to begin coping with your death; for Sam to accept your absence; for them to start living like normal hunters again. Sam probably tried to get his closure, but neither one was over it yet. At least once every week, one of them would be at your grave, Dean wishing he could have prevented it all, wishing he could go back to where it all started.

The first week, he was a mess; it was supposed to be a short visit, but the nearer he got to your place of resting the more he shattered. The impala too had picked up his sombre mood; her purr sounded like mourning, her radio softly singing one of your favourite songs. He then clambered out and seated himself beside your grave, whispering apologies to you – for not being there, protecting you as he should have.

His mind flew back in time and stopped by the pool table at a dingy bar where he was hustling his daily quota from the other players. They were idiots, and he was taking complete advantage of that. Then you had sauntered in. You were a stranger looking for some fun time; at least that was what you said. Two rounds later, he had miserably lost his entire day’s income to you. While you gave him a victory smirk, he desperately tried convincing himself that it was not your skills but his distracted mind that got him losing. However, you split the money with him the moment the blokes left and the table was cleared. “For all the trouble we go through for these losers, I think we deserve the money”, you whispered showing him the anti-possession tattoo on your wrist. A few beers later, you had traded hunting stories and he had, to his own surprise, offered you a place at the bunker.

His entire frame shook as he sobbed over the death of his best friend, his love, who was unfairly snatched away from him.

Two weeks later, when he returned, he was exhausted – both physically and emotionally. The case they had just finished had been rather gory; but it wasn’t the gore that affected him – it was the victims. They all had something that eerily reminded him of you – the hair colour, the age, the physique. Every time they had a body in the morgue, the boys couldn’t help but remember your mangled form that lay six feet under. The third time, Dean refused to go, unable to stand the grief. That day, the reaper at the crime scene who had popped up to harvest the soul confirmed that your soul was somewhere deep in hell, in some maximum security cell, with the best torturers available. The exact location however was unknown.

Castiel had called in a few days later, only to let the boys know that he couldn’t get that deep in the pit. Crowley had been smart enough to stay away. Dean felt terribly helpless as he sat there by your grave, not knowing how to help you. The usual strings of self blame wove around his head as he thought of endless scenarios where it hadn’t ended this way, where he had managed to save you. What he wouldn’t give to make a deal and take your place... wait a moment.

He abruptly stood up, a plan formulating in his head. Hurrying to his car’s trunk he pulled out everything necessary. Half an hour later, he was ready. The traps and sigils were strategically placed, and the tiny box buried in the middle of the crossroads. The only thing missing now was the demon. Soon enough the putrid stench of sulphur filled the air and a young man in a dark suit popped up, his eyes blood red. At first, Dean bargained his own soul in exchange of yours. When that failed, he drew out the demon blade, threatening and torturing the dealer for information. However, his attempts were fruitless, and ended with the orange-red glow of a dying demon when Dean buried the knife into the monster’s chest in blind fury.

As the sun descended, the rays shone on his handsome face, making the splatter of demon blood glisten. The tips of his dirty blonde hair glowed like embers as he stormed towards his Baby, seething with rage.

When you had first joined their ranks, you had requested just one small thing. “Don’t ask me about my past,” you had said. Both boys had readily agreed; they respected your privacy, knowing firsthand that a hunter’s life never starts with a happy event.

As time passed any kind of discomfort or doubts you had about each other had evaporated into thin air. You had found a family you never thought you’d get again. The boys found you filling in the void they never knew they had in their lives.

To Dean you were like his saviour. He often watched you as you fooled around the bunker, loving how you patiently sat through research with Sam, despite being utterly bored. He loved your enthusiasm when he asked you to accompany him to the bar. He loved how the two of you had fun at the bar, even helping each other get someone for the night. It was all jokes and stupidity, for neither of you took anyone home. Ever since you’d waltzed into his life, his one night stands had diminished in number, and replaced by actual blissful sleep.

Sure, he still got nightmares and woke up in a cold sweat; but somehow every time that happened, you’d be at the door with a look of concern. Neither of you exchanged words – you just walked in and wrapped your arms around him, calming him down with your mere presence. He’d often apologize for it, but you’d always brush it off with a ‘doesn’t matter... wasn’t really sleeping anyways’. You would then soothingly coax the bad dream out of his mind; and he’d simply pour out all his secrets, answer all your questions and then spend hours reminiscing about the early days of hunting when things weren’t this painful. You’d listen earnestly, commenting at some points and by the end of it, Dean would be snoring softly yet again, a part of his burden having disappeared.

Sam loved how you took care of his brother; he saw the love you had for each other, the love that neither of you were even aware of yet. You had now become his best friend, and he often had hinted that Dean and you would make a good couple, but you were ignorant of it. He knew for sure though, that someday it would all click into place. He simply couldn’t wait for the day when his best friend would officially be family, be his sister-in-law.

Now, with you gone the world seemed to have lost colour. The research work was too tedious, the bar nights too lonely and the nightmares more gory and terrifying. The boys no longer had that caring hand comforting them, or that soothing voice loving them. The bunker was too quiet with no sound of high pitched laughter bouncing off the walls, or the steady hum of a song being sung.

Your death had ripped open a huge hole in their lives, and they had nothing to patch it back up with.

By now, it had become a very common sight to have a Winchester mourning at your grave; the mornings were filled with Sam’s tired yet ever hopeful voice, and the evenings reserved for Dean’s pain. They never came together; never even told each other about the frequent visits.

The fourth week thus passed with them wondering why you’d never told them that you were dying.

Dean had always considered you to be his rock; maybe it was your constant support, or your everlasting optimism... to him you were invincible, a constant. So, that one day when he saw you break down he panicked. He had never seen you so broken... and now the memory of your voice, you crying, fallen crumpled in the middle of the road, haunted his mind. It was obvious that hunting was affecting you too and he didn’t like that. So he did the only thing he thought was sensible – he benched you. He gave a different reason every time but it always ended with ‘you’re not going Y/N’. You didn’t like it one bit. You were a full fledged hunter who’d given up on everything other than hunting; to be forbidden from doing the one job you knew didn’t sit well with you... and thus the fights started. Misunderstandings and arguments escalated. Moreover the two of you had just begun being ‘more than friends’, and it didn’t work well.

Your fights left Dean restless and as a result, the hunts often got botched up. Both your minds were losing peace, your lifestyle got more reckless and your relationship got rockier. Sam tried his best to calm the two of you and make you see sense, but you were stubborn and you butted heads ever so often. It finally took one hunt to sever whatever was left. You were benched but you broke protocol and followed them. Time wasn’t on your side, and you almost ruined it for all of them. Cas had turned up last minute and saved you all.

By the time you reached home, Dean was seething with rage. The usual argument turned heated, both your voices loud and bellowing, a volley of angry accusations tossing back and forth until you broke. “You know what?! I quit! I FUCKING QUIT!! I’ve had enough, Dean! It’s clearly not working. We’re over.” Minutes later, you were at the front door, a duffel bag hitched up your shoulder.

Time froze for a millisecond before Dean exploded. “Y/N, DON’T YOU DARE! You walk out that door, don’t you ever think of coming back! IF YOU LEAVE, YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! YOU GET THAT?” for a split second he sounded so much like his father, even Sam flinched at the turn of events – like history repeating itself.

Maybe Dean would hate himself for doing it if only he was thinking straight. Maybe he’d have noticed your tortured face, his comment hitting much closer than he could have possibly imagined. Maybe he’d have apologized and things would be okay. But at that moment, it was a game of egos. “That would be just perfect, wouldn’t it?” you hissed, before storming out, the door clanging shut behind you. The silence that followed was deafening.

The silence seemed to have seeped into the bunker to this date.

In the stifled whimpers of the older Winchester, living his nightmares on repeat.

In the slumped frame of Sam Winchester, aching with suppressed emotions.

In the hushed flutter of the angel wings, as Cas popped by your grave, his eyes sunken with helplessness.

In the quiet of your absence, your grave remained still.

A dull grey evening.

A broken black car, grey with soot and dust.

A lonely grey headstone in the middle of nowhere.

A defeated young man with a pale grey face staring hopelessly at the grave, leaning against the car.

He doesn’t know how to bring you back; he doesn’t know how to move on. The world has stopped for him, it doesn’t even have a meaning.

Regrets. A billion regrets; it’s the same thing haunting him.

Realization... of how the two of you had wasted your time fighting; all the time that you could’ve spent together; if only...

Memories... flooding in – cheesy lines and flirting; hugs of comfort, of love; stolen kisses, fearing the risk; giving in to your feelings; the nights together, loving each other.

“Hey Dean?” you mumbled, your head resting against his shoulder as the two of you sat, leaning against a tree in a tiny meadow Dean had discovered. It was hidden in the woods, a tiny paradise for the two of you. “Yea?” he whispered, not wanting the moment to end.

“Tag. You’re it,” you squeaked, before dashing into the wilderness. It took him a second to process, before he got up and sprinted in your direction. Peals of laughter echoed through the trees as you ran, Dean right at your tail. You knew he'd easily catch you, despite the headstart. “Gotcha,” he growled as he tackled you, holding you close as the two of you came crashing down onto the forest floor. You squirmed under him, giggling the whole while as he watched you in awe.

And suddenly, you looked him in the eye, and he saw pure fear in yours. “Dean!” you gasped out. Startled, Dean pulled back slightly. “Dean!!” you cried out.

A blink of his eyes; you were gone.

“Dean!!!” your voice called out... but you weren’t there.

Sheer panic filled in Dean’s heart as he looked around in vain. Where did you go?

“DEAN!!!!” your voice was right there... where was it coming from? Under the ground?

That just didn’t make any sense.... yet there it was. Right from the depths of the earth.

A voice of pain; a voice of fear.

“DEAN!!!”

A sharp pain burnt his cheek as Cas slapped him out of his stupor; eyes focusing as he came back to the real world, his gaze meeting the concerned looks of Sam and Castiel. No one uttered a word. They simply helped him into the car and drove home.

The skies turned dark; the grave, once again, lonely.

Another case was done and dusted; and here he was yet again. His legs folded beneath him, his shoulders hunched carrying immense grief. A single tear rolling off his cheek and many unshed ones held within. His hands trembled, as he clutched a scrapbook – your scrapbook – tightly.

You had called it a journal; an art journal. And you wrote nothing about monsters in there. Dean hadn’t got it then; now that he had gone through it, he understood it all; hell, now he knew every little thing that was in it. It started out from when you’d joined the boys and contained every happy event that had followed. There were a million photos, drawings and cute cut-out crafts woven into a beautiful tale of a lonely huntress who found the best family. Faces – his, Sammy’s, Castiel’s – were delicately drawn around the day’s events. He didn’t even know how you’d gotten so many photos and it made him smile as he went through over and over. Those tiny flip-book motion pictures of the boys peeked out here and there. His smile only widened when he reached the timeline where the two of you had gotten together. There weren’t many photos – “I can’t even think straight around him, much less take photos”, you’d written. There were drawings though, where you had tried to recreate the time spent together as best as you could... and it was magical; like a fairy tale dream where you’d made him the prince. His heartstrings tugged in grief at the few missing photos, because he knew they were the best ones. They weren’t lost; as a matter of fact they were right there in his hand – slightly frayed and caked with grime and the remnants of your blood from when you had held them while you got torn into ribbons. Why had you made that deal anyway?

His vision blurred as the tears took over, his body casting a long shadow of a broken man, as the sun slipped below the horizon.

Almost the end of week ten; yet Dean hadn’t come to you. Sam however did.

He knew that you were gone, and probably wouldn’t hear what he had to say; but if you could – then you had to know.

The young man knelt by the headstone, a bunch of fresh flowers in his hand – your favourite ones. “He wanted to come... Dean I mean; he wanted to see you, even put up a fight... but I... I just couldn’t let him out; he isn’t well, you know. Mentally – he...he’s crumbling, Y/N/N. He’s hallucinating; he sees you everywhere, and he...he just keeps saying that it’s his fault. He’s drinking himself to sleep, he’s hurting himself... it’s like your break-up all over again; a million times worse this time.” His eyes clouded with unshed tears as he remembered your heated arguments; the way you two butted heads. It seemed all so trivial then; all couples tended to fight – he could see the intense love you had for each other despite all the bicker.

But over the days, your fights simply intensified; almost as if you were doing it all on purpose. And finally one day, it erupted with a final,’it’s over’ and you had walked out, never to return.

This time when the sun set, it cast its final rays on the longer locks of your best friend. “He’s losing it, Y/N; the pain, its killing him. He couldn’t even stand straight today, but he was so persistent about meeting you,” he chuckled sadly, “I had to add a few sleep meds into his drink to knock him out... I know that he’ll hate me when he wakes up, but you do understand my intentions right?”

Sighing softly, he rose. “Y/N, if you can hear me, come back to us. We miss you... Dean needs you back; hell, I need you back. I miss my best friend,” his voice broke towards the end.

The darkness settled in as he drove away.

Week eleven and yet you were still dead; they hadn’t found anything that could get you back. It was a Thursday and would have been your birthday if you were still alive. Sam had visited in the morning, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand. He had sat there for quite a long while talking to you. He was suffering – it was even worse for him because he hadn’t just lost you but also his brother; no matter what show Dean put up every day, he knew that the older one was no more the same.

That evening as the sun set, loud screeching of tires burned away the thick silence around your grave. A car – sleek, black, classic from the 60’s – swerved violently before shuddering to a stop right where the dirt trail to get to your grave started. A man stumbled out; a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He was drunk beyond measure, struggling to stand upright.

How many could he have possibly downed just so he could get to this stage?

He fell on his knees with a thud. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was going to celebrate your birthday you know? But you weren’t there,” his broad frame violently shook as the pent up grief and sorrow flowed out of him.

“Why’d you leave? We could have worked it out, why’d you just give up like that?”

The ‘angry young man out for revenge’ facade that he held all day had crumbled, leaving behind a broken shell.

The worst part of it was that you were helplessly seeing everything. Hell apparently had wonderful reception to watch the outside world. Ever since the traditional chop-chop techniques of torture had ceased to affect you, the demons had improvised their torture methods – mind games.

They started out with a regular dose – your family dying, all your best memories with them changing into horror flicks while you watched helplessly. Surprisingly it didn’t affect you; years of recurring nightmares, Dean’s reassuring arms telling you that it wasn’t real, Sam’s wise counselling and all the love you got from them, had finally let you find the closure you sought. You now had a new family.

Then the visions of your family were replaced by the boys – you betraying the two, them suffering, dying, asking you over and over “why, Y/N/N?”... But you survived those too, convincing yourself that it was just trickery and that the boys were safe; they were Winchesters.

And finally one day they just let you see what the world upstairs was up to. That was where you crumbled – at their mourning faces; at Dean’s reckless attempts to bring you back, at Sam’s silence and their frequent visits to your grave. That week was the worst, both for you and Dean. He visited everyday and you watched helplessly as he blamed himself for your death. The boys hadn’t taken a case that week, yet Dean seemed to have injured himself – bruised knuckles, multiple cuts and burns on his arms; never anything serious enough to kill him, but immensely painful. You screamed and bled freely as they carved into your skin, knowing that you were slowly giving up.

The last day of that week or maybe it was the next (or so you assumed for time ran differently out there), the torture seemed way more intense, and though you put up your best fight, you felt your body collapse and black spots dancing around your eyes. The last thing you remember before blacking out being a blinding light encompassed in gigantic golden wings followed by a searing pain in your shoulder.

Four months since your death, three since your funeral and yet he was there every week, reminiscing the time you spent, wishing he could go back to where it had all started.

Thirteen weeks since your funeral; yet he wasn’t over your death. He still found himself pining, wishing, praying, hell even begging for you to come back. This week too, when they returned from the hunt, his hand automatically sought Baby’s keys. Despite the exhaustion, and the desperate need for some booze, he had yet again driven straight to your burial site. Like every week, ever since the funeral, he flopped down on his knees with a soft thud, right beside your grave. His eyes all teary, his voice all hoarse, he repeated the same three words he always said.

“I’m so sorry.”

The sun crawled down towards the horizon, casting its glow on the grief stricken man who sat by the grave. Silent tears rolled down his cheek as they did every time. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, as always, before recounting the week’s events. Soft noises of the underground rodents scraping through and scampering filled the silence as the darkness crept in. The noises – they seemed louder today; not that it mattered to Dean.

Then, just as he rose to leave, the soil that marked your grave started caving inwards, forming a shallow ditch. A hand shot out, feebly pushing off the dirt. A head followed, coughing and spitting out mud. The man’s tired green eyes widened, a gasp escaping his lips.

“Y/N.” He breathed.

@writingthingsisdifficult @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @petrovadixon @the–blackdahlia @peddlergirl @eturtle2002 @laura160604 @super100012 @rosey-persephone @theas-bedtime-stories @firedhomearrow @trollhunter94 @percywinchester27 @mrs-squirrel-chester

#spnangstbingo #dean x reader #spn fanfic #angst #oneshot #spn verse

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curiosity-1234 · 6 years ago

Text

BST :part five

parts: 1 2 3 4 (due to tumblr being messed up just message me ill give you something to part 1)

Description: The BST is the world’s most notorious mafia. Their initiation process known by many a soul. Beat to a pulp, or drugged. Pushed into the middle of nowhere with a red ribbon over the eyes and wrists. You must survive the night. Many have died corpses covered in red ribbons fill the morgues of seoul. What happens when a cold dreary night leads Hae-In to the field behind a playground. A spot of red ribbon is all it takes to make her know what is happening. But she can’t just leave this man to die. Two shadows turn to three as Hae-ins live begins to take a turn for better or for worse. Her once, boring, unloved life has now changed. Welcome to BST dear Hae, do you think you can handle it? Or will you die at the hands of the true enemy.

Au: mafia au

trigger warning: blood, drugs, mafia content? (do i need to make that a warning?)

Part five: Consequences

Had I made the bad decision? I chose to follow him into the car and to this location in which looked like the inside of a bar or something but Really i never left my house so I had no idea where I was. “I can’t believe you brought her here of all places. Could you have not chosen one of the warehouses. Or something she's going to know where she is!” Shouted a man.

“Hyung, she won’t know where we are. Calm down” Succubus sighed leaning against the back of the couch. I was sat on a red velvet chair staring at the couch.

“Everyone knows this place Succubus, how could she not know where she is. Look she looks exhausted as well… do you want a drink? Some food or something? Did you even offer her these things. Where is your manners!” Sighed the man looking at the boy who just rolled his eyes.

“She’s technically not a guest at the moment. She doesn't really need these things yinyang.” Another boy stated walking into the room I was in. He was a tall male with unkempt shaggy grey hair falling in front of his brown eyes. My eyes darted to the other male that had asked me if I wanted a drink. He was Yinyang. The BST’s number one negotiator. He could get people to talk and agree to what he says but the one most terrifying thing about him was his ability. Many called it invisible death. Because if you somehow did not agree with him. You would be dead without anyone noticing. I gulped, fear taking over me.

“That is still no reason to not be polite. If she knows where she is, then the least I can do is offer her a drink to make sure she doesn't say anything V!” Yinyang sighed annoyedly at the younger male. V….. BST’s number one assassin. No one had seen him in real life. And yet here i was staring at him before my eyes. His ability was known as chameleon. He was able to morph into his surroundings as if he was not even there in the first place.

“Trust us Hyung. V, succubus and I have been watching her for a month now. V and jungkook basically living in her apartment for pete sake. She doesn't get out much. She won’t know where we are.” That voice, it matched the face I was seeing perfectly. The face of the boy I had rescued. He smiled at me tilting his head a bit. “I am sorry, they tend to take things over board. I wanted to say thank you for saving me. My name is Calico cat. It was succubus’s idea. After the song you were singing when you saved me.”He smiled at me making me blush a bit and look away. What the hell, he’s in a mafia why am I blushing.

“How cute! She’s blushing.” another man's voice cheered. It was a Male with light brown hair, an angular jaw, and brown eyes.

“Finally our Sunshine has appeared we can get to work.” Yet one more stated. He was a tired looking male with white hair and droopy brown eyes. Sunshine? The BST’s weapons manufacturer and main fighter. Oh no…. His ability was known as speed. He could get weapons to people within seconds. Pull them out of nowhere almost like a magician. He was even known for making weapons out of nothing. He used a pen once to get himself out of a sticky situation.

“At least i'm not always late like someone I know. Suga..or is it agust d right now?” Sunshine chuckled. Suga was the BST’s information broker.Hacker and informant. While Agust D was their torturer. No one had ever realized they where the same person before. Well… I guess until me. His ability was known as reader. It was as if he could read minds. Wait….. If he could read minds does that mean.. He can read mine?

“Suga at the moment. And no I can’t read your mind. But Succubus, you are correct she does have the ability to do decipher. She's been studying each of us. Putting us into ranks. Soon she will figure out who she is in the presence of. I wonder what other qualities she possess.” Suga stated smirking at me before going to sit down with the rest on the couch. Did he just say he couldn't read my mind, when I was thinking if he could read my mind? Does that mean he can?

“You look like your trying to process everything and anything going on at the moment. Lost in thought. Perhaps, she may have genius as well.” A final man’s chuckle made me turn and freeze. God of destruction was standing before me. The leader of the BST. Many have seen his face. Though usually covered by a mask or hat. Standing before me without one. I was surely going to die. All 6 of BST’s top ranked members. With Calico cat making it 7. I was in the presence of Bangtan. Fear coursed through my veins as my heart began to beat 100 times per minute. I clenched my hands on the handles of the chair. I was surely going to die. Why did I help Calico cat? This was going to be the death of me.

“Yeah, she definitely needs a drink. What's your poison princess? I have everything under the sun.” Yinyang questioned.

“I...I…. I don’t … drink… usually.” I whispered hoping talking would prolong my life.

“She speaks!” Sunshine cheered clapping his hands. Making Suga laugh at him. A gummy smile appearing on his face.

“Of course she speaks she’s a preschool teacher. Did you think she was mute?” He laughed.

“You don’t usually drink! Oh we have to change that. I'm thinking something fruity and sweet. With a hint of mint” Yinyang announced walking off down the stairs and out of the room.

My heart raced as I stared at each and every one of the members of bangtan. Waiting for someone to speak. G.O.D walked over and sat down on the couch. He leaned forward just staring at me. Making me figit a bit. I was most definitely going to die. I had to do something. “I'm sorry!” I shouted hoping that would help. They all just seemed to stare at me in amusement and chuckle a bit.

“Why are you sorry?” The G.O.D asked raising an eyebrow.

“I….i...i ruined your ...i..i..initiation process. I...I ..I just couldn't help it ok...I can't just stand there and let someone die!!” I shouted staring at the man. “So, I’m sorry ..but its a moral responsibility of mine to not allow that to happen. Please I won’t say anything….I d-d-d-dont ever leave my house. I dont even know where I am right now. Please don’t kill me. I have so much more I want to do with my life.” I cried stuttering through my words. The G.O.D just smirked.

“Oh? And what more do you have planned for your life?” He questioned. I froze. I really did not know myself. What more did I have planned for my life? My family was gone, my life was already boring as it was. I had no ambitions, no dreams. Even if I had dreams I couldn't afford them. My head fell.

“I don’t know” I whispered. A loud sigh escaped Agust D as he looked up tilting his head a bit.

“You don’t need a dream to live the rest of your life happily. You don’t need goals, you don't need these things. Everyone can live happily however they want. These losers don’t seem to think that's possible. But it's true. To all the dreamers without dreams. All the hoppers without hope. There is always light on the other side. Honestly if you have a good group of friends by your side you don't need dreams or goals.” He stated rolling his eyes and looking annoyed as he leaned back.

“B...but…. I dont… i dont even have friends.” I whispered.

“Well now you do!!!, we will be your friends since your in BST now! Bangtan all came from homes and people who ended up not showing love in some way. So we taught each other how to love ourselves. We can teach yo! Welcome to the family!@” v stated with a smile making me shake my head confused. Wasn't he an assassin? Why was he so nice? And cheery? Wait…. I'm part of BST now?

“WHAT!” I shouted in fear and confusion.

“V we haven't told her that part yet. Slow down!” the G.O D. answered.

“Hurry up man i'm hungry.” sunshine answered Yinyang came back up and gave me the drink making me throw it to the ground.

“That's it explain what's going on!” I shouted while yinyang gasped.

“You ruined a perfectly good drink thats whats going on! How rude!” he shouted “my poor floor do you know how much this rug costs!”

“I don't know where i am so no i don't know how much it costs” The G.O.D sighed walking up closer to me.

“It can't be helped. You know to much. You know all of us now and the face of our new recruit. We've seen that you may have an ability like those of us in. Bangtan. By watching you, we think you have more than one. Your perfect for our team. So we request you join us. We are not like other mafias we don't do many things they do. We just fear….if someone else was watching that night besides us. You could be in grave danger. Join us. It’s your only.” His hand touched the back of the chair i was sitting on and it was to late for him. One quick knee flying high between his legs and he was leaning forward pain clear across his face. I lifted the leg wrapping it around his arm that was trapping me in and twisted my body hearing the pop of his wrist as he shouted in anguish. Quickly I flipped landing on my feet before rushing down the stairs. Lights and music began blaring people dancing all around. I looked around confused. Unable to figure out how to get out. I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder. I went to flip the person only to have them hold my hand.

“Please don't flip me i'm just trying to help.”

“Help me… Help me… you just kidnapped me and tried to get me to join.” a hand silenced me as he looked around fear clear in his eyes but his body language showed none of it.

“You don't know where you are. You’ve never been to a club before. I will get you out and home safely I promise.” He stated before leaning his head close to mine. “Try to act natural look at the girls around follow in their footsteps… you never know who is watching.” He whispered but his face turned to that of a flirty expression. My eyes scanned the room looking for anything that could be out of the ordinary. And there was. On the other side of the club from the stairs i just walked out of was a group of four men dressed in lavish suits but the energy they held was darker than anyone else around here. They were powerful, and a bit scary. I would admit that. I sighed nodding my head and looking at the girls who where giggling and having fun. I wish i could do that.

“Just get me out of here and maybe i won’t uppercut you so hard in the jaw they'll be calling you zombie instead of succubus.” i whispered making him laugh.

“ heh, i'd like to see you try princess. You'd have to fight me....and every girl in this place" he laughed winking at me. I looked around at the flirtatious stares of the woman. Some more jealous than flirtatious. I sighed in defeat.

“I suppose your right succubus.” I stated he smiled.

“I know I am.” He laughed wrapping his arm around my waist.

The music of the club blared. As drunken fools danced and laughed. All of them seeming to have a good time. “You need to loosen up a bit.” Succubus whispered. “I know you don't get out much. But seriously. To much stress is not good for you.” We began to walk out the doors of the club the music lessening as we got outside.” You should go to my hotel!” He cheered making me freeze in my tracks. I lifted my hand to slap him hard but right before my hand could graze his face he grabbed it bringing me closer. “Think fully before you act. Use your deciphering skills to look around. What dangers could unfold from you doing that hmm?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Also always keep an advantage. Know exactly every meaning a sentence could hold. My hotel is rated 5 stars, has a spa with natural hot springs, top of the line clothing stores, hair salons and nail salons. I was not asking you to work for me but offering you an expense free vacation.”

“If I needed a vacation I would take one. I don't need help from someone LIKE YOU.” I growled his eyes seemed to hold pain for a split second before blinking to the left. He slammed my body into the wall holding both arms beside me to lock me in.

“Wrap your arms around me put your head on my shoulder.” He whispered.

“What the he'll get off of me!” I shouted.

“Do as I say.” He stated grabbing my hoodie and putting it over my eyes.

“No” I snapped.

“Please!” His voice cracked in a bit of fear and worry making even myself fear. What could someone who was a top dog in a mafia be afraid of. As if instinct I wrapped my arms around his neck and put my head on his shoulder. Her leaned close to me I could see him breathing heavily. He looked down at me eyes telling me everything i needed to know. They were like a knight trying to protect a queen. Calculating any move he had to pull next. Any way he could possibly come out victorious.

“Well well well, if it isn't my old friend succubus. What do you have here. A new toy?” A voice laughed from behind succubus. Succubus growled anger clear in his body language.

“None of your damn business yeom.” Succubus spat.

“Oh come on bussy. You still mad after I killed your last four bitches.” The man chuckled. Succubus's fists clenched as they seemed the shake in anger. I began to shake in fear. The man bear us was a murderer. Would we die here.

“No, why would I care about a few ..sluts.” He stated but as he said the last word his eyes flashed an emotion I never thought I would see on a magia member. Remorse. “This one..IS MINE … I don't plan to share.” there was a dark chuckle from behind us.

“And what if I take her from you? What will you do then.” The man asked.

“ back pocket pick it up click off the lever at the top and point it towards the voice.” succubus whispered. My hand quickly went down doing as I was told. To afraid to do anything else. My hands grazed the silver gun fear striking in my veins. Was I going to kill someone? He wouldent have me do that right? I flipped the lever like he said and pointed it towards the man. Putting full faith in my current sheild. “This ones a member of bangtan….you think you can? Shes got the abilities of all of us combined and even more…. Go ahead attack… lets see who ends up dead within seconds.” Succubus's voice echoed through the alleyway.

“Duck… let's get out of here!” Three men shouted followed by running footsteps.

“Where the hell are you going...he's obviously lying. Get back here!!” Yeom's voice echoed with yet another pair of shoes running away. Succubus burst out laughing.

“Before i move princess. Do you mind flipping my safety back on.” He laughed. I did as I was told still frozen in place. He moved with snake like grace. Grabbing the gun from my hand and placing it back into his back pocket. “Poor yeom is all bark no bite. Don't know why HC even accepted him into their top team.” He said scratching the back of his head. “Are you ok?” I just met….a member of 7G and all of bangtan and am still alive….

“I think I'm going to be sick” I stated putting my hand on the wall.

“Woah woah woah careful. You really should have accepted YinYang's drink let's get you home.

------

He got me to the door of my apartment and waited for me to unlock the door. I was about to close it when I stopped myself. He did rescue me from Yeom after all. The least I could do was say thank you. “Thank you.” I whispered.

“It was nothing. I'm always happy to help a princess when they need me.” He smirked tilting his head a bit.

“I mean it. If it wasn't for you...I would probably be dead. So thank you. Wish there was a way to repay you.” I stated. He smiled brightly

“Here! This is the address for my hotel ill see you tomorrow!” He cheered.

“What!” I shouted holding the card.

“You wanted a way to repay me. I have no one to go to a spa relaxation day with. Now your coming with me.” He laughed

“It's an expression people don't take that seriously!!” I shouted he just chuckled turning on his heal and walking away. His hand waving at me.

“ see you at 12. Don't be late!” He chuckled. What have I gotten myself into.

#bts #mafia au #bts mafia au #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #rm #suga #j hope #jungkook #jimin #jin #v

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smolfangirl · 7 years ago

Text

Do you know why you’re waiting?

A sound so sweet, of you and me - 6 - First realization

I almost forgot posting today and as a result, I proofread this while half falling asleep. So, if you find any mistakes, keep them or tell me or scream “Schnapspraline” at the top of your voice, whatever ^^ That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Story: In a world where you only know who your soulmate is by calling them by their first name, Matteo soon finds that the smallest words can be the hardest to say.

Word count: 2.3k

Matteo realized he walked right into a storm when Gastón brought a strawberry milkshake to their table and took a sip while wiggling his eyebrows like a madman.

“What do you want?”, he asked, caution leaking into his voice.

Gastón put the glass down. Rubbed his hands.

He resembled a mafia boss, and if there was one thing Matteo knew about the mafia it was that you never messed with them.

“How did you and Luna meet anyway?”

“If you can call it meeting”, he muttered, their collision vividly playing in his head instantly, and their first (of many) banters. “I was skating in Cancún and she was running a delivery and crashed into me. She still tries to blame me for it, not that…”

Matteo stopped mid-sentence.

The presence of Luna was impossible to ignore, like a hurricane aimed at him and appearing behind him out of nowhere. As he turned towards her, the storm raged inside her eyes.

He never expected someone as small and cute as Luna to be such a force of nature.

“Why are you lying, chico fresa?”

From Gastón, a quiet “Uh oh” reached Matteo’s ears and until one corner of Luna’s mouth slightly lifted, he seriously believed he was in trouble. “I never…”, he began, but she cut him off. “You said when I give you a new nickname, I get to blame you for our collision!”

That’s not how he remembered this conversation, that’s not how it happened, for sure. Once again, however, he failed to explain himself, as Gastón blurted out, “Oh, so that’s why you said getting him another nickname was important!”

What?

“You helped her?”, he asked, demanded even, lost between staring at his best friend – or traitor friend, apparently – and Luna. No sound sprung out of their mouths, there was no need to, their faces gave him every answer Matteo needed.

“Wow, that is so rude.”

Luna snorted, arms crossed. “Not as rude as you were when you did tricks in the middle of the sideway.”

“Still not as rude as you! I’ll never forget how you said to me I was in the way, you made it sound like I killed someone’s grandma!” Matteo argued.

(Meanwhile, Gastón slurped his stupid shake with the biggest delight.)

Suddenly, another voice added to their conversation, and it took Matteo a second to recognize it as Simón’s. “Who killed someone’s grandma?”, he inquired while he nudged Luna’s arm.

Turning around, Matteo didn’t want to stare him down. He didn’t want to feel his chest tightening, he didn’t want to be jealous over something that wasn’t even his own business. Yet, he mustered the boy next to Luna like a true chico fresa.

“No one, right, astronaut?”, Luna faced Matteo and with her smile, that light coming from her, Matteo no longer held a grudge. “I’d say we just agree that we were both to blame.”

He tousled his hair, gaze wandering through the room as he considered it. (Or pretended to. He missed the resistance to deny her anything.)

“Only because it’s you, little moon.”

For whatever reason, Simón grinned, and for an even more mysterious reason, Luna turned as pale as a sheet of paper. “So, you are Matteo? The chico fresa?” he asked.

Now, Gastón grinned as well. Was Matteo the only one who had no clue what went on here? It felt this way.

“The one and only”, he replied, “And you are Silvio, right?”

Of course, Luna saw right through him. She raised an eyebrow, nothing more, not even the tiniest shake of her head and yet, it carried so much of a warning that he immediately felt the urge to fix up. “I’m just kidding, nice to meet you, Simón.”

If Luna wanted him to be nice to her soulmate, he’d be nice to her soulmate.

The approving smile she sent in his direction told him he made the right choice, that it was worth Gastón’s smirk and knowing glare and the too obvious sip from the strawberry drink.

Luna’s hands wandered over his arm, sending shivers all over his body and letting him forget about Gastón, about Simón, about his own name even. “Hey, do you want to do a bit of extra training?” she asked, her fingers not once leaving his skin.

He wondered if her lips felt as soft as they looked, if she’d mind him finding out if the Roller was completely empty.

“Sure”, he agreed. Hopefully his thoughts didn’t reflect in his expressions as he got up and took her hand.

Before they left, Luna frowned at Simón, the kind of frown that said Shut up. However, when Matteo looked at Simón, he found nothing unusual.

He decided to let it be. After all, he got to spend more time with Luna. Alone.

“You talked about me, huh?” he teased Luna. They entered the rink, and Luna nearly tripped over her own two feet at his question. Laughing, he grabbed her waist to secure her, and only perhaps to be a bit closer to her.

“Don’t be too full of yourself”, she replied, soft pink cheeks. Her little slap on his chest barely hurt. “What else am I supposed to be full of? Strawberries?”

He let her go, still unable to contain his laughter. Luna shook her head. “Ha, very funny.”

Time flew as they skated, it passed by like the world on a train ride, and both of them were surprised to find the Roller almost empty when they finally put their skates into their lockers.

“How are you going to get home?” Matteo asked, the silence of the lockers room prominent against the missing indistinct chatter that usually came from the cafeteria.

“Either I’m calling my dad and wait until he’s here to pick me up or I’m walking home on my own.”

Matteo shot her a glare, she seemed not worried at all, like she walked home alone all the time. Who knew, maybe she’d been doing exactly that lately.

“Isn’t Simón coming with you?”

Luna fidgeted with her bag, searching for something, maybe her keys, and the cutest little wrinkle on her forehead appeared as she dug through every single pocket. “No, he moved in with Pedro and Nico and the loft is in the opposite direction.”

“Interesting”, he muttered, meaning more the way she bit her lower lip and tugged at it and the way her curls fell into her face when she leaned slightly forwards. “I can walk you home, though.”

“You don’t have to.” She still hadn’t found whatever she was looking for, and he loved the view she provided involuntarily.

“I know.” He smiled. “Let’s go.”

The sun already started her daily masterpiece of painting the sky in a pink and blue duet when they reached the mansion. Luna’s legs felt heavier with every step, the training taking its toll on her, and the walk here didn’t help either.

Then again, she wouldn’t want to miss Matteo’s company. Their walk had been nice and their conversations a constant mix of blatant teasing and honesty as they shared their thoughts in a city that grew calmer and slower around them.

Whenever they spent time together, he showed her a side of him she never would have expected after their first two encounters, a side as soft and gentle as a kitten rubbing its face against her hand, and with every time, she noticed herself admiring it more. She admired it, and craved to see more, to see him more, to enjoy this sensation he gave her, like floating on water.

“Don’t forget to do your homework, little moon”, Matteo now told her, his eyes as warm as melted chocolate. She’d dive right into them if she could.

“I won’t”, she promised and with a smile, he caressed her cheek and she got lost in his eyes, so lost, heaven couldn’t help her now.

They hugged goodbye. She asked him to text her once he got home and in return, he gently pressed his lips on her forehead.

As she walked into the house, Simón’s word echoing inside her, Luna thought how the simplicity and ease of the word crush didn’t apply at all anymore and not for a long time. How it was so, so much more.

After dinner (and homework, a promise was a promise), Luna fell on her bed, her legs sore and tired and unmotivated to ever move again. She curled up underneath the blanket, though the heaviness of her body never spread.

Her mind still felt wide awake, revolving around Matteo. The sensation of his lips on her skin earlier had left her shaking for more, longing and dreaming for it. A tiny voice inside her whispered that maybe this was the worst idea she ever had, that she could end up seriously hurt, although it vanished into nothingness when she looked at him. The bigger, louder part wanted to get to know Matteo in this unfamiliar, exciting way, heart first, head second.

If only there wasn’t this one question always popping up when she thought of him. How come they never used their names?

Their real names, their first names at least, the ones that seemed to matter most in this world.

She couldn’t recall a single time they used those around each other. Not once. Instead, her memories were swarming with nicknames, chico fresa, chica delivery or one of the many others, and they felt too natural to change them for anything else by now.

Perhaps there was more to it.

Perhaps their fixation on nicknames covered up something dark, a reason hidden in the shadows of their minds. Perhaps a monster lived inside them, feeding on their fears.

Perhaps she gave it too much thought. Perhaps nothing would happen – or nothing bad – if they took that step into the unknown, perhaps they were afraid for nothing. Perhaps they’d simply grown too used to it, perhaps their nicknames were their little thing. Perhaps that was why Matteo used everyone else’s first names – from what she observed today, even without any hesitation.

While sleep overwhelmed her, Luna decided she was overthinking this. By the morning, her late-night pondering had turned into a faded memory.

A long day laid behind Matteo, a long day with too many demands from his teachers and complaints from his father, and too many things draining his energy. If Luna had asked for a dance with him, he would have declined, simply because he felt too exhausted from school and homework while his sore muscles reminded him too much of the previous training sessions.

Luckily, she spent the afternoon with Simón away from the Roller, so he excused himself earlier than usual to go home and get some rest.

Or that was the plan: his bed and laptop and Netflix. Until his phone showed an incoming call. From Luna.

“Hey, what’s up?” he picked up to be greeted with a small laugh.

With his eyes closed, all he saw was her in front of the Benson mansion, the setting sun a brilliant background but unable to compare to her smile as he kissed her forehead. Her laugh right now sounded exactly as tender as her smile that day.

“Not much, honestly. I only called to prove to you I won’t forget you again”, Luna said, both to his surprise and amusement. “How many times do I need to tell you, it’s impossible to forget me”, he countered, already hearing the eye roll. “Although I have to admit, you already did that twice now…”

No response. The silence confused him, but when he checked his phone, she hadn’t hung up. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Her reply reached him slowly, like the words were honey in her mouth, sticky and dogged. “To be honest, when you talked to me on the rink, on my first day, I only pretended I didn’t remember you.”

Only a few things gave and could have given him as much happiness as her confession in this moment. Maybe he should be less obvious about it, but he wasn’t the person to pretend modesty. “Ha! I knew it! I knew it, I knew it!”

Luna sighed.

“I already regret telling you”, she informed him, but her words had the contrary effect and he only grinned more.

“You can’t, this is the best gift I have ever gotten! You won’t believe me, but this was actually eating me up from the inside.”

Silence, once more. Hopefully, she didn’t really regret telling him, or calling him. Not that he truly believed she did, conversations like this happened all the time between them, so much in fact that Gastón lamented over and over again about how pathetic and desperate they were.

Maybe they were, but Matteo wouldn’t trade these banters for anything in the whole wide world.

“Are you still there?”, he asked into the quiet.

“Unfortunately, yes. Just like your ego”, Luna said and surely he didn’t imagine the huffing sound that came from an amused snort.

“My ego is not that big”, Matteo argued, smirking, “Seriously, I’m not even arrogant, I only rightfully acknowledge how great I am, and there’s nothing wrong about that, don’t you agree?”

As no answer came, he checked his signal, but it was as good as ever, so why was Luna constantly absent? She wasn’t one to daydream. During their phone calls, at least.

“Hey, chica delivery! Are you listening?” he gave it one last shot.

“Mh, what did you say, Matteo?”

Then, just like that, the line went dead.

The line went dead, and his body felt everything but dead, it felt so alive, like thunder and rain and the eruption of a volcano and he felt too confused to even remember how to breathe.

What did you say, Matteo?

#soy luna #lutteo #my sl fanfiction #a sound so sweet of you and me #oops is that a cliffhanger I see #hehe my bad #if anyone has any theories as to what happens next I'd love to hear all of them

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iamsonyeondone · 7 years ago

Text

sunshine // lee daehwi

+ high school! & bff! lee daehwi

+ so fluffy! and meh angst

+ 2.3k words

+ summary: you had your doubts on confessing to your best friends, but was it all unnecessary worrying?

+ requested by the sweetest daennie aka daehwi anon ( I HOPE THIS IS FLUFFY ENOUGH 4 U)

It was yet another school day as you stretched your limbs from the deep sleep you had just woken up from. It had been a while since you had dreaded school, and although you still hated the environment, you were definitely looking forward to the group of people you had called your second home. Without more time to waste, you swung your legs over your bed as you began yet another day.

"(Y/N)!!" A familiar voice echoed through the school corridors, the sense of uneasiness among the crowd of unfamiliar students had finally subsided as you searched the crowd for a certain someone. Once you caught sight of him, you heaved a sigh of relief, closing your locker shut and adjusting the strap of your backpack.

"What took you so long today?" You sighed as Daehwi chuckled before squeezing you into one of your favourite hugs. His simple gestures would wipe away all the negativity that surrounded you as you felt at peace being around him.

"Oh, nothing. I just felt like sleeping a little longer," He shrugged as he instinctively linked his arm with yours as the both of you headed to your first class together.

The students seem to think that you were oblivious towards them as they whispered and snickered at you, pointing towards your arm that was linked with Daehwi's. This was a daily occurrence - the whole school was unsure if the both of you were finally dating or if it's just because the both of you were very close friends. How could you guys not be stuck to the hip when you had practically been friends since you and Daehwi were in the womb?

You shook your head out of your thoughts, thinking of dating Daehwi could be a possibility but if the feelings weren't mutual, you felt that it was better to cherish the friendship instead. Who wouldn't fall in love with a sweet, and caring friend like him? Sure, there had been times you wanted to lock him up for revealig your embarrassing childhood moments to anyone. But losing a friend was the last thing you needed, you thought as the both of you entered the classroom and detaching from each other once you had to occupy your seat.

"What's up, kid?" Woojin greeted you as he slung his arm around your shoulder. You grumbled, the only thing to satisfy your train of outrageous thoughts was to fill your empty stomach. Jihoon tried to hold in his laughter when he saw the sight of your furrowed brows and your adorable pout.

"Well, someone's not in a good mood. What's got you so riled up? Let me guess... it's sunshine isn't it?" At the mention of his code name, you glared at Jihoon, worried that Daehwi would hear from wherever he was and connect the dots and find out about your little crush.

"Can we stop talking about him and go eat? I'm starving and if anyone tries to pick food off my plate, will have their eyes scooped out of their heads," You sighed, adjusting your shirt as your pace quickened towards the canteen.

"Who's getting their eyes scooped out?" Daehwi's voice popped up out of nowhere as you yelped in surprise. You looked towards your right as you see Daehwi looking towards you with a confused look on his face as he caught up to you.

"N-nothing. Let's go to the canteen before my favourite bread runs out," You mumbled as you dragged Daehwi away from your beloved seniors you hate yet loved. Taking another step beside them and they would have released your little secret.

You strolled around school with Daehwi as you munched on your bread, a routine the both of you had imbedded in your brains as it naturally became an instinct to wander aimlessly around the school grounds while the both of you tell stories about each other's day and the happenings of whichever class the other wasn't in. Daehwi seemed happier today, a spring in his step as he barely took a few bites from his pastry. You've seen how a person who was in love would act - Woojin had given you an example when he had a crush on a girl from his chemistry class but it seems that the both of them didn't have any chemistry between each other. And the first question that popped up was, who had made Daehwi so head over heels for them?

"And then Mr Yoon almost tripped on the piece of paper that Yoojung accidentally dropped, that she laughed till she fell of her own seat! You should've seen the chain reaction of that. Everyone started laughing and falling off of their seat because of Yoojung," He clasped onto his stomach as he let out a loud laugh, reminiscing the event that had just happened in his previous class. He seemed joyful thinking of Yoojung but you couldn't jump the gun and think that Daehwi had his eyes on her. It was a battle between your emotions and your rational side, the topic making you even more stressed than your exams.

"So what about you? What happened in Mr Hwang's class?" He finally caught his breath, wiping a tear that managed to escape as his wide smile was still plastered onto his face.

"Nothing much. He kept punishing this guy in my class for leaving his snack wrappers all over the place though. The poor guy was sent outside as punishment," You shook his head as Daehwi listened intently. But once you cut your story to the end, Daehwi felt uncomfortable. There was never a day where you would be so dull over spilling your stories, and laughing over simple things with him. Something was up and Daehwi needed to find out why.

"Hey, you alright? You seem a little tired lately and you've been pretty forgetful too," Daehwi questioned you as he began nibbling onto his pastry, his eyes never leaving yours. You shook your head as you mustered the best smile you could show him.

"I'm fine, Daehwi. Besides, you better finish that up because lunch is ending in five minutes," You chuckled, changing the topic at the speed of lightning as you threw the wrapper of your bread into a nearby trash can. You knew Daehwi wouldn't be able to leave your side if you had hesitated even if it was just a little bit. And you couldn't simply tell him that you were annoyed at the fact that he was happier talking about a girl that was just his classmate. It would have not only exposed your crush on him but it could have also ruined one of the best friendships you have ever had.

Once the school bell rang to indicate the end of school, you sighed in relief as you slung your bag over your shoulder and fetched out your phone from your pocket. You raised your brow in surprise as you stared at the contact name displayed on the screen. Daehwi had never been so straightforward and it was rare to see him sending you a text that had no emojis to go along with it. It was simple, dull and straight to the point that it almost felt like you weren't talking to the same person

D(olphin)aehwi : meet me at the art room right after school.

You tilted your head in confusion as you unlocked your phone and checked your messages if what you were seeing was right. But once you saw the message right under his name, there was nothing else fooling you. Was he mad? He would usually cut his sentences short whenever that happens but he would only do that to those he was angry with. Maybe he's mad at you? But he would never get unreasonably angry. And soon the waves of doubt and worry washed over you as your fingers began to get fidgety.

Your walk to the art room felt treacherous. You could feel eyes gazing upon you like a predator on a prey when everyone else was actually minding their own business. You never thought that a simple message could eat away at your thoughts as your mind became preoccupied to the point where you began to become oblivious of your surroundings as your anxiety levels have yet to stop rising ever since you received the text.

Without knowing, you had arrived right in front of the art room door, unable to look through the windows that were covered by canvases and sculptures, and having absolutely no idea what you were about to face. You inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly to regulate your irregular breathing pattern and brushed through your hair to ensure that you looked presentable and not like the mess that you felt boiling in the depths of your mind.

Once you turned the door knob, you were bombarded with screams and loud popping sounds as you shut your eyes tight and clasped onto your dear eardrums instinctively. You felt a soft hand reach up towards yours, bringing them away from your face as your eyes slowly opened to reveal a face you didn't know you had longed to see. Or in particular, a relaxed and delighted expression on his face was something you needed to assure yourself with.

"Did you really forget your own birthday,(Y/N)? Thank goodness you have me around or else you'd never know how old you've become," he teased as he showed you your favourite cake right in front of you with candles dwindling in the wind.

"Hey! I'm not that old," You had unknowingly relaxed in his presence as you nudged him slightly, afraid that your strength could topple the cake over along with your best friend. You looked around the room to see decorations hanging from the ceiling and helium balloons dangling with pictures hanging from each string. Your eyes were amazed at the sight as you held onto the first photo you saw of the both of you playing in the neighborhood's playground when the both of you were still too young to form proper sentences. The next photo was the first day of preschool, holding tightly onto his little fingers as you timidly looked up into the camera lens. The following picture was one of your favourites. It was of the both of you in middle school as the both of you fell asleep in each other's embrace as your mother sent you home. All of the pictures was like a trip down memory lane as you reminisced the moments you had enjoyed, hated, and cherished through the years. And one of the factors that never changed was Daehwi. He may have changed in appearance wise but he was always by your side.

Your eyes began to brim with tears as you looked through the photos, tracing every single one of them, as if wanting to relive the moment. Daehwi noticed as he placed the cake onto a nearby desk and grabbing onto your shoulders to pull you into a hug. You were alerted from the sudden gesture, your posture stiffening but soon melting when you felt like you fit just right in his arms. You could smell his fresh cologne as your face nuzzled into his chest, your tears being absorbed into the fabric as you sobbed quietly.

"I thought I could confess to you in a romantic way but I should have known you were sucker for these kinds of things," he chuckled nervously, tightening his arms around you as he laid his head onto your shoulder. Your posture stiffened once more at his words as your heart began to beat right out of your chest as you began to worry if he could feel how panicked you were in that moment.

"I know this seems abrupt but you never really caught on to the things I've done for you and only you, so I felt that it was time to finally let the secret out," he sighed as he reluctantly pulled you away from him, wanting to catch a glimpse of your expression as his trembling and clammy hands held onto yours. "You probably know how terrible I am at this but bare with me. (Y/N), I've fallen in love with your weird ways and your adorable side that only I get to see. I don't know when it happened but I was sure when I realized the thumping yet comforting feeling in my chest only happened when you were around, telling me about your day or whenever you pull an unexpected slapstick," he chuckled before continuing, " I'm in love with you, (Y/N). And I would scream if I get to call you my girlfriend. So, will you be mine?" He asked shyly as he let out a shaky breath. You looked back into his sincere and hopeful eyes, a nervous smile adorning his face as the light perfectly bounced off of his soft yet sharp features. Your heart was pounding right out of your chest as you held onto his hands tighter, not wanting to let go of him, not even for a second. And when you finally realized that it was the last thing you wanted to experience - a one-sided love - a bright smile crept onto your lips as a giggle escaped them, unable to restrain the joy that filled your chest.

"You can never imagine how long I wanted to hear those words," You laughed as you pulled him closer, embracing him tightly with every fibre of your being as he let out a choked chuckle, taken by surprise by your sudden action. Once you had loosen your hold on him to take a better look at his expression, Daehwi's face was bright red, his smile reaching his ears as he cupped your cheeks gently, closing the distance between the both of you once more as your lips collide - it was an unfamiliar feeling yet you craved for it even when it hadn't ended as you melt into his arms as he did too in yours. You felt his lips tug into smile as it still took its place on yours before he pulled away to cover the redness in his cheeks that had began to spread to the tips of his ears. But before you could pull his hand away teasingly, he screamed with joy as he fist pumped the air - just as he said in his heart-warming confession. Even after his silly shenanigans, you couldn't help but to fall deeper in love with your best friend.

A/N: finally an update ;-; sorry if there's mistakes because I'm currently posting this at 4 am so HEH I've been MIA lately ever since i got my GCSE results back but I'm finally accepting reality and getting back into things so hopefully I can update weekly from now on because you guys really deserve better content :') !! I hope all of you are doing well and having a good day/night ❤

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lunaschild2016 · 7 years ago

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Stand Alone: Chapter 7

A little something I cooked up while editing and working on Worth Fighting For; which I will be posting a chapter for in the next couple of days! In the meantime hope you enjoy this story. Will be a short but hopefully good one.

Rating T/M ( Language, Violence, There will be smut, Angst, Tragedy, Romance, Fluff)

@kenzieam @pathybo @jaihardy @ericdauntless @beautifulramblingbrains @bookgirlthings @jojuarez26 @oddsnendsfanfics @offroadinjandals @singingpeople @iammarylastar @irasancti @captstefanbrandt @clublulu333 @fuckthatfeeling @tigpooh67 @ex-bookjunky @jughead-wuz-here @badassbaker @beanzjellly @beltz2016 @meganbee15 @affabletimelady @scorpio2009 @gylisaa @geekybeyondallreason @violetsonthelam

[Choosing age is 16. OC transferred year after Eric. Tris and Co. came in the next year. This begins a year after Tris comes to Dauntless. Tori Wu is younger than the books but six years older than OC]

Inspired by the song; Stand Alone by Generdyn ft. Zayde Wolfe

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Thank you guys so much for all the love the story is getting. It has made my week!

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Chapter 7

Strange dreams and visions visited Bree interspersed with tormenting pain and memories. When these instances occurred they would always be followed by rough hands upon her skin or hair, mumbling that she couldn’t make sense of before she was floating away. Any trace of the pain was leached away by whatever she was being coaxed to drink; blissful quiet and dark took the memories away as well.

Eric kept a close watch on Elle, and anytime she started to come around but was still locked in what he knew had to be bad dreams, he was there to soothe her back to rest. He thought nothing of all the things that come with the care of someone injured and unable to do so for themselves. It was compartmental-ism in how he was seeing her while being her caretaker. Any lustful or inappropriate thoughts were on tight lock down.

Four and Zeke had left at first light after resting as much as possible. The morning they left Four had woken to find Eric outside, sipping coffee and looking out over what he admitted, was a stunning view now that it was light.

Helping himself to a cup of coffee he joined Eric where they sat drinking their beverage in about as companionable silence as they had ever experienced before. Sometime during the night the old grudges and animosity fell away.

“It struck me last night, this question of what if.” Eric started out, breaking the silence of the new morning. “What if we had let go of all that shit long ago and tried working together instead of against each other? Would it have made a bit of difference to what ended up happening? The only reason I hated you so much and harbored such a grudge against you was because your placing first and being offered the leadership position; it threatened everything that I knew I had to do and become to work against Jeanine.”

Eric looked over to Four to see his surprised and shocked expression.

“At one point back then I had been ok with if you took leadership, or I would have been if I thought you could or would be willing to do what needed to be done or even just help me. When you turned the position down though, the resentment turned to disgust because to me it was like you didn’t have the guts to stand up for what was right.” Eric took a breath and looked away. “I never stopped to ask myself if you even knew there was something like what I was trying to work against on the horizon. I never even asked why you would turn it down. I just assumed it was because you were scared of your father but that wasn’t why you did it, was it?”

Four tilted his head and shook it. “No it wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, the thought of having to see him or interact with him didn’t exactly appeal to me and if I could get out of it, I would have. The bigger issues for me were all about me being able to control myself. I have his blood coursing through me, but I also have my mother’s too. Both of my parents were poor examples for any child to follow as proven by their power hungry and destructive ends. I was afraid of what I would do with power if I had it. I was also afraid of the times I knew I would need to face him and if I would be able to control myself from putting him six feet under or just cripple him. When I found out about my mother, this was just doubled. The thought in my mind was, they couldn’t have started out like they were, at least I don’t remember my mother always being like she was towards the end of her life. What if I started out just fine but something in me that they both had, changed me and I became them?”

Eric nodded in understanding. “What do you think now? Do you think that would or will happen?”

Four shrugs with a frown. “Maybe being aware that I don’t want to end up like that will be enough to curb anything should I start in that direction. It probably also helps…” he stopped and a small lopsided smile started to form “...it also helps I have someone like Tris to stand beside me. To kick my ass back straight when I need it. So maybe it takes both, self awareness but also someone there by your side to help you that you trust and love.”

His words resounded with Eric and some kind of bridge was created between the two men. Zeke joined them soon after and they all talked more about the plans for leaving the city and who made up the group leaving. Eric had to agree with Zeke about trying to talk Tris out of letting Peter go along with them.

He might have saved Tris but he had flipped flopped sides and behavior too much to be trusted. Four wasn’t sure if he could convince Tris of this mentality but when Eric suggested they talk to Johanna and get her to talk to Tris he said he would.

Eric had walked them as far as the drop point for supplies before he raced back to the cabin. There was a note from Johanna that more supplies would be brought by cart for preparation of Brendan staying there but also for tending to Elle. She couldn’t be left on her own for long periods of time so most all his normal routine was halted. His next days and even nights were spent in that armchair beside her bed and any signs of pain were taken care of immediately.

It was a week before she stayed lucid for any significant amount of time. She was still confused and muddled, nowhere near ready to come off the pain medication but had tried to put off getting another dose until she tried to get more information. There were things she needed to know and needed Eric to know.

“How long have I been out of it?” Was the first question she had and it was slurred in a broken voice.

This was asked in the middle of Eric tending to her. When she noticed something that looked like a bedpan, she had felt a hazed mortification and weakly asked if she could use the bathroom herself. Having to be carried there wasn’t that much better but she considered it the lesser of evils of the two options.

Just the act of sitting up for that long left her tired and in pain.

“You have been here about a week but most of that has been heavily medicated and sedated. I had some healing serums and some more were dropped with the last supply delivery.” Eric informed her as he helped get her settled, gave her some more meds and water, then sat back down beside her.

Whatever she was given worked fast so with a panic she asked as many questions as she could. Or rather she tried to but they just came out as names.

“Brendan? Tris and Chris?” Then one name that floated to her mind made her remember the last event she clearly remembered. Fat hot tears rolled from her eyes and she gasped in pain of a different kind. “Tori!”

Her broken sob tore at him and without thinking he laid himself beside her and took her in his arms. Like in that room back in Dauntless he comforted her like it was second nature.

He didn’t try and tell her it would be ok because he was still struggling himself to be ok. He did hold her though until the small sobs stopped and her body relaxing suggested she was asleep once again.

Eric debated with himself but in the end he stayed where he was and joined her in much needed rest.

The next time Elle woke was to Eric stretched out beside her instead of hunched over asleep in the chair that looked a dolls chair with his large frame in it. She was slightly more alert but still unable to move much. The light coming from the window of the bedroom indicated it was late afternoon, maybe closer to dusk.

She remembered Eric taking her in his arms just before she surrendered to sleep. He was still close but had moved to his side with an arm around her waist. He looked so different from the man she always knew and the one she left a few months ago.

He had grown his hair so that the top of it had a mass of curls while the sides he had always kept so closely shaved were growing in. A beard covered his face, hiding the severe jawline while somehow accenting his lips.

The most notable difference was the lack of tattoos on his neck. His leader tattoos that he worked so hard and sacrificed so much for.

She lifted a hand and softly ran her fingers along the area where she remembered the symmetrical shapes had lived. There had been a time she had fantasized about doing just what she was doing now, but never without the bold black ink present.

Eric had felt her moving and remained quiet, eyes closed and waiting for her reaction to him being in bed with her. He had meant to wake long before now and take care of a few things. Including making a soup or stew for her to eat now that she was awake enough to do so.

She hadn’t said anything and he was just about to open his eyes to see if she had fallen back to sleep when he felt the light touch of her fingers at his neck. His eyes popped open and he looked at her to find her absorbed in the path her fingertips were taking. The path his former tattoos once made.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered so softly, thinking he was still asleep. She gave a slight jerk when his hand rose to gently engulf hers.

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for, Brielle.” He replied firmly even if his tone was gentle as well.

“Don’t I?” She said in a broken whisper but refused to give in to tears again.

Eric sighed and reached out, placing his hand to the side of her face gently. “Just like you believing in me so strongly...that I had done everything I could to help in the way I could; you did the same thing Elle. I don’t know that given what we were up against….anything could have stopped it but we had to try right? You had to try.”

“The cost though...so many...they are gone and I can’t help but feel I did this.” Elle admitted and gritted her teeth angrily.

“I feel the same way. I think we all are going to feel that way. Taking blame on ourselves because we can’t imagine there wasn’t something we could have or should have done differently.”

They sank into quiet again as they drew comfort from each other’s presence but also their shared feelings. Elle did drift in and out of sleep but didn’t have to take any medications. Eric watched her for a bit longer then got out of bed and went to make them both something to eat while he was lost in his own mind and feelings.

When it was ready he went to wake her up and once again helped to get her settled. It was just a simple soup that she drank from the large mug he brought it in. A few slices of bread were on a plate and Elle wrinkled her nose at it.

She saw Eric tearing into a few slices of his own and scooping up broth from his bowl. A chuckle bubbled from her and turned into a laugh.

“That explains the new softer Eric. Your all hopped up on peace and love serums!”

Eric had finished eating his last scoop full and had quirked an eyebrow at the unexpected and sudden laughter from her. Not that it wasn’t welcome. When he heard the reason he got a broad grin and shrugged with a playful wink.

“When in Rome right?” He laughed at her expression then shook his head. “Nah, there isn’t any of the usual serums in the bread delivered here. Apparently the old man claimed some kind of violent allergy to them so anything left or delivered is free of it. Johanna reassured me of that after the disaster of my first attempt to make my own bread.”

“Ok...now I know I have to be in some kind of drug induced dream. You tried to bake bread?” Elle asked but snagged the piece of bread on her plate that Eric had started eyeing.

He glared at her for a second but then sighed. “I thought, how hard can that shit be? Apparently it is a ‘delicate’ process. I was able to make a pretty decent cake though.”

The two of them both gave a slight wistful sigh and spoke at the same time. “I’ll miss Dauntless cake.”

It was with blushing and laughs they finished the light dinner. And after they were done and he had gotten her ready for bed, then her medications; she reached for his hand when he would have settled himself in the chair again.

“You can use the bed too.” Her voice and suggestion was timid and she hoped it sounded weak because of the fast working medications.

Eric bit his bottom lip and worried it in contemplation. “Are you sure?”

She gave a small nod. “If you want. I trust you and it isn’t fair for you to sleep on that tiny chair or couch.”

He was going to protest about fairness but in truth he wanted nothing more. So he moved to the other side of the bed after nodding to her with a reassuring smile and slid under the covers beside her.

Her whispered ‘goodnight’ seemed to echo in the quiet darkness. He returned it with his own whispered goodnight as he felt her already fading beside him. Then he pulled her to him as he let himself fade as well.

#fanfiction #divergent fanfiction #divergent au #eric coulter fanfiction #eric x oc #eric coulter #oc #angst #tragedy #romance #fluff #smutt #jai courtney #michelle trachtenberg

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sweetlysilent · 8 years ago

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Opposites Attract

Requested By: @jackmutherfqknfrost

I’m not sure if request are open but if they are I have an idea for a Jughead x Reader prompt. I’m not sure if you have seen Sons of Anarchy but its pretty much about a motorcycle gang. Anyway, I was thinking that the SOAs could be a rival gang of the Serpents and the reader is the daughter of the leader of the gang, but Jughead doesn’t know. Maybe there could be some conflict between Jughead and the reader when he finds out. Idk, I thought it would be an interesting idea.

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: Everyone in town knew that the SOA’s and the Serpents were enemies of one another. Over the years they clashed, whether it was over clients, family, and money. No one dared to cross into the territories they owned, until you did. You were the leaders daughter of the SOA, and Jughead was the son of the Serpent leader. You knew this, but Jughead didn’t, until one day when he found out, creating a conflict nobody was prepared for.

Warnings: Some swearing, a few fights, sad plot twist ending

Word Count: 2,970

A/N: This was really fun to create and write, I did kind of put my twist on the plot though so I hope you like it! I had never seen SOA before so bare with me. It gets kind of intense so be prepared. I really wanted to go into depth of what could happen in situations like these.

It was like every other night in the town of Riverdale, you were in Pop's diner with your friends, Archie, Veronica, Betty, and Jughead.

This was the go to place to hangout, you all were basically regulars there.

Everything was great, you were all laughing, drinking milkshakes and overall just having a fun time together.

The next thing that happened seemed to go in slow motion.

You had felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, making your focus drift from your friends to see who was calling you.

When you saw it was your father you instantly knew something was wrong, he never called you unless it was important.

You excused yourself out, walking outside and pressing your phone to your ear.

"Y/N! You need to get home now! Something happened." Your father yelled into the phone, making your whole body freeze.

You were waiting for him to say more, but instead he hung up the phone.

You blinked rapidly trying to process what he had just told you, something happened.

You didn't have time to explain to your friends what was going on, you just rushed back inside, grabbing your keys and mentioning that you 'had to go' and ran out the door.

When you arrived home, you saw everyone in your club there, making your heart drop.

You shoved your way through everyone to find your dad talking to another club member.

"Dad what's going on?" You spoke frantically, looking at him with panic filled eyes.

Your dad let out a deep sigh, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N, one of our warehouses.. it was destroyed.." He spoke sternly, making you freeze once again.

"Which one?" You questioned, making your dad close his eyes and take a deep breath.

"The one with all our guns. They're gone Y/N, even yours." He sighed angrily, giving you a hug.

You didn't know how to express how you felt in that moment, whether it was sadness, or anger, but you knew one thing was for sure, you wanted revenge.

When you arrived at school the next day your friends asked you what had happened, you wanted to tell them the truth, but you couldn't, so you made up a lie like usual.

Nobody knew you were the leaders daughter of the SOA, and that's how it was meant to be, if people knew, it would get ugly real fast.

After a month had passed since the incident you still felt that rage deep down, your father had told you he suspected the Serpents to have done it.

You however didn't want to believe that, but there was really no other group that hated the SOA like the Serpents did.

Months went on, things were finally getting back to normal, the SOA's warehouse was repaired and restocked.

You and your friends were happy and living a somewhat 'normal' teenage life, until the death of Jason Blossom.

This tragedy brought lots of attention towards the Serpents and the SOA, which made you infuriated.

You knew that people would try to blame your family, but it was getting out of hand.

You wanted to be able to vent to your friends, but if they found out they would probably disown you just like anyone else would.

Deep down that rage from months ago were still there, and it was slowly sneaking out whether you wanted it to or not.

"Y/N." Betty waved her hands in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance.

"Hmm?" You hummed, looking up at the blonde haired girl in front of you.

"I was asking you on what you thought the title should be for this weeks paper." Betty smiled eagerly, making your roll your eyes slightly.

Thankfully she wasn't paying attention, but at the same time you wish she had.

"Okay so do you like 'Jason Blossom, Accident or Murder' or-- 'Jason Blossom, Caught In The Middle Between Two Rivals.'" She glanced up from her computer a bright smile on her face, until she saw yours.

You sat there with a stone face expression, the sound of 'rivals' made you fill with rage.

"You know what Betty, it's not always about rivals!" You shouted, grabbing your belongings and rushing out of The Blue and Gold.

Left behind was a stunned Betty, unsure of what had just happened, and where all the anger came from out of nowhere.

You weren't going to lie, it felt good to shout, but at the same time you felt terrible, it wasn't Betty's fault, she didn't deserve that.

You couldn't handle being at school the rest of that day, so you decided to go to Pop's, the one place that was open twenty-four hours a day.

You ordered your usual milkshake and sat down in the booth you and your friends always sat in.

You leaned your head back against the cushion, trying to slow down your breathing, you heard the bell from the door ring signaling someone had entered the small diner, to your surprise this mystery person sat down across from you.

You opened your eyes to see the one and only Jughead Jones, a playful smile on his lips.

"I didn't see you at lunch, and after hearing what happened with you and Betty I thought I'd come check on you." He grinned slightly, placing his bag next to himself.

"Look Jug, that's really sweet, but now's not really a great time." You sighed, looking down at the table, avoiding eye contact.

He noticed your uneasiness, instantly knowing something was up.

"That outburst you had back at the school, what was that all about?" He questioned, making you start to take deep breaths again.

"She wanted my opinion on the paper." You replied with a monotone voice.

Jughead nodded slowly, trying to put pieces together in his head.

He was about to speak again when your phone vibrated, it was your father once again.

You didn't even have to answer it to know something else horrible had happened.

You excused yourself, leaving a tip and rushing out, making Jughead even more curious.

What you didn't know was that he was following you, soon being the biggest mistake he had ever made.

You shoved your way through the crowds of people, seeing your father.

What came next was something you never expected, there were firetrucks and ambulances.

Once again, everything was moving in slow motion.

You saw some of your family's homes broken into, some that caught on fire, some totally demolished.

You felt as if your insides had just been ripped out of you.

Then came that rage feeling once again, but this time you couldn't contain it.

Out of nowhere angry tears started falling, along with a scream you didn't know you could manage to make.

This surprised everyone, nobody knew how to react, only your dad did, who held you tightly.

Once you calmed down you decided to take a look around, you knew the Serpents had to of done this.

You were sick and tired of their shit, covering up their mistakes, dealing with their attacks over and over.

You turned to leave, but stopped when you came face to face with Jughead.

Your eyes widened, as did his.

"You--" He began, but shut his mouth unable to speak words.

You just stood there, unsure of what to say.

"You're the SOA's daughter?" He questioned, pointing at your dad with an angry look on his face.

"Like you're one to judge Jughead? You're the son of the Serpents!" You shouted, your voice hoarse from the scream and crying.

This caught Jughead off guard, he was unsure of how you knew this when he never even knew who you really were.

"At least my friends knew who I am, unlike you." He glared, making your insides boil.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, walking up to the brunette haired boy.

"You're one to talk about loyalty my friend." You crossed your arms, glaring at the boy in front of you.

"What are you talking about?" He questioned, unsure of what you were trying to hint at.

"Well I'm sure your friends know you have a South Side jacket and that when your not with them, you're a completely different person." You smiled innocently, making him glare at you.

"I'm sure they don't know your dirty little secret either." He spat, wiping the smile off your face quickly.

"And they never will." You glared, backing away from him.

Jughead stood there still, watching you walk away from him.

He didn't understand what just happened, or what he had just found out about you.

This changed everything.

The next day at school was awkward, you and Jughead weren't speaking, which didn't go unnoticed by the group.

"Okay guys I'd love to play guess the problem, but I'd rather you just tell us." Archie spoke up, taking a bite of his sandwich.

You and Jughead both looked at each other, glaring.

"Guys seriously what's going on." Veronica questioned, clearly annoyed.

"Nothing." You replied, taking a sip from your water.

"Everything is fine." Jughead gave a fake smile, making you roll your eyes.

The bell soon rang, everyone took this as their chance to get away from the tension.

Later that day you were once again sitting in the booth at Pop's when Jughead appeared.

"Listen, I know things aren't great between us, but I think we should talk." He sighed, sitting down in front of you.

"Alright." You replied, resting your hands on the table.

"I know that our families are enemies, but that doesn't mean we have to be." He looked at you sadly, making you slowly realize he was right.

You let out a sigh and nodded, agreeing with him.

"You're right Jug, I'm sorry for what I said earlier." You apologized, and he soon apologized to you too.

"I want to know what's happening though Jug, someone keeps attacking and I'm not going to be able to keep myself contained." You sighed angrily, making him place his hand on top of yours.

"We're going to find out whos' doing this I promise." He gave a reassuring smile, making your stomach flutter.

You always had a thing for Jughead, he had that mysterious vibe about him that you loved.

Plus he was also the complete opposite of you.

After the talk in Pop's you went back home, Jughead walking beside you.

What you didn't expect to see was a fight about to happen right before the both of your eyes.

There they were, your family and the Serpents, standing before the two of you.

You and Jughead looked at each other before running to your families.

"Dad what is going on?" You asked frantically, but he wasn't concerned about that.

"What were you doing with that Serpent boy?" He questioned angrily, making you look at Jughead.

"He's my friend, you know this." You tried to explain but it was no use.

What happened next was like it was slow motion all over again.

It all happened so fast.

One minute you were standing next to your dad, then the next there was a loud 'ring' that went throughout the air, echoing.

You glanced down at your shirt, seeing red, lots of it.

You heard shouts saying to 'call 911' and to 'get help' but it was hard for you to stay focused.

You remember moving in front of your dad, protecting him from FP who had fired at him.

You remember hearing Jughead scream and try to protect you, but he was too late.

"Y/N! Y/N stay with me, everything is going to be okay." Jughead held you in his arms, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hey look at me." He smiled worriedly, holding you close.

You blinked rapidly, breathing heavy.

"Isn't it-- funny-- how--" You coughed, spitting up blood, making Jughead bite down on his lip.

You took a deep breath, looking up at the brunette haired boy, realizing how in love you actually were with him.

He looked down at you, fear clearly written all over his face, an ambulance was heard off in the distance.

"Y/N what were you trying to say?" Jughead questioned, looking at you sadly.

You blinked a few times, then spoke up.

"How-- opposites-- attract.." You smiled sadly, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Jughead let out a little laugh, making your stomach flutter once again.

"Yes Y/N, it is." He smiled, seeing your dad rush over to you to help get you into an ambulance.

In that moment Jughead knew he was in love with you, he was angry he had never seen it before until now.

Jughead rode with your dad in the ambulance, he never once let go of your hand.

Doctors were doing everything they could.

You looked at your dad, then at Jughead, you gave a sad smile.

You squeezed your dads hand, then Jugheads.

"I love you dad, and I love you Jughead." You choked out, more tears falling down your cheeks.

"I love you too Y/N, so much sweetheart." Your dad smiled, kissing the top of your hand.

"I love you too Y/N, I'm sorry it took me that long to realize it." Jughead smiled, rubbing the top of your hand with his thumb.

That day everything changed, the small town of Riverdale wouldn't just be remembering Jason Blossom, but also Y/N.

Your dad was a mess when he found out you didn't make it during surgery, and Jughead, he was a complete disaster.

Archie, Betty, and Veronica weren't much better, but they stood strong to help Jughead.

A few days later they held your memorial, people gave heart filled speeches, laying flowers down.

Opposites do attract, whether they're good or bad, even if there is bad, good is still deep down somewhere and that's what Jughead lived by.

He was always going to remember you, his other half.

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