#can't believe I didn't draw the crow's feet...
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eggsrblue · 29 days ago
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totally forgot about my more recent drawing of Serge <3
silly old man
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sweetbillwriting · 5 months ago
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In The Dead of Night
ELEVEN
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Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)
Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.
×
“He was in a coma six months ago? For how long?” I asked in shock, but Robin didn't react to it.
“A month, I think? I learned about it after a couple of weeks. His friends didn't know if they should call me and... Heroin. I thought he had stopped with that shit, but one of his weird friends told me he had overdosed on purpose because of depression.”
I looked down at the ground, thinking back on my dreams. Could it be that Eric was in a coma? Believing he was dead? I dragged my hands over my face and shook my head in disbelief. I had started to believe the dreams were just dreams, but now I thought back on it again. The Spotify playlist, the name of his biological mom, the places and drawings he had shown me... Could he in some way visit my dreams while he was in a coma?
“Are you listening?” Asked Robin a little irritated, and I nodded.
“Yeah, yeah. It's just so much… He hasn't told me this.”
“He's probably embarrassed. He has overdosed twice and lived while other people who do something with their lives die of diseases. He gets saved.”
I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, trying to digest everything. I started to get a headache from it all and dragged my hands through my hair, but still I had questions.
“Do you see him as your brother? You cried when you found out he was in a coma, but you talk about him like an invader in your family.”
Robin bent down in a similar way as I and looked down at Odin laying on the ground.
“No. He's just Eric to me. He's my parents foster kid, but he's nothing to me. I get that sounds harsh, but I never understood who he was as a kid, and then in my teens he moved in with us permanently and made everything difficult. But… They also favored him so hard. Dad cut down work hours to be home with him; mom was with him all the time, and they gave him expensive gifts, and we traveled more.”
I looked at Robin’s sad face and how he dragged his feet through the wet leaves on the ground. Maybe it was actually true? Maybe they actually gave Eric all that. I could imagine they wanted to give him all the things he had never gotten to lay a bandage over the abuse and trauma his mom caused him, but it was too much to not get Robin's attention. On top of that, Eric had magical powers? I wanted to laugh at my own thoughts but couldn't do that when Robin sat next to me, but it really seemed like Eric was something more. He talked with animals, was kind to everyone, liked by everyone, and could escape death and visit my dreams. He sounded like a Disney princess.
Robin was quiet just like me for a while, but he wasn't thinking about Snow White; he prepared a confession.
“I never told mom and dad I was gay... It would have given them one more reason to love him more than me. Instead, I was the weird one, never meeting a girl. Did you know he slept with my best friend? And later, two other friends. He was clearly straight and on top of that an asshole. Now he has slept with a fourth friend of mine…”
I looked at Robin up and down uncomfortably. I didn't want to believe Eric had slept with his friends, but I could also see how that could have happened. Eric had been tall, hot, and sexy since his late teens, and on top of that, he had taken drugs then already. I swallowed hard when I thought about how many he probably had slept with.
“I'm sorry, Robin... I don't even know what to say, but… He didn't know we were friends. I've lied to him too…”
Robin shook his head to himself and looked down at his hands playing with Odin's leash, then he sighed.
“I guess I can't decide who you date… But can you promise me you will never force me to like him? And that you're careful? He is an addict, whatever you say.”
I smiled with relief, happy to have his blessing, but it fell when I thought about Eric. He would never forgive me.
“I don't think we need to talk about that even… He will never forgive me…” I took a deep breath to calm myself down because I could feel the tears pushing behind my eyes.
“Ehm, before I talk about him, can we go home? I don't want to sit here and ugly cry in front of everyone.”
Robin nodded quickly and fixed Odin's leash around his hand.
“Of course, of course.”
We went to my home, and with a big cup of tea each, I told him about my love for Eric. How he had pulled me in at once and how I couldn't stop myself from loving him from the first time we met.
“I had these dreams about him when I thought he was dead and… He really was everything I ever wanted from a guy. Nothing like Dante, then I met him, and he was the same, and… He really sees me. He really cares for me, and even if you can't see it, he makes me feel safe.”
I cried so hard, I didn't know if Robin could hear me, but it seemed like it. He looked uncomfortable, even upset, but nodded slowly.
“I… Well, okay, I guess. If you feel like that, I will not say that it isn't true; it's just that I can't see anything else than how manipulative and selfish he is. That's my picture of him, but… Clearly, you see other sides in him…”
I nodded and dried my wet cheeks, but new tears came.
“But it's too late now…”
Robin shook his head.
“In rehab, they talk quite a lot about how to ask for forgiveness and to forgive others. If he learned anything there, he would listen. It's worth a try. You should call him.”
I looked at Robin, who met my eyes. It was big of him saying these things even if he didn't like Eric. Once again, I dried my tears, and then I gave him a hug. At least he was a true friend to me.
I waited until Robin had left to call Eric, and then a bit longer after that. I didn't dare at first. Maybe he was really angry and would curse at me. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I thought about leaving it be, so I could imagine him not being angry and grieve what was of our relationship. However, in the long run it wouldn't give me anything, so I collected myself and called him with shaking hands. I heard signal after signal, and the fourth I thought about hanging up, but just when the fifth started, he answered.
“Hey,” he said shortly.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hey… Ehm… I don't know what to say, Eric, more than I'm so, so sorry for… everything,” I said with a dry throat and was forced to even cough after I had spoke.
“Yeah…” he said with his thinking voice. I knew he was in deep thought just in the way he answered.
“I love you. I love you, so so much,” I said desperately. Eric was quiet, so I continued to talk.
“I just wanted to be with you. From the first time I saw your photo, I was—”
Eric cleared his voice awkwardly. It was probably a bit much hearing me explain my love for his photo.
“Maybe, maybe we can talk for real?” He said it in a dreamlike tone, and for a second I would have believed he had smoked marijuana recently, but I knew he often sounded like that when he tried to master his big feelings and sensitive heart. “I can come to you tomorrow?”
My own heart beated hard. I didn't want anything more than that.
“Of course, of course!” I said excitedly, I couldn't contain my happiness.
“Good… I'm sorry, by the way?”
“What? For What?” I answered with a giggle, like he was joking. I couldn't control the euphoria I felt of just knowing I would be close to him soon.
“For what happened with Nick and all that… I guess drugs are the thing I think about when life sucks. Like when you had those extreme menstrual cramps and you asked for—”
“Stop!” I said with a loud laugh, and Eric laughed too. It was a joke, a joke about that time I had such horrible period cramps that my ass cramped so I had begged him for anal sex like it was the only thing that could save my life.
Fortunately, it subsided by itself before we had time to do it, and then it felt awfully scary.
I could hear Eric's sweet little giggle in my ear, and I sighed with love.
“I really love you the most in the entire world, you know.”
“I love you most in the entire world, too, babe,” he said warmly before we hung up.
×××
“I'm sorry, but it sounds super weird you dreamed about me,” he said after thinking about what I had said for a while. I had told him I dreamed about him, but I didn't dare say I believed it was actually him visiting my dreams. It would be too much and sound a bit like an excuse from a stalker.
“It was! After the first time seeing your photo, I started to dream about you, and you were amazing in the dream, just as amazing as you are now, and yeah, I just wanted to meet you for real. And you were so different from Dante. Even the person you were in my dream was everything I wanted.”
Eric looked at me with big eyes and nodded. He put down his cup on the coffee table, then he moved closer to me smoothly.
“You have said many times that Dante was a really bad guy… What does that mean?” He searched my eyes, but I just looked away. I didn't want to talk about Dante like that.
“You can talk to me… I hope you know that.”
I moved closer to Eric and looked into his kind eyes. I was safe with him.
“He hit me a couple of times.”
I looked at Eric's Adam’s apple bob in his throat.
“He hit you?”
“It was just a few times, but I provoked him, so it's just embarrassing to talk about. I don't want people to know how annoying I-”
“Hey!” Said Eric, upset, and it made me jump. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he said softly when he realized he had scared me. “No guy has any right to hit you, even if you're annoying as hell. I don't care what you say about yourself, he is the one in the wrong.” He looked at me seriously but suddenly looked scared. “You know I would never do that, right? I know people say it's a bigger risk for abused kids to become abusive adults, but I would never ever in my life do that. I would kill myself if I ever did that.”
His words were sincere and worried, and his face, cute. I kissed his full lips and dragged my hand over his smooth cheek.
“I know that, Eric. That's why I love you so much. I would never doubt your kindness.” I kissed him again, and it led to us making out a bit. I crawled up in his lap, and he took his chance to pull down my tank top straps so he could play with my chest with his big hands. His lips found a nipple, and once again he sucked so hard it felt like he thought his next dinner was there. I dragged my hands over his head and cradled him against my chest while he found comfort against me.
“My boy… I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you in life…” I whispered and made him look at me, still with my nipple between his lips.
“I'm sorry that your biological mom didn't treat you well and that you met so many others that have hurt you…”
Eric released my nipple and looked away but still lay against my chest.
“I know it's her fault I am the way I am. That I crave... That I need drugs to calm my loud thoughts down, but I'm not mad anymore. She was disturbed. She was sick. The men… They're just faceless idiots to me, so there is no one to be angry with.”
He sounded so mature and calm, and I felt proud and smiled at him a little. It would be a good person like Eric who could see life from that angle.
“But when you are depressed, what is that about?”
He shrugged his shoulders and sat up.
“Depression doesn't always have an explanation. It's just like everything drops for me. Like nothing is important. It just falls to the ground, and I can't see an end. Of course I can have nightmares about the men who kicked me around or the times Linda tied me to the radiator for a day or two.” I gave him an upset look, but he didn't seem to notice. “But it's not those memories that make me depressed. That's just my brain shutting off.”
Eric looked at me and then smiled a little.
“You don't need to look so worried; it was fifteen years ago. And Linda is dead. She died of a failing liver when I was eighteen or something.”
I nodded a little and patted his cheeks. It was hard thinking that a kind soul as Eric had gotten treated like that, and it made both my chest and stomach hurt. I kissed his lips softly a few times, but I noticed quickly that Eric wanted more than that. I giggled when he pulled down my tank top again to touch my chest and when he licked my lips to be able to get permission to dance with my tongue.
Deep tongue kisses made Eric pleasurably groan, and when I moved in his lap, I could clearly feel he was hard. I dragged myself over his sex and could feel his cock grow to its full size in the loose-fit track pants. Eric knew what he wanted but also what I wanted, so he stood up and let me hang around him like a koala bear.
“Am I not heavy?” I said with a giggle. I knew I wasn't for him, but I wanted to hear it.
“Fuck no, you don't weigh a thing.” He said, shaking his head. He probably knew I just wanted to hear that but answered seriously so it would feel even more real for me. I giggled and leaned back while being in his safe arms. I could lean back a long way, and Eric let out a sound of admiration.
“Fuck you're sexy,” he said, and then put me down in bed. His words made me feel my self esteem grow, and I smirked while taking off my clothes while lying in bed. I moved sensually, letting him be my small little audience while I started my masturbation show for him. Eric stood and looked at me with an open mouth and pulled off his big gray t-shirt. I looked at his muscles shamelessly, and even if he was so close, I fantasized about having him even closer. I sat up, drunk of hornyness, and pulled him closer to me with a grip of the elastic to his dark blue pants.
From his navel down to the hem of his pants, I made a small trail of kisses. I licked the lines going down to his groin while teasingly pushing down his pants with his boxers. Eric chuckled a little when I licked closer and closer to his loins and helped me take the last of his clothes when my lips moved closer and closer to the root of his cock. He kicked the pants and boxers away with his socks and then turned around. His idea was to just attack my lips with his, but I stopped him because I wanted to look at him. Eric scratched his ear while I looked at his body up and down.
“Damn boy,” I teased and bit my lip. Eric chuckled, embarrassed but also proudly. He had a hobby you could see clearly how much he worked on, but also, he won a lottery in anatomy.
“Can I fuck you now?” He said and moved closer to me, and I nodded with a giggle. With a smile, he kissed me and moved over me, his body so broad it felt like it swallowed me up. He smelled like one of his expensive perfumes, mixed with herbal tea, and even that smell was intoxicating. With a swift motion, he had pushed me down on my stomach in bed so he could enter me from behind while he held me close to his body. I wonder if I could ever get used to his size or strength. I hoped not because every time he was close, I felt so blessed and protected, and I hoped I would never take that feeling for granted.
×××
Eric fell asleep after our lovemaking; most of the time he had held me up against the wall, and I could see that would even be much for him, but I couldn't deny what a feeling it was to be held like that. I felt small and vulnerable in his arms, full, overwhelmed, and light as air. He had instead held me up by the thighs while also moving in and out of me with fast, hard strokes. No wonder he was tired.
I swept my finger over his nose, following the straight nose bridge out to the upturned tip. He wasn't bothered by it; he just continued to sleep. Warmth rose in my chest while I looked at him, but another feeling started to take over. Hadn't it been very easy for me to be forgiven by him? I had lied and gone behind his back, but he forgave me after just a few minutes, then slept with me in the best way. The last time I saw him, he had also laid in a bed but had asked for drugs. Did that craving just disappear? I thought back to the moment in his bed and what he had said. He had wanted the morphine pills he had seen in the bathroom. Pills I hadn't hidden away before his visit. I stood up from bed and pulled on a floral kimono as I walked to the bathroom on light feet. I know you can guess what I found—nothing. The pills weren't anywhere to be found. I searched over and over in the bathroom, but there weren't any pills. I could feel the panic grow because I didn't want to believe it, but still it was there; Eric had just forgiven me and slept with me to steal my morphine pills.
I stood and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, more or less waiting for the inevitable breakdown. I loved him so much, but he clearly loved other things more than me, even if he had said he loved me most in the entire world. I waited for the breakdown, but it never came; maybe it had just been too much the last few days and there were no tears left.
I walked back to the bedroom, where he still slept with just the cover on his hips. I looked at all the badly made tattoos, the clues to what life he had lived and probably would soon live again. I wondered if he was high on something while we slept together. Maybe it was amphetamine that gave him his stamina. I kicked his shin with my foot over and over. That was the only way I wanted to touch him; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep my cool. I kicked quite hard after a while to make him wake up, and after three hard kicks, he looked up at me confused.
“I'm sorry, have I slept a long time?” He said with a raspy voice and rubbed his eyes.
“Did you just sleep with me to be able to take my pills?” I said crass with furrowed brows. He sat up and scratched his chest. He looked adorable with his big eyes shifting, but for me, that was just proof he had taken them; he couldn't even look at me.
“What?”
“My morphine pills; you have taken them!”
“What? No?”
“God, I never thought this about you, Eric!”
“But I haven't-”
“Don't lie to me!”
“But I-”
“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”
Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.
Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.
I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.
“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.
“I don't have them.”
I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.
I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.
He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.
I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.
“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”
Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.
Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.
I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.
“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.
“I don't have them.”
I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.
I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.
He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.
I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.
“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”
I heard my own words in my head. Had I thrown that in his face, and he hadn't even taken the pills? He must have taken them. Where else were they? I needed to talk to someone, someone that could tell me I had done the right thing. I called Robin with shaking hands, sitting on the toilet lid with legs bobbing up and down in panic.
“My morphine pills were gone, so he must have taken them, but I don't know when he could have done it, but he must have, right? Right? I mean, where are they otherwise? He came here and pretended to be the perfect boyfriend again just to take them!” I rambled with a runny nose.
Robin was quiet on the line. I wasn't prepared for that; I thought he would just say I had done the right thing.
“I have them.”
I didn't understand what he was saying and furrowed my brows in confusion.
“What?”
Robin sighed deeply.
“I'm sorry, I thought I did both of you a favor by taking them away. So he wouldn't be tempted.”
“Huh?” My heart beated hard against my chest.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I had accused Eric of stealing my pills without any proof, and here I now sat with the truth. Eric was really the perfect boyfriend, but I had called him a junkie.
“I didn't want to do a thing out of it because I was afraid you would be angry if I said anything that could be critical to your relationship.”
Robin sounded sincere, but right at that moment I didn't care. I had called Eric a fucking junkie. I thought about his hurt expression but how calm he still continued to be. Always so respectful and sweet, even when hearing such things.
“Oh my god... Oh my god…” I said with a shaking voice and laid a hand over my mouth to cover my sobs.
“I'm really sorry, Della; this wasn't my plan at all!” Said Robin with guilt and stress in his voice. I didn't say anything because I was busy trying to control my tears.
“I would never do such a thing to you. Him, yes, but not you. I can punish him with mom and all that, but I wouldn't-” he interrupted himself, and I could almost hear his panic.
“...how do you punish Eric? What? How do you punish Eric??” I said, upset, and raised my voice. I had a bad feeling—a really bad feeling and ideas about what he had done to Eric spun around in my head.
“Nothing!” Robin sounded mad, but I was quite sure it was a way to mask that he had said way too much.
“Tell me now!”
Robin was quiet on the line. “Is it something about him not seeing Lotti? Huh? Have you kept them from each other?”
Robin sighed like he was irritated, but instead of saying anything, he hung up in my ear.
×
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mask-of-prime · 7 months ago
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VG: Broken Birds
Previous
Next (Coming Soon)
____
The Outlands, Years Ago:
A very young cub Vitani ran into some young jackals that neighbored the Termite Mounds, and she'd confessed to her mother that she had felt a friendship coming on, but Zira snuffed that dream right out. Lions could not be friends with mindless food like little jackals.
"Oh, quit your sniffling. It's going to get you nowhere! Get up before I give you a real reason to cry! NOW!"
"Mother, please! I won't disappoint you again, Mother!" the toddler sobbed.
The young Vitani could feel her mother grabbing her wrist. The older lioness pulled the cub closer.
Suddenly, Zira seemed to change in appearance. She was now much bigger, sported a slick, red mane, and a scar across her right eye. It was now an unknown male lion.
"You're seriously going to let a bunch of crows get to you? Are you a helpless little lower animal like them?!" he screamed.
"Father, I'm sorry-y-y!" Vitani sobbed, except… this was not her voice, nor her body.
"A real lion doesn't sit here and cry! Get up, Zira! NOW!"
The bigger lion's paw came up, looking like it was about to swipe.
Vitani jolted awake, putting a paw over her racing heart. More nightmares of Mother, of course.
Mother…
The images of Zira's sentient waterfall form came back to her vividly. No one would believe her. She didn't even believe herself the more she thought of it.
And her head… it still hurt from… something. Her friends said it had been a fall, right?
This didn't happen. No, none of this happened. She just fell… Right?
SCRATCH, SCRATCH…
The Fiercest gasped and made a small noise. Before she went to investigate, however, she looked around to make sure no one heard her pathetic sound.
Luckily, no. But, only because Tiifu wasn't around. Odd. She'd be wrapped all over Vitani.
Perhaps the watery ghost did exist. Maybe it was a little like the case of Nuka's spirit. Maybe Scar's. Kion defeated Scar's spirit. Had he seen one made of water? How would he have dealt with it? She had to find him...
SCRAPE, SCRATCH…
Vitani leapt to her feet and prowled about around the corridors of the Ponya. Her ears pointed to the noise. At the main part of the Ponya, she saw a bipedal form smearing paint onto the wall with precision.
Vitani looked all around the wall. It was a portrait of her brother and her sister-in-law. She smiled a bit, but it quickly vanished, remembering how disastrous last night went. She digressed, and cleared her throat.
"Um... that's really pretty..."
The mandrill jumped a little. Her hand made a jagged mark of paint on the wall.
"Sorry." Vitani winced, "I know that must've taken hours."
"Oh, that's okay!" the mandrill charmed, "I could make these all day!"
"I really admire the light colors and soft shapes. They really come together to create a distinct style."
"Wow, I didn't know you were so artsy!"
Vitani shrugged, "I mean, everyone makes me plot out patrol maps on the ground in the morning. I think my Guard does that just to watch me draw."
"Oh, right! You're the new Pridelands' Fiercest! What was your name again?"
"Vitani." the lioness introduced, "It's Makini, right?"
"Mmhm!"
"You're, uh... the Mjuzi for Kion and his wife, now --" Vitani rattled her head, "Uh, Kion... Have you seen him? I need to talk to him. Saw some things I can't explain."
"Oh, the Night Pride already started heading back last night. I stayed back to catch up with the Pridelanders and paint —"
Vitani blinked, "What? Why?"
"Why what?"
"W-Why did they leave?!" Vitani began to pace.
"Can't leave the Tree of Life unguarded too long, I guess."
"B-But this is — Wha — I —" the Fiercest began seething, "Dammit!"
Furious, she smacked hard at something with her paw. It had been a husk full of vermillion paint.
Leaving her cloud of rage, she could see that she had gotten the paint all over her paw, and all over Makini's masterpiece.
"I... I am so sorry, I —" Vitani stammered, "I totally ruined your painting —"
"It's okay! I can make a new one any time. I'm always improving!" Makini reassured, "In fact, this gives me an idea..."
The mandrill began to wash the the rest of the painting from the rock with a soaked leaf.
"Here! Why don't you paint how you feel on this rock and maybe I can help you figure out what it means! It's called 'art therapy.'"
Vitani stared into her paint-covered paw. She didn't like the sound of just sitting here for therapy, but Kion was already gone. Kion may have had the advantage of defeating spirits with his Roar, but Makini must've known more about the past and spirits in general. That's what Mjuzis do, right?
Makini was the best option she had, it seemed. Especially with Rafiki opting to stay in his tree more often, lately.
Vitani got a good look at the rock in deep thought of how she would convey her anxieties. She considered Makini's suggestion, and began to make her first move.
Slowly, Vitani took her paw and brought it closer to her canvas. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Wait." she finally said, eyes open.
She tried and tried to remember the images she saw, but they kept changing and becoming unclear due to the deliberate effort to recall them.
"I… I can't remember, now." her teeth gritted, "It's fading too quickly!"
The Mjuzi frowned, "Aww, that's too bad. I forget my dreams a lot, too. I'm pretty forgetful in my waking life too, actually, and Rafiki says I need to work on that if I want to connect with the past. Which, you gotta see all the old paintings to know what paintings to make in the present so everyone in the future will know what to paint in their present -- We were talking about something else, right? What —"
"My dreams, Makini. The whole reason I was painting?"
"Oh yeah! And how you can't recollect the pa — OOOOHH! I got it!" Makini suddenly chimed, "I got just the thing!"
"You do?" Vitani's eyes widened with a slight roll, her jeering tone going unnoticed by the mandrill.
Makini removed the two gourds from her Bakora Staff, opening the lids of each, and — for once — carefully — poured something onto each palm.
"Rafiki told me that these two gourds on my staff represent the past and the future, and I think I know why, now! So, this staff I have right now wasn't originally my staff, it actually belonged to the old Mjuzi at the Tree of Life..."
Vitani nodded rigorously, anxious beyond belief.
"I found these powders left in the gourds! I asked Rafiki what they were, and he said one is called Zamani, and the other is Baadaye. One lets you see visions of your past, and the other lets you see your future! Rafiki told me he used the Baadaye powder on Scar to show him his future. But, we all know Scar didn't listen to his warning."
Vitani looked at Makini's hand. In each palm were powders of a vivid blue and orange. Mystery of its appearance and origin almost gave it a slight radiance.
"Please tell me you know which one is which…" Vitani knew Makini at this point. It would be in-character for this to be the next thing to somehow tragically and comically mess up.
"Actually I do! I remembered their colors! Colors are the one thing I know I can remember good. You need the blue one!" she then inhaled shakily, "Buuuut…"
"Noo…" Vitani whined to herself, shutting her eyes.
"I kinda… sorta… forgot how the powders are applied." Makini shrugged sheepishly.
"Great…" the Fiercest groaned, stepping away as Makini kept the blue powder in her ahand and placed the orange powder back.
"Don't know if you eat it, or — No, certainly doesn't look like you should." the mandrill thought deeper, "Or was it —"
Suddenly, the wind coming from outside swept the blue powder from Makini's hand. Vitani was unfortunately in the splash zone. The powder had blown into her eyes.
Makini bit her lip anxiously, "Or that could work."
"OW! Agghh! Makini, what the —"
"Sorry!" the mandrill winced, "Are you okay?"
The Fiercest frantically began rubbing her eyes with a paw, preparing for the stinging and burning. Oddly, there was none. Instead, however, she felt a numbness. Testing to see if it really was such, she blinked a couple of times. She felt comfortable to fully open them.
She began to see little blooms of blue specks in her view. They were like eye floaters, but they glowed, and morphed into mandala-like patterns until it filled her field of vision.
She saw her surroundings change from a dark cavern to her old termite mound home. Everything was starting to look like where she was in her dream, with a blue tint on everyone and everything.
"Makini, i-it's working!" Vitani gawked, astonished.
Suddenly, where the mandrill would be standing, was instead Zira., who towered over Vitani and was berating her, just like in her dream.
"Oh, quit your sniffling. It's going to get you nowhere! Get up before I give you a real reason to cry! NOW!"
"Mother, please! I won't disappoint you again, Mother!" the toddler sobbed.
Zira's form once again morphed into another lion. It became bulkier with a red mane, and with a scar over his left eye. His voice was raspy and scheming.
"You're seriously going to let a bunch of crows get to you? Are you a helpless little lower animal like them?!"
"I'm sorry-y-y!" the cub sobbed heavily, almost unable to breathe.
"A real lion doesn't sit here and cry! Get up, Zira! NOW!" the red-maned lion yelled.
Zira curled into a ball. She was sobbing, but she felt frustration build up too. It wasn't fair, the way she was being yelled at. But she still failed him. She shouldn't have tried to befriend those crows, as lonely as she was when she would stay over at the Outlands. She mustn't be so desperate to trust just about any animal.
The lion quickly changed his tone as to not completely terrify his little daughter. Screaming wasn't helping, he used a disarming charm that worked on her before.
"You want to be a mighty lion like me, don't you? You want to make the Pride back home proud of you to be one of them, right? I want to be one of them again. Help me, Zira, help the family come back together, and you can see your mother again. Don't you want that?"
Little Zira sniffled, "Yes."
"Yes. There's my mighty lion. Always be stronger than everyone thinks you are. Lions Over All! Lions Over All!" he chanted.
"Wait..." Vitani said aloud, "This is —"
Vitani was seeing way beyond what she recalled in the dream. She realized now that the Zamani hadn't taken her to the recent past, but the distant past.
The vision continued on, and pretty soon, she found herself in a deep, red dystopia. It was the Pridelands, but from an era she'd never known. A time where all animals took on a much more primitive appearance.
She seemed to be chasing a group of a type of animal she hadn't seen in the Pridelands before. Others of her own kind were doing the same thing, even going so far as to needlessly massacring the animals for sport, or as a punishment for existing.
Watching all this activity with a cold and callous gaze was a leonine silhouette standing atop a towering kopje. He sported a familiar mark above his right eye.
"Lions Over All!" he bellowed for all of the ancient land to hear, as if he wanted the lions in the sky to hear him.
"Lions Over All!" the fleet of pillager lions echoed. The message deeply engrained into their minds and hearts.
The visions and voices of these lions of the past had swarmed Vitani. The flashbacks all becoming one and playing back-to-back.
Just then, a gray lioness with eyes and a tuft like Vitani's appeared before her. She spoke with a kind, gentle, and timid voice.
"What's wrong, my little Moonlight?"
The mysterious lioness' appearance fizzled, and there remained Vitani's reflection on a shiny rock. Back to reality.
She yelped and hyperventilated from the bizarre visions. So taken aback by the frightening sights that she felt like she couldn't swallow nor catch her breath. She lied on the ground against the rock, staring upward.
"Vitani!" cried Makini as she bounded over to the lioness, "Vitani! Are you okay?!"
"I... I think I would like some privacy to paint, please." was all the Fiercest could muster, absolutely dazed.
____
Up in the main den lied Kiara. Her eyes filled with tears as she anticipated the future. So many changes were coming their way, and she didn't know how to tell anyone.
"Kiara, honey? May we come in?" asked Nala, who peeked into the entrance.
"It's open." Kiara said flatly.
Nala could still sense Kiara's tension from the humiliation yesterday. It was probably time to talk about it, knowing Kiara's honesty about her feelings.
"Baby, I thought you were finally ready for your coronation. Your dad and I told you we trusted you with the crown."
"I know, Mom, but... everything's changing so much. I don't know what everyone will think about... Just... what if I forget about who I am?"
Kiara was too afraid to say heavier things that were truly on her mind. No, her family wasn't ready.
"Kiara, I know change can be daunting, but sometimes it makes you who you are." Nala rubbed a brow against Kiara's.
"Your mother's right." Sarabi added as she entered the den, "In life, you will always learn about yourself, and become a refined lion. Your father most certainly did, and so did your grandfather."
Sarabi's eyes became glossy at the last part. Her husband would always be a part of her.
Sarafina followed Sarabi, as she always did in life. She had fetched a tortoise shell of fresh, cold water for her granddaughter.
"There ya go, Sweetie." she said, "To calm your nerves, a little."
"Thank you, Nanna." Kiara said sweetly, but still glum.
"Kiara, we trust that you can become a beloved and capable Queen. We've seen your cooperation with herd leaders." Nala said, "And Jasiri. You changed the Outlands forever by welcoming her to the Summit."
"See? Even you've made big changes. You're famous for it! And we can't forget you and that boy Kovu making us all one big, happy family!" Sarafina chimed.
Kiara's heart jumped for a second until she remembered what her Nanna meant. Right. That.
"You're a risktaker, but an openminded and levelheaded one." Sarabi observed.
Kiara smiled nervously, but tears still welled up.
They all saw this, and exchanged concerned looks before they all rubbed foreheads against her in unison.
"Thank you..." Kiara closed her eyes as she embraced them, "But what about Kion...? I totally wasted his time. I made him come all this way just so I could flake on him."
"Kion and Rani would come back in a heartbeat for you." Nala said, "I know Kion doesn't show it a whole lot, but he really wants to see you become Queen."
Kiara again tried to crack a smile, but she was just so touched by her mother's words.
"I need time to figure this out." the Future Queen finally said.
"Alright, we'll give you some space." assured Nala, "Just remember: You will always be yourself, even when you're Queen. The Queens of the Past will guide you, and so will we."
Nala turned away to the exit. The elders looked on at Kiara with love and still with concern before following suit.
Kiara continued sulking long after they left, but she eventually gave into her Nanna's kind gesture of water. Slowly, she dipped her nose into the shell, and lapped up the cool water.
However, as soon as the water reached her stomach, Kiara felt... strange. It's almost like she had lost consciousness, but her body was still up.
Pretty soon, she was trapped in her own body, which began to lick its chops as the water dripped from its chin. Her eyes took on a vivid azure glow as she cracked a grin to herself.
"I feel... much better, now." she said with a sinister tone, one she'd never used before.
____
Finishing her very own masterpiece after several hours of hunched-over work on few hours of sleep, Vitani finally managed to convince herself to sit up and refresh. The lioness had headed over to Lake Shangaza to clean the paint stains from her paws.
As she rinsed her paws, she caught her reflection in the water. She saw her exhausted eyes, and — under her tuft — what appeared to be her gash from last night all patched up.
She wasn't sure if it was the sleep deprivation, or if she'd still been under the effects of the Zamani powder, but when she stared into her reflection in the water long enough, she could swear she saw her mother's ghastly face appear for a moment.
Her body jerked back from the jumpscare. She glanced back to find nothing there. She was confused, and genuinely terrified, even though it may have been an illusion.
Though, this reminded her; perhaps she could contact a ghost she knew was on her side...
She lit a torch and said her summoning phrase:
"Roho ya Moto!"
A puff of fire exploded from the flame of the torch until it resembled her brother.
"What?! What's goin' on?! Where's the danger?!" Nuka whipped around, his paws chopping the air defensively.
"No danger, here." Vitani deadpanned.
"Lookie here, Vitani," he scowled, "You can't just summon me every time you break a claw!"
"Nuka..."
"You know how much energy it takes to —"
"Nuka." she snapped, "I summoned you for a reason. I have a genuine question that only you can answer."
"Fire away." he said bluntly. He'd realized his unintentional pun, and snickered to himself a bit.
"Have you... have you ever seen Mother up there, or... wherever it is you go? What does she look like?"
"Um... not recently?"
Vitani's eyes became curious, "Really? What do you mean recently? What does she look li —"
A raindrop landed on Vitani's nose. She looked up to see dark clouds she hadn't even noticed rolling over the lake.
SIZZLE
"OW!!" Nuka cried.
Vitani looked over to Nuka, and caught a worrying sight: Where there was fire around his being, there was now black, crusty spots that steamed.
"Nuka, what's happening?!"
"Ow, it's the rain! I can't be touched by rain, or I'll turn to smoke!" he cried, trying to blow fire onto himself where there wasn't.
"Well, we gotta get you out of here!" she cried, panicking.
"Ugh, come on, say the phrase!" he grunted as he waved his paws frantically.
"Okay, okay! Errr — Roho ya Moto!" Vitani said rapidly.
POOF!
The flame shrank into the stick shortly before it could be snuffed another, more permanent way.
"Well, that was brief." she muttered, not knowing at all how to feel today.
She couldn't see that in the distance stood a lioness. One who watched her entire interaction with Nuka.
The lioness turned away, back to the direction of Pride Rock.
____
Not too long later, the rain had mysteriously stopped.
Imara and Kasi muttered to each other about the events last night, expressing concern for Kiara along with the odd weather. They spotted Vitani wandering close to Pride Rock. She seemed pensive, but also dazed. After seeing her stumble a bit, they rushed their stroll.
"Hey, 'Tani." greeted Kasi, characteristically arriving first.
"We're about to head to our patrol routes." added Imara, "We split into groups, today."
"Taz and Shabs already headed out." Kasi said, "You wanna go with them, or us? Please pick us..."
Imara nudged Kasi. The smaller lioness got a better look at her tired friend.
"Hey, you good?" asked the Fastest.
"Um, yeah..." Vitani slowly shook her head, "Headache."
"Right. You probably don't wanna be out here, huh?" Imara said, "You fell pretty bad."
Vitani's memories of her interaction with her mother suddenly flashed back into her mind, along with the frustration with Nuka, and her visions she painted. This day was chaotic, and she just couldn't think of it anymore.
"Uhh, you know what?" she smirked, "I'll go. Joining Team Kasi and Imara."
The two in question exchanged looks. They eventually shrugged, and let their friend take the lead.
____
"Right this way, Rafiki! I can't wait to show you Vitani's work!" Makini beamed with delight as she took the elder's hand and guided him to the Ponya.
"Yes, yes, Makini, I'm coming." said the old monkey. It was difficult to catch up to his protege, now that he was without his staff, and for a long time, now.
"Welp, here it is! Could you believe a lion made all of this? With her paws?!"
"Hmm..."
Rafiki put a hand on his chin and looked all around the walls of the Ponya, noting many changes outside of just Vitani's work. There were detailed paintings all around made by Makini. He smiled a wrinkled and weary smile to himself, feeling proud and confident in his successor, and hoped she could frequent the Pridelands more.
"Vitani's been feeling a little stressed, lately. So I told her to paint her feelings."
“Hmm, yes. Art therapy is a good form of expression. Excellent idea, Makini.”
Rafiki’s eyes continued to follow every painting on the wall. He could see that not every painting had been finished. They were… very different from a Mjuzi’s paintings, to say the least. Not only from the shapes made from non-opposable, blunt paws, but the paintings were dark in palette and in subject matter.
Murky, grayish browns and deep reds were the main colors used in these nebulous shapes scattered on the wall. Circling everything was what seemed to be black birds swarming every picture. Attempts to draw her own kind were made with as precise shapes as one could make with their paws.
The lions caught Rafiki's eye. Some resembled Zira what with the recognizable stripe on her head, but others seemed familiar as well considering the motifs that surrounded them.
"Makini, take your staff and touch the paintings."
"Oh, o-okay."
With a tap to the wall, the finished paintings glowed a hellish red. The cub Vitani cowered below Zira, and Zira cowered below a similar-looking lion with a scar. The birds circled around them all in a terrifying storm. Rafiki's jaw dropped.
"R-Rafiki?" Makini stammered, a bit horrified at what she saw, "What is it?"
He slowly put his hand down from the wall, and finally spoke.
"That lion... I have seen him before..."
Makini dropped her staff, "Really?"
"Yes. When I made a recent journey to the Outlands to find paintings I had never seen." he said, "How did Vitani see these lions?"
"Vitani had trouble remembering her dream while painting, so I had just the thing — I gave her the Zamani powder I found in my staff! Pretty smart, right?"
"Makini!" the elder mandrill snapped, "You have to be careful with these powders. You cannot just use it all up on something like dreams. This powder is very difficult to find, and can have side effects if used too much!"
"Really?!" Makini gasped, "Ohh, I didn't think of that! I'll put it away, Rafiki! I'll put it way away!"
"Good. Now, come! I must show you something!"
"Rafiki, wait!" Makini cried, still putting the powders in a safe spot — a nook behind some vines.
However, in an attempt to grab her staff while she hurried after him, she didn't see that she'd knocked a gourd from the hiding spot. A mess of orange powder lay scattered about the ground...
____
((Author's Notes: Yeah remember when I said this would be out July 12th on that one schedule post I made? The one where I basically irreversibly printed those dates that I had to abide by? Well, I was once again a couple of days late because a bunch of ideas and revisions came up. This has to be, like, the most despised production of a chapter/episode so far because this is a very transitional (and kinda filler) installment right after getting to such a high point with the last one. I kept switching a bunch of concepts and dialogue exchange scenes around to make sense of the chronology and why and when such things would happen. I've been so concerned lately with how much everything makes sense rather than just having something jotted down like how uploading this story used to be.
On a positive note, however, Makini was super fun and therapeutic to write. It was so fun to channel informalities like run-on sentences and rambling through her because she's so ADHD-coded lol.
Artist Note: This entire episode is highkey a meta commentary on my struggles to come up with things to draw, even down to overworking an image in my head so much that I actually lose the image altogether, making me give up before the stylus touches the tablet. The struggles with composition and making sense of this story were what played into such a debilitating 9-month hiatus. That, finishing community college, and taking forever to rid myself of a perfectionist art student mindset while making art over the summer is what finally got my head out of my ass, realizing that this story doesn't need to be so overly professional. I get that I wanted to emulate a nonexistent, hypothetical PG-13 show to succeed The Lion Guard, but I'm not a studio, I'm one person jotting down ideas and putting them in a screenshot art style. That's how Vitani's Guard even started, and it's okay if it goes up and down in how refined it is.
Also, I'm thinking of adding that little border with watermarks of the VG logo and episode/chapter number on VG art so we can keep track of when in the story an illustration takes place. What's confusing is that I refer to things as "Seasons" too, like this is "Season 3", for example.
Fun Facts:
The Zamani and Baadaye powder are based on the unnamed orange powder Rafiki used on Scar during the future hallucination sequence in the Disney Villains: Scar comic. DV:S is… not my favorite TLK installment because of how disconnected it feels, kinda feels like someone didn't watch TLK for years and only wrote something based on what they can remember of it. But! There were some aspects I liked, such as the aforementioned eye powder trip scene, these selfish and greedy vultures whose motives are actually established rather than just "hunched bald bird evil haha" that Disney always does. Also, just the general idea of Rafiki and Scar having a dialogue exchange. You never see that anywhere in any other TLK works, I don't think. I love how Rafiki sees something in Scar that no one else can yet, and how much Scar is like the Anakin to Rafiki's Obi-Wan/Yoda. The concept does get ruined by Rafiki seemingly knowing way too much about Scar's intentions, though, it kinda just makes Rafiki look like he just let Scar's tyranny happen :p. Think I'll write a full review on DV:S sometime.
Vitani and Makini's dynamic are an analogy of me taking the word of much younger, passionate artists who simply love what they make and have fun.
"Broken Bird", according to TV Tropes, is a term used to describe once idealistic individuals who had their dreams crushed through tragedy or abuse. The individual's demeanor and personality permanently change and they find it hard to love or get attached in any way again. Vitani and Zira's ideologies and emotional maturity were commonly deeply affected by the actions of their predecessors. Also it just so happened to go with the crow theme.))
Nuka trying to restore his fire by blowing it is based on the visual gag of Lumiere doing the same thing to his candlesticks.
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shamelesslyaddict · 2 years ago
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Ugh I guess since I can't draw, I'm just gonna write myself a ficlet featuring interactions I would 100% draw if I didn't draw like a 5 year old
It's funny, he thinks; all he ever wanted was someone to grow old with, someone to spend time with, someone who would love him unconditionally. He wanted a mate; he wanted to have cubs one day, he wanted to have a wedding and invite the whole pack. He thought of that frequently as he was growing up. And sure, he had dated people, hoped that each one would be the person for him. But they weren't.
He soon gave up his dream of finding a partner, instead devoting his life and himself to his pack. Secretly, he watched his uncle Nik and his aunt Grace with some sort of jealousy. He saw the way Alek and Minjo looked at each other, spoke to each other, and he wanted that type of connection. But he accepted he wasn't meant for that, wasn't good enough for that. He stopped looking.
So, yeah, he thinks it's funny that his mate came in the form of a feisty young stray who talks too much and always gives attitude. He always imagined himself with someone his own age, someone who would get old and creaky when he got old and creaky. Instead, here he stands, with his silver streaked hair and his crows-feet, looking into the shimmering blue eyes of the woman before him. Her hair, long and dark blonde -almost brown, really- catches the light above them and shines around the crown of her head. It looks almost angelic, that halo of light. He loves her hair, loves the way its curly, but not deliberately or neatly curly; it's messy in that natural curl sort of way. Her skin is pale, the only color being a light pink in her cheeks. He wonders how she hasn't gotten a sunburn yet since he's met her. Maybe it's her genetics.
The shape of her face is even more beautiful than her eyes, or her hair. She has high, round cheekbones, a strong jaw, and an ever so slightly cleft chin. He loves her cheekbones, the way they pop out even further when she smiles, the way they almost hide her eyes when she is laughing with glee. When he mentioned it, his love of her cheekbones, she giggled. Her mother was Native American, she had said, and Native Americans have exquisite facial structure. Her father, as white as white can be, is where she claims to have gotten that cleft chin, her skintone, her eye color. He laughs, he normally wouldn't care about any of these details, but when it's about her, when she's telling him these things about herself, well, he can't help but to remember every single detail.
When she first kissed him, he was shocked to his core. He had known for a long time that he loved her. He never once thought that she would feel that way about him, not when he was so much older, so much more gruff, scarred and battered. He thought she was making a mistake, but he couldn't resist kissing her back, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer to himself. He thought himself selfish, and when he realized he had overindulged in her naivety, he pushed her away. And he ran. Maybe he didn't actually sprint away, but he bolted, went inside. Tried to get away from her. She was always stubborn, feisty, unrelenting, and naturally, she followed right after him. He played dumb, didn't want to acknowledge what he had done. And she accepted that. Or so he thought.
He felt guilty after that. He felt he had ruined her, taken advantage of her. He felt she was too young to really understand what she was getting into. And part of him believed that, in some way, she was making fun of him. She had heard him confide to Nikolas that all he had ever wanted was a mate. He was scared, so fucking scared, that she was pitying him. Pitying the lonely old man.
When she approached him after the memorial, he felt compelled to apologize. He didn't want her to think he was a pervert, a dirty old man who takes advantage of young and inexperienced girls. Boy, he realizes now, if he had put those thoughts into words, well. She would have smacked him upside the head. He knows now, that even if there is some age gap there, Jazmine is not an idiot. And she knows what she wants. Even if what she wants is a grumpy old man.
It took a long time for him to trust that she just loved him. That she wanted him, wanted to be with his crippled, brain damaged ass. That she was ready to take on the world with him by her side. He had been waiting for her to realize how ruined he was, how useless he was. He has no arm and no eye for fucks sake. But she doesn't care. He believes her now, trusts in her love. Night after night she spent holding him close, his weight crushing her, while he battled the thoughts in his head. She would howl, softly, for only him to hear.
PeacePeacePeacePeace
LoveLoveLoveLoveLoveLove
Those howls got him through the worst of it, feeling that pure and honest love wash over him calmed his fears and his anxieties. He would lay with his head on her chest, right over the scar left behind by the silver infused wound she sustained the night he lost his arm. He still presses kisses to that scar, every time he can, he nuzzles his face against it too, hoping to feel and hear her heartbeat.
She wants cubs, she told him. She wants to have cubs with him. His heart had leapt into his throat, excitement pooling in his gut. He couldn't help but worry, though, that he was too old for that. He wouldn't be able to chase cubs around the same way a young man could. He told her that.
"Are you saying you don't want to have cubs with me?" she asked, serious.
"That's not what I'm saying, Jaz. I'm asking if you're one hundred percent aware that I am old as fuck, and that you could have cubs with someone younger, someone more energetic."
She had scoffed, rolled her eyes. Her arms crossed over her chest. A normal person would think she was defensive, ready to fight. Sergi knew that this was her insecure stance, her second guessing herself stance.
"I want to have cubs. With you. Maybe not this year, or next. But I want that. If you don't, just say no. Be a man, and tell me that you don't. But don't blame your age or my naivety for you backing out." Her voice was strong. She was strong. He scrubbed his hand down his face and grumbled.
"Jaz. Having cubs with you would be incredible. That's what I want. I just like to be sure that you're sure, you know that."
She softened. She does know that. Her arms had uncrossed and fallen to her sides.
"It's just..." he starts again. She hardened a bit, ready to bite back at whatever contradictory thing he was about to say. "I- I want to marry you first." He had finished, softly, his gaze now on the floor. He had wanted a more romantic approach to this, but neither of them were very good at romance.
And that is how they ended up where they are now, standing in front of one another, gazing lovingly into one another's eyes. The light keeps catching her hair, the shimmer further enhancing her beauty. Jazmine is a little bit taller than Sergi, not because she's a particularly tall woman, but because Sergi is on the shorter side. He has to look upwards a little, but he doesn't care because when someone this enchanting is marrying you in front of your entire pack- your family-, nothing like that will ever matter. Her gown is white, long, and it brushes the floor. The neckline plunges a little, meaning that Sergi can see that scar. The scar that, in its own way, matches his own. He's never worn a suit before, but when Jazmine asked him to please take this some sort of seriously, of course he was going to comply. It's blue, and it fits him just a little bit too tightly, which he knows Jaz will love. Ed, of all people, got ordained for this occasion. He was probably the best choice, seeing as he is the most human of them all anyway. Sergi has Marco on his side of the altar, and Jazmine has that new stray, Carrie. Everyone is dressed to their best, Izzie had thrown flower petals everywhere excitedly, and baby Nik and baby Alek had toddled down the aisle each carrying a small pillow with a ring on it. The only thing that could make this better, Sergi thinks, as he takes in the well-decorated warehouse and the people surrounding them, is if Uncle Nik and Alpha Alek were here to see. His heart clenches a little bit at the thought, but even that couldn't lighten the smile on his face.
"You may now kiss your bride."
Ed isn't even through the sentence when Sergi throws his arm around his bride, pulls her close, and presses their lips together. He feels Jazmine's arms wrapping around him, holding him tighter as she kisses him back. He's gotten what he's always wanted.
A mate.
(Note: I know canonically the MC has the same skin tone as their mother, but I wanted to change that up a little bit for Jazmine. I hope you enjoy this short piece regardless!)
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eveenstar · 2 years ago
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Toby falling in love with his doctor's daughter | Headcanons (part 1?)
This was revealed to me in a dream ✋🏻 yes this is inspired by David Near's The Morgue Files but since I wasn't sure if we could do fanfic about it, I created my own character inspired by it! I'll call this an experiment, so depending on how well it is received by you all I might do a part 2 :)
Doctor Frederick Faulkner, commonly known as Freddie or Fred by his co-workers, was Tobias' doctor. A man of prestige, but underlooked by his bosses. The fact he chose to treat a severe mentally ill murderer made everyone believe the doctor himself was insane.
He wasn't the first one though, his fellow co-worker Doctor Crow had also taken a murderer similar to Toby under his wing. The fact that there was someone else in the building who claimed to have seen the Tall Man frightened Toby at the time, as the boy wasn't quite a proxy yet, but close to being one. Stage 2, perhaps?
Throughout the sessions they had together, Toby found out Doctor Faulkner had a daughter just around his age. A very bright one, but a bit troublesome sometimes, just like any girl in her late teenage years would be like. He didn't know how she looked like, her father was very restrictive to that extent. His friendliness towards Toby didn't change what he was, a man who murdered his parents and set fire to his childhood house with the guests still inside.
However, this changes when you appear at the door unplanned. Just as Toby is being taken to his regular Wednesday's session, he sees you standing in front of the door, hesitant to knock.
At first, he doesn't know who you are. You're not a patient, but you're also not a doctor or nurse. Maybe a former patient visiting? Hell, does anyone actually leave this Institute?
But then the guards escorting him speak up, "Miss Faulkner, what brings you here?"
Oh, well, that's unfortunate. Toby didn't want to meet you either (though the curious part of his mind did) because even if he denies the existence of the Tall Man, he knows you'd be put in danger.
Still, he thinks you're pretty. The way you turned around to greet the guards, but how your eyes landed on him and he saw the oh-so-familiar glimpse of fear behind them. You must be aware of who he is, or maybe the chains around his feet and hands scared you enough.
What Faulkner said was true, you do have the fire of youth in your eyes. The urge to fight, to talk back, to party, to....do everything Toby could not.
The door to the office opens and there stands the doctor, eyes wild open once he notices his daughter standing there. Clearly you didn't announce your visit and you should've. Frederick sighs, before urging you inside and lifting his finger up for "one second".
The last time he saw you before you disappeared off of the radar (at least he didn't see you again so maybe you wouldn't come back) was after you walked off his office saying "You'll regret this!" and leaving a clearly disappointed Fred behind.
Don't fret, nothing serious happened. Apparently Faulkner was so caught up in his work that he missed his marriages birthday and well...his wife wasn't pleased.
In the following days, Toby did some sketches of you. Doodles, even. He's not a great artist but he's had time to practice, and it's better than drawing that creature over and over again, just to repeat the cycle the next day.
He's had crushes before, sure. Hallway crushes. Market crushes. Girls he'll never see again, but for that split moment of time he thought they were pretty. Surely he's not that bad that he became infatuated with someone who didn't even talk to him?
But he wants to know more about you; what do you do, who are your friends, how your pretty little life was like...yet he can't. There is no way your father will open up about you more than he already has; he's already this close to finding out about the drawings he keeps of you.
It's been a while since he sees you again; Toby's lost track of time but he'd say maybe a month or so until you show up, this time it seems you managed to convince your dad to let you stay during a session. Of course, when asked about it Toby didn't care despite the thought of opening up with a strange person present made him uncomfortable.
Even thought you're sitting behind him, he can hear you writing down notes. The doctor assures him it's nothing about him, rather the entire appointment as a whole. You're studying psychology, maybe to follow your father's footsteps?
Only when Doctor Faulkner turns around to grab some papers is when Toby manages to also turn around to take a glance at you; not expecting you to be already staring at him, or rather, your dad, and then looking over to him.
Before, your face was calm, monotonous of any emotion, with lips set on a straight line, but then....then your eyes landed on him and a nervous smile formed on your face.
"Hello," You said.
"Toby!"
Yeah, that was enough to scold him back into track. Your father didn't want you here at all, but now? Now Toby did. In his twisted mind, a dangerous idea pushed by whispers began to form.
"My daughter, would you be so kind to get me a bottle of water from the cafeteria?" Was that his way to send you off? Sure. But you'll be back.
But things don't always work our way, at least not in Toby's life.
The alarms went off a few minutes after you left. Everything is blinking red and it's too, too loud and loud and- screams. There's people screaming.
He knows it's here. This is his work. There's a dark cloud forming in the back of his mind, the same fog from the night he killed his parents and their friends. Faulkner is far too concerned with leaving the office and go get you that he doesn't notice Toby trailing after him.
But it wasn't Toby who did the final blow, thought you might believe otherwise because of the red stains all over his white hospital outfit. He doesn't know who it was, all he knows is that you were standing behind your father as he fell to the ground with a petrified look on your face.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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