#don’t worry I’ll rewrite you to be the mean queens you deserve
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Listen, Team Green or Team Black we can all agree on one thing….
That scene in the Sept was fucking GARBAGE
#hotd#house of the dragon#anti ryan condal#what is this season 7 season 8 ass writing?#gimme my grieving mothers lashing out#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower#my girls you deserve so much better#don’t worry I’ll rewrite you to be the mean queens you deserve#Ryan Condal I am coming for you ISTG
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Title: 'Tied to one' part four
Summary: The siblings had learned that a witch had rewrote their soul strings mean while Mikael had went after Freya and Y/N as Hayley's misdeeds are undone. Would the siblings forgive her? Or lose Elijah forever?
Warnings: Angst like a lot of it, Angry Mikaelsons. Loss of a unborn child, Violence, Y/N being a badass
A/N: I noted that I kinda made this part every long too. So it makes me wonder do guys like it when I do long parts when doing series? Let me know ☺
Elijah and Klaus kept Hayley close as they walked though the Ninth ward and they couldn't help but notice it was quite. Then they heard screaming and smelled burning of wood and they went to see what was happening with the witches as they hadn't done a trial in so long.
"They are doing a witch trial." Rebekah whispered as they watched witches dragging out another witch that crying and Hayley knew who the witch as she was the one that did the spell that rewrote the soul string.
"Please, don't do this! Please, I beg of the Ancestors! I don't want to die!" The witch shouted as they tied the sobbing witch to a stake. And Elijah held Hayley back from rushing forward to try and save the witch.
"Hayley, we not stop this. Davina is Regent and we agreed to not enter witches affairs."
"Regent, her rights?"
"Annilse for rewriting soul strings and going against the Ancestors. Your punishment is death as you have brought danger to all Nine covens. Your last words?" Davina asked holding up a torch of fire as the witch swallowed her sobs and decided if she was going down she was taking Hayley with her.
"Yes, my Regent. Hayley Marshall, Queen and Alpha of Crescent wolf pack had me do the spell for her own personal gain! The Original soulmate is a witch!" The witch cried out shocking the witches and they whispered among themselves as Elijah let Hayley go. A heartbreak settled over the siblings as Hayley looked at them teary eyed the sound of a burning witch echoed out and the thought of this witch dying because of Hayley hit the siblings with guilt at slowly crawled up their backs.
"She is lying."
"Hayley, we have lived long enough to know that one on their death bed has no reason to lie. Once we find our mother you will explain yourself." Elijah said rather coldly walking pass the female hybrid as the others glared at her following Elijah.
At the Abattoir Freya was helping Y/N with spell to find out what was wrong with her soul strings as both were getting along. Freya found the young witch adorable believe she was a good fit for Finn as they bonded over her possible niece or nephew that Y/N carried.
"It seems my soul string to Finn is pure but it is also saying the other four."
"Impossible, Hayley is their soulmate." Freya said frowning looking over Y/N's shoulder looking at the paper seeing the names of her siblings written our elegantly.
"I knew something was wrong but this magic is to much for me to reverse." Y/N said as Freya smiled taking her hand.
"Don't worry I'll fix it for you, dear Y/N."
"NIKLAUS! Come out a face, you mistake of a man!" Y/N and Freya heard Mikael yell as the witches looked at one another before headed out to the catwalk seeing the vampire standing there. Mikael looked up seeing the witches smirking at them which made Y/N shiver at his dark look.
"Ah my traitorous daughter and the tainted soulmate. Niklaus left you both unprotected."
"I am not a traitor for protecting my siblings from you father. I don't need Nik to protect us." Freya said glaring at her father as Y/N swallowed watching Freya use her magic against Mikael. It was a bloody fight with Freya drawing the most blood from Mikael as Y/N watched Freya fall feeling drained.
"Y/N run!" Freya shouted as the witch didn't need to be told twice and took off running with Mikael close behind. Y/N yelped feeling Mikael grab her by the neck and the witch stabbed his side fighting back as much as she could.
"So the abomination is having another child? How much would it kill him to lose you both?" Mikael said having pinned Y/N to the floor as her heart raced unable to speak as the vampire had his hand around her thoat. Panic and fear filled Y/N feeling Mikael's hand on her abdomen making her struggle to get free when pain shot though her as she let out a pain fill scream and Freya trying to make her way to them both.
"Shame to lose something so lovely."
"Shame....you'll....be enslaved.....monster." Y/N coughed up blood and before Mikael could kill her. The witch smashed a small bottle against the vampire's head and said a quick spell under her breath as Mikael fell over unconscious then rolled over whimpering curling into herself trying to stop the bleeding.
"I can't believe you!" Rebekah growled angrily as they entered the Abattoir unable to find Esther and Hayley was about to apologize again but Elijah stopped her seeing Freya up on the catwalk hurt. The scent of blood hit their noses as Elijah bit into his wrist to heal Freya.
"Y/N......father.....witch room." Freya rasped out before letting Elijah heal her while both Finn and Klaus rushed to the room seeing the two. Mikael was still unconscious as Y/N was curled in a ball crying and Finn went went to his soulmate while Klaus went to Mikael.
"Darling, shhhhh I'm here here now."
"I'm sorry.....I tried." Y/N whimpered burying her face in Finn's neck as both him and Klaus couldn't hear the second heartbeat and realized what she meant.
"Get her clean up brother. I'll take care of this."
A moments later with everyone cleaned up and Freya explained what happened and what she heard. Y/N had her abdomen wrapped with bandage and dressed in one of Finn's shirts as she walked into the den and the rest of Mikaelson was taken back seeing her with a fire in her gorgeous eyes when she walked in.
Mikael stood growling angry at the witch that got of him and surprised to see his second oldest following behind her then moved to attacked the witch to try to use her to get out before anyone could stop him.
"Kneel!" Y/N commanded glaring at the vampire as right away Mikael fell onto one knee shocking the others. Y/N stood in front of Mikael with fiery eyes as to the siblings it was the look of a Queen and to Klaus this was the woman he could see hisself waging a war for.....his true Queen.
"What have you done, witch?"
"My grandmother's old command spell. It only works on vampires and as long as I have this mark," Y/N raised her hand showing what looked like a tattoo of a chain attached to a moon as the same mark was on Mikael's hand, "you cannot hurt me and follow every order I give."
"My my spoken like a true Queen there, love." Klaus says smirking walking behind her placing his hands on her shoulders leaning close to her ear looking at Mikael with a glint in his blue eyes. Klaus was enjoying this a little too much as the others stood by watching.
"Now what does the Queen wish to do?"
"Tell him the truth about the baby." Y/N's words made Klaus smirk darkly looking at Mikael before letting Finn help her sit down and now Mikael was confused as Finn fuzzed over the small witch.
"Well dear father, the baby belonged to Finn here. As it appears that real soulmates are able to have children with vampires." Klaus said still smirking as Mikael look at an angry Finn with a apologetic look on his face as Elijah stepped behind their father snapping his neck letting the body fall.
"He'll come in handy to find mother. Now Hayley what poor dear Annilse said before her death." Klaus said looking at the female hybrid as Freya and Y/N looked confused.
"What is going on?"
"Hayley here had a witch rewrite our soul strings because she wanted Elijah." Kol said as the witches looked at Hayley who looked away ashamed and Y/N stood up teary eyed.
"You took everything from me just so you could have something that wasn't yours?"
"I loved Elijah away before you did! I deserved him no......" Hayley was cut off by Y/N slapping her shocking everyone. Hot tears fell freely down Y/N's face as she glared at Hayley who was holding her cheek. The soul strings that connected the witch to the siblings sparked with color was stronger this time but died out.
"I lost my baby! Finn lost a chance to be a father all because of you! You took everything away from them all because you weren't happy! And I hope you fucking burn." Y/N said leaving the den with Finn following after to comfort her.
"You got an innocent witch killed and my brother lost his child because you loved Elijah? How dare you, Hayley." Freya said walking out to check on Y/N leaving the female hybrid with the other four Mikaelsons. Elijah couldn't look at Hayley as his heart ached and blamed hisself for it all even though it really wasn't his fault and Rebekah covered her mouth as her own tears wetting her cheeks as Kol sat next to her comforting her.
"I'm sorry, if I know this would hap...."
"You wouldn't have done it? If you truly loved Elijah, you would have let him happy like he had done when you married Jackson." Klaus said watching Elijah leave then followed after because he knew guilt was eating away at his brother. Both Rebekah and Kol left also leaving Hayley alone as Mikael wike having heard everything.
"I may be a monster but I wouldn't have never hurt any of my children the way you have hurt Elijah."
Elijah stood in the doorway seeing Y/N laying in bed and swallowing his fear the Original walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed his back to her. Elijah was unable to look at her as his guilt ate away at him. The vampire jumped feeling the witch grab his hand and looked seeing that she laced their fingers together.
"Please don't blame yourself."
"I'm sorry.... I can't help it. I keep wondering if I had just kept my distance from her....to wait for you. Maybe you wouldn't be hurting." Elijah said voice cracking from unshed tears as Y/N rolled onto her back shifting to hold Elijah feeling tears hit her shoulder making her heart break hearing Elijah cry silently into her neck.
"Shhh Eli, I don't blame you." Y/N whispered rubbing his back seeing Finn standing in the doorway and watched him walk in. Finn placed a hand on his brother's back as he sat on the bed while Finn was taken back to when they were children how Elijah looked up to his big brother being comforted by the older Mikaelson when Mikael got to rough with the boy. Both Y/N and Finn calmed Elijah easing his blame away while Freya sat with Davina to undo the spell Hayley had done.
"I can't believe Hayley would do such a thing." Rebekah said huddled in Kol's arms as he was comforting his baby sister still angry that Hayley would do such a thing more so the price of the spell cost an innocent witch's life and Finn's unborn child all because the woman loved Elijah.
"The guilt Elijah will be carrying will crush him." Kol said softly feeling the bed dip with Klaus's weight as their older brother lay a comforting arm over the both.
"Both Finn and Y/N are easing his guilt away."
Morning sunlight shined into the bedroom waking Elijah feeling a body on him making him freeze then relaxed catching Y/N's scent as realized that Hayley wasn't in the bed. Y/N woke yawned and Finn woke also leaning over kissing the witch's head then ruffled Elijah's hair making the noble vampire smile at the familiarly.
"Morning boys." Y/N muttered sitting up with Elijah's help and she frowned feeling the knots in her hair realizing she hadn't wrapped her hair.
"Shower darling, Elijah will help you with your hair." Finn says helping her out of help bed as the sound of everyone moving around reached them. Elijah felt a twinge of familiarly as he did Y/N's hiar helping her put it up into two buns then Elijah helped her get dressed seeing her flinching due to her wound.
"Elijah." Hayley croaked out as the vampire paused seeing the hybrid in Y/N's doorway, Hayley looked a bit like a mess her eyes red and puffy from crying. Elijah looked away from Hayley, his heart squeezing in pain but felt Y/N rub his hand with her thumb.
"I'm going to see Freya and Davina." Y/N said softly leaving the room glaring at Hayley as she passed the hybrid. Hayley moved towards Elijah only for the Original to step back from her and pain flashed in Hayley's eyes looking up at Elijah.
"Elijah....I'm sorry....I didn't....."
"You didn't think this would happen? Hayley, you know more than anyone that all magic comes with a price " Elijah tells Hayley looking at her and Hayley saw the heart break on Elijah's face.
"I....just didn't think this was the price....Elijah, I just wanted you back."
"I'm sorry Hayley....I can't." Elijah says walking pass her not even looking at the woman as fresh tears fell down her face.
"So how do we undo the spell? Also why didn't affect Finn's soul string with Y/N?" Kol asked as everyone was in the room while the three witches stood by a bowl.
"Finn was dead when you met her so the spell couldn't undo their soul string as for undoing the spell. We need your blood then Y/N here to say the spell to unwritten it." Davina explained as everyone did as told then watched the ash gray strings burst with color. The siblings looked at Y/N as everything came back to them.
Rebekah was the first to move hugging Y/N who hugged back as Kol came up behind her hugging them both. Kol buried his face in her neck taking in the witch's scent. Once everyone settled down, they focus on looking for Esther. Mikael had his arms crossed watching his children working out what to do more so how Klaus wanted to make sure that the girls wouldn't get hurt.
"Can I help?" Hayley asked getting the sibling's attention before Klaus allowed her to join as Elijah was cold to her while talking about how to stop Esther. Hayley watched from outside of the gate as the siblings made sure that Y/N and Freya was going to be safe.
"I will be with them. I'll watch over them." Mikael said as the siblings looked at him then left with Hayley. In the den Y/N was writing out a spell in her grimoire as Mikael stood by as Freya stopped watching him.
"I wanted to apologize even though there is no way to undo what I have don. But I was told by Esther that you were the bast....Niklaus's soulmate but I am slowly learning that my anger is driving my children away." Mikael tells Y/N as she looked up at the older vampire seeing he was sincere.
"Thank you, Mikael." Y/N said softly as the vampire sat next to her and Freya smiled walking in with tea and the three enjoyed the quiet. There was a crash and Y/N didn't have to use her command seal as Mikael was quick to protect the witches. It was undead hybrids that Klaus had killed back in Mystic Falls as Y/N and Freya set up spells to help Mikael. When the siblings came home to see Mikael dragging dead bodies as Y/N and Freya was burning the bodies.
"What happen?!"
"Our mother sent your dead hybrids to kill us well more like father."
"You survived Mikael." Esther said glaring at her husband as Mikael glared back as the siblings saw how their father hid Y/N behind him.
"And you almost killed my children's soulmate."
"Since when did you care for the little wench?" Esther said glaring at Y/N believing the little witch stole Finn from her. Mikael growled ready to kill the Original witch when she suddenly fell and Klaus stood smirking.
"Enough of that. Shall we get mother's coffin Elijah?"
"We shall Niklaus." Elijah said smirking seeing the dagger in Esther's back. After placing Esther in a coffin and Freya placed many spells on it so it could never open they placed the coffin behind a brick wall and sealed it up.
"Shall we have a ball? I believe we deserve to celebrate." Klaus said smirking as his siblings chuckled agreeing with him before setting in the den feeling oddly comfortable around Mikael as they planned a ball.
#L.R writes#mikaelson x reader#mikaelson family x reader#Finn mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson imagine#klaus mikaelson imagine#kol mikaelson imagine#rebekah mikaelson imagine
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Heart-Shaped Wreckage
Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei
Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage
Author: adenei
Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Prompt: Songfic
Rating: T
TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)
A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.
************
Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.
It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.
It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.
So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.
And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.
But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.
As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.
The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.
I’m not scared to tell the truth.
I went to hell and back and I went with you
Remind me what we were before,
When you said you are mine, and I am yours
Hermione,
There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other.
When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.
I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity.
I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.
I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.
I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.
Ron
Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.
After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being.
Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.
“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.
Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.
For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.
Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.
I don’t know much, but I know myself
And I don’t want to love anybody else
So let’s break the spell and lift the curse
Remember when we fell for each other head first
There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months.
What have I done?
None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do.
Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.
Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.
Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.
She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.
“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”
Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.
“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”
Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.
“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.
“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.
Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.
"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...”
Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.
“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.”
Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.
“Wh-what happened?”
The words are spoken with great effort.
“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”
Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.
“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”
Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.
“Why are you here?”
It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.
The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply.
“Ms. Granger—”
“Hermione.”
“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were.
“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”
Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.
“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.”
Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.
Look at this heart shaped wreckage
What have we done?
We’ve got scars from battles nobody won
We can start over, better
Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces
Let the broken pieces go
“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”
“Of course.”
Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.
Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.
When. It has to be when.
As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.
“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.
Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed.
Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.
After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side.
Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up���and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.
“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.
When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.
“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.
I can’t find you in the dark
Will we get back to who we are?
And I can’t fix this on my own
Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known
She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open.
“Er-my-nee.”
His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.
“You came,” he whispers.
Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.
Look at this heart shaped wreckage
What have we done?
We’ve got scars from battles nobody won
We can start over, better
Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces
Let the broken pieces go
“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.
His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”
“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”
“Only if you give me a reason not to.”
Let the broken pieces go
Just hold on to each other tonight
“I will, I promise.”
She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.
“Does that mean…?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”
“It’s about time you came to your senses.”
The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go.
Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.
#chudleycanonficfest2021#HP fest#hp canon pairings#canon fest romantic#submission#tw: implied death#tw: implied violence#romione#ron weasley x hermione granger#hermione granger x ron weasley
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I kinda wanna write a better version of tlh where Tatiana is still insane but there's no Belial bc that makes zero sense to me
In this version there would be:
Kamanna done correctly with actual genderqueer rep and not toxic relationships
Barbra and Oliver bc fight me she didn't die
Genie and Filomena bc I love them and all the lightwoods are queer
The gracelet doesn't even happen bc I refuse to write that
Grace is pretty much still the same but she breaks off their(hers and james') relationship bc she notices that he loves Cordelia
No bad James. He's not a shitty person to Alastair, and he doesn't treat Cordelia like a sex object
Anna puts a stop to Kellington and Matthew's relationship before it gets serious. She also tries to get him to stop drinking all the time
Alastair apologizes around seeing them again for the first time. The merry thieves are a little reluctant because of some of the things he did but they don't actively try to keep him away from events that they're at
Matthew notices how Alastair looks at Thomas and locks them in the sanctuary with Genie and Cordelia's help
Grace gets badly injured due to a mistake in necromancy and Christopher helps her treat it without letting people know
Lucie meets Jesse, and falls in love ofc, so in order to bring him back successfully she asks Malcolm to train her in using her magic
Matthew opens up to his mom about the incident. She doesn't blame him at all and instead apologizes for often putting her work before him
Matthew finds out about Charles and Alastair because he found Alastairxs break up letter to Charles
Matthew, the mother hen he is, decided to attempt to murder his older brother, only being stopped by James who had been there at the right time
Kamala ends things with Charles and tells Anna that she still loves them and hopes that she will give her another chance
Anna told her that they needed time to think, and that she is worried how Kamala's reputation will be affected if anyone besides their friends and Anna's family finds out
Kamala respects her decision and doesn't contact her until Anna's ready to talk about things
The merry thieves don't ignore Christopher and they actively listen and help him
The merry thieves also aren't terrible to Grace bc they realize she's been isolated alone with Tatiana and 1) she might not understand what's saying/doing is wrong or 2) that sometimes she's trying to push them away so her abilities don't accidentally make them do something
Good tid parents
James and Alastair being respectful to each other despite personal differences
Matthew, Alastair, Kamala, Christopher, and Grace being besties, or as I call them, the neglected squad
No fetishizing mlm/wlw
Domestic cuddles and taking care of the other one when they're sick
Jesse/Lucie/Matthew pairing bc I love them and I refuse to pick between lucie/matthew and lucie/jesse
Christopher teaching Grace the elements(at the time) on the periodic table
Tatiana dies at the end yay
It's very unpolished and I'm open to b hearing any feedback and/or suggestions that anyone may have
The idea came to me and I decided it would be best if I told someone before I forgot
hi, I'm sorry it took so long,but I wanted to properly answer this and I keep having either internet connection issues or little time
DON'T BE SHY, WRITE THIS 👀
In all seriousness tho... THIS IS ABSOLUTE PERFECTION?!? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START I AM UTTERLY IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA, I NEED IT
Look, I've been on the verge of rewriting ChoI, and I keep saying I want someone to write a TLH that will live up to its potential, but I've never actually came up with a proper idea for it, and you?!! YOUR BRAIN DARLING THIS IS GENIUS
ok hold up I'll just react to each and every single one so
yes please?!? I mean it started off so sweet in EEV?! Also actually genderqueer Anna and not dancing around the subject like CC is doing now?! That's what they deserve, and that's what we all deserve too
yesss please. also just,,,, Barbara, the feminine, not-wanting-to-fight-which-doesnt-make-her-less-badass queen that she is, getting the page space and appreciation she deserves
that's actually brilliant?!? it would be so great, just imagine the new girl arrives for her travel year and Genie is completely awestruck. I'm so invested in Joshwood it's difficult to imagine not having them, but this is actually the only valid alternative?!
ok that's fine. I think it could still happen and be done well, but tbh for now... the gracelet doesn't seem to have done anything relevant to the plot itself? I mean yeah it messed up James's life and Jordelia, but what did it give Belial? Tatiana? nothing. It makes no sense atm.
could be! maybe she's still encouraged by Tatiana to befriend/seduce him, but without the gracelet it doesn't work out? or maybe James somehow manages to realize that she's in danger and he actually like,,,, kidnaps her? idk idk
yes. YES. just,,,,z James is a sweet compassionate literature nerd who accidentally makes a good leader and he actually cares about people, and not just judges them from his high horse; he does still have hero syndrome, but he's kind and respectful and overall a good character
ANNA INTERVENES ABOUT KELLINGTON PLZ. PEOPLE ACTUALLY NOTICE MATTHEW'S STRUGGLES. JAMES DOES, TOO, BECAUSE THERE'S NO GRACELET.
ok yes, so what about: basically TMT don't harass Alastair and accept his apology, and realize they were also being stupid and mean at times at the Academy (especially Math). Matthew doesn't want to accept Alastair's apology, because of The Sin, but his behaviour alerts the rest of TMT and they inquire what's wrong and he tells them about the sin and that's how he later tells his parents (because his friends encourage him) and as you say, she just hugs him and reassures him it's not his fault; so after that Matthew slowly begins to heal and accepts it wasn't Alastair's fault, and also since they've kind of adopted/started including Alastair in things, he can't help but notice he's actually changed and he even starts to grow fond of him
then like you said, Matthew notices Thomas likes Alastair PLEASE HE SO WOULD. I'm not sure about the Sanctuary, if it actually happens (I'll get to why later on), but him and Lucie get really invested in the matchmaking schemes, they include Genie/Kamala because these two are friends with Alastair (both? Or at this point only Kamala?) but they also share some Moments during their scheming/talking about love 👀 (yes I'm a Fairdale shipper, I think it's time to expose myself lol)
Which leads me to (sorry I'm going off order rn) YES YES YES LUCIE AND MATH PLEASE. A FELLOW SHIPPER, HELLO, NICE TO MEET YOU. But since we're actually fixing him then we can give Jesse a personality and I'm totally down for poly Math/Lucie/Jesse
Lucie seeking Malcolm's help in secret, morally gray heroine style?!? no, it's probably not legal. but also has there ever been a Shadowhunter like her? If the Law doesn't expect such situations, it can't really forbid them...
Plz Matthew ready to strangle the carrot when he learns about their relationship, YES. sure, maybe he's still not the biggest fan of Alastair, but he's seen how much the boy's been through and starts to develop an attachment to him, and besides, NO ONE DESERVES TO BE GROOMED AND TREATED LIKE THAT. He's SO MAD at Charles, and he confronts him about it - remembering Kellington as he does, and it makes him sick to think his brother would do the same thing to someone. Maybe he gets very emotional over this and later finally tells his friends about Kellington? Maybe they didn't know before, only Anna did? So when they all realize what was happening then they comfort him etc? Or maybe it's just Alastair that learns now, and the others knew before, and they share a bonding moment over that?
Injured Grace seeking Kit's help is a genius idea I didn't know I needed
Kamanna giving each other time and space and deciding they need to question their relationship and figure out if it actually makes sense would be great. Anna realising she's very privileged and Kamala doesn't have those same opportunities, and also in general realising coming out should never be pressured or forced. Just,,,, Anna being self-aware and respectful towards Kamala. Well-written Anna. Plz. Also Kamanna is actually developed and not just "in love" because,,,,, they're attracted to each other? Maybe even remaining friends while Anna makes up their mind?
yeah just TMT being more compassionate and less judgy because they're not written by Judith so her bias isn't projected onto them
It's not a want, it's a need. They adopt Alastair and Grace eventually. Like, maybe not literally - although, Grace? - but you know what I mean.
I think they all should just have various friendship dynamics and switch between them, because people need more than one friend group
no fetishizing, no watching your brother make out with his lover, yessss
yes domestic cuddles, affection, taking care of wounds, all those things. plz.
Gracetopher bonding over science yes
obviously. or maybe she's imprisoned?!
ok, now for some more notes/my ideas etc., if you don't mind:
I actually think Belial could still be featured? After all, I don't think Tatiana could do much on her own, and since she seeks help from demons, it makes sense to include a Greater Demon as well. But Belial would have to be a stronger villain, written better; I'll think more about this
if that was the case, the serial killer plot could still happen, but be done better. and it would allow for a scenario I talked about with @littlx-songbxrd to happen, where it's Alastair who's falsely accused of murder. It creates a great opportunity to explore some things, because we know Alastair is much more likely to be seriously suspected, considering all the prejudices and bad rep his family has and all that
...what do you say to well-written Jordelia? 👀 Cordelia hasn't been obsessively in love with James since childhood, she only had a crush then. And now that they meet again, she's fond of him but not in love, not straight away. They're both grown up, and different people, but as they spend more and more time together, they fall in love. What if Cordelia gets to flirt with some other boys first? What then. What if she ends up choosing James, instead of going for the only boy she's ever had feelings for and idealized since childhood. What if we even make it friends-to-lovers and have James be a little jealous at some point?! but not in a possessive awful way, just "oh damn oh no"
Now I won't know peace until this exists BUT THANK YOU
#ask answered#thank you this is brilliant#alt tlh#save for later#the last hours#tlh#anti cc#yes I'll be adding/thinking more about this I AM OBSESSED
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We’re here. You’re safe.
Anonymous said: Here’s another Castlevania Trio x Werewolf!Reader for you!
“It’s all over. I’ve got you, [Name], I’ve got you.”
Scene: Reader is captured by the Council of Sisters and forced to fight in the ring for their own amusement (basically Werewolf Fights like in Being Human) for some time before being rescued by the trio.
//I hope I can do this justice, Anon. I haven’t gotten around to watching season 3 yet, but I’ve seen sipits of it(I really don’t care about spoilers. Lol. I’d rather know what happens than not know what happens). I really hope you like this. I might add a little bit of Hector x Reader platonic. Hector is such a sweetheart. He deserves better.//
Castlevania Trio x Werewolf! Reader
~~~~~~~~~~
How did this happen?
“I terrify them, Sypha disorients them, Alucard goes over the top and we support him.” He said. You glanced at him.
“Trevor, what do you want me to do? You know I’m not going to let you three have all the fun.” You said. Trevor smirked.
“[Name], you do what you do best. Rip them to shreds.” He said. You smirked. Your eyes glowed yellow.
“I couldn’t have said any better myself.”
That was the plan. It worked. Alucard managed to kill Dracula, ending the war. However...
“You’re coming with me!” You looked behind you. Carmilla jumped down and gripped you by the back of your fur. Shifting back, you held out your hand.
“Sypha! Trevor! Alucard!” You shouted.
“[Name]!” Before any of them could help, Carmilla whisked you away.
Now here you were, laying on the ground. Starved. Exhausted. New and old scars covered your body. You didn’t want to do it, but they made you. The Council of Sisters made you fight in the ring for their own amusement.
You tried to stay in your werewolf form as long as you could. In that form, you felt more confident and you healed much faster. However, if you remained in the Werewolf form for too long, then the beast side would take over and your human soul would cease to exist.
You were currently in your human form. Footsteps caught your attention. You curled into yourself more.
“Dog? Are you in here?” The familiar voice called. You growled to yourself. It was Lenore, one of the Queens of Styria. Lenore walked in, the human, Hector following after. You growled at her.
“What do you want, brat?” You asked. Lenore gasped. She opened the cell gate. She stomped over and gripped you by the hair, yanking you up. You groaned in slight pain.
“How dare you address me like that! I am far more superior to you!” She shouted. You scoffed.
“In what? Childish behavior? No, actually Trevor and Alucard hold the titles of being hella childish. You’re just pretending.” You said, chuckling. Sarcasm was your way of dealing with difficult situations. You grunted as Lenore slapped you across the face, dropping you to the ground. She then chuckled.
“You really think that your friends are coming to save you? They don’t care about you. They have already given up on you.” She said. You glared at her.
“You’re wrong! They wouldn’t give up on me! They will come for me. And when they do, they will tear you and your so called “Sisters” apart. Piece by pathetic piece.” You said. Lenore scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Whatever. Hector,” Hector looked at the Vampire with slight fear. “Bring the dog up to the ring. My Sisters and I are in need of a little entertainment.” She said. Hector nodded, looking down. As she walked out, she brushed her hand against Hector’s arm. Hector flinched. Lenore chuckled as she walked away. Hector sighed and walked over. You scooted closer into the corner. Hector frowned at you sadly. He knelt before you.
“I am sorry for the way they treat you.” He said. You narrowed your eyes.
“Why would you be sorry? You worked for Dracula. You wanted to destroy humanity.” You accused. Hector sighed.
“Dracula told me that only half of humanity would be killed. I did not notice I was being lied to.” He said. “Come. Let’s get you to the ring.” He said. You sighed and stood up.
“You’re a forgemaster, right? Why don’t you fight back and leave?” You asked. Hector sighed sadly. He held up his hand. On his ring finger was a ring. Your eyes widened. “A slave ring.” You whispered out. Hector nodded.
“This is the reason I can not leave. Nor can I betray them.” He said. You frowned.
“Look, I may not like you because you worked with Dracula, but I’ll find a way to get you out of here. My friends are coming, despite what that brat says. I’ll convince them to let you come with.” You said. Hector smiled at you.
“You’re kind. But that is not possible. I doubt they would allow me to come with.” He said. “Let’s go. Before Carmilla gets impatient.” He said. You sighed and followed. You hoped Trevor, Alucard and Sypha got here quickly. You didn’t know how much longer you could take this.
~~~~~~~~
Sypha sighed. Alucard looked at her.
“Sypha, are you alright?” He asked. Sypha looked at him. Trevor looked at her.
“I’m worried about [Name]. I can’t imagine what they’re going through right now.” Trevor placed his hand on hers.
“We’ll find them. I promise.” He said. Sypha smiled sadly at him. She hoped they found you quickly before anything bad happened.
~~~~~~~~
You resisted the urge to whimper in pain as another werewolf’s claws sunk into your shoulder. You growled and chomped down on their leg. For the longest time, you believed that you were the only Werewolf left in Wallachia. But that was not true. They had werewolves in Carmilla’s castle, saved for this specific moment. You felt your strength slipping. You were sure this would be it. An explosion shook the castle. The Sisters looked at each other in shock. Carmilla looked at the two others.
“Morgana, Striga, do see what that was.” She ordered.
“Oh there’s no need for that, Vampire.” Familiar voice said. You looked up and almost cried out in relief. There stood your three friends. You smirked as you saw Lenore’s shocked face. You shifted into your human form. You chuckled.
“I-I told you. Brat.” You said before you passed out.
“Release our friend. Or we will be forced to kill you.” Alucard said. Carmilla stood.
“Lenore, go after the Werewolf. They are special. We need them! Morgana, Striga engage those people!” She ordered. The Vampires did as they were told. Before Lenora could grab you, Hector intercepted her.
“Hector?!” Lenore shouted in disbelief. Hector frowned at her.
“I refuse to be your slave anymore!” He shouted. Lenore scoffed.
“You cannot defy me! You still have the slave ring on!” She shouted. Hector smiled sadly.
“[Name] gave me a chance of freedom. I was going to take it, but now, I am going to give them a chance of freedom. Even if it means my death.” He said.
You felt arms wrap around you. You barley opened your eyes.
“S-Sypha?” You asked. Sypha smiled, tears building in her eyes.
“It’s all over. I’ve got you, [Name], I’ve got you.” She said. You smiled.
“B-but what about Hector? We have to get him as well!” You said. Alucard walked up, kneeling before you. Most of the Sisters had been killed, save for Striga and Lenore.
“We will, [Name]. I promise you, we will. For now, rest. We’ll get you somewhere safe.” He said. Trevor smiled at you.
“We’re here. You’re safe now.”
~~~~~~~~
//I hope you liked this, Anon. If you didn’t, I’m more than happy to rewrite it. If you would like a part 2 where the Castlevania Trio and Reader save Hector, let me know.//
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Reckless
Warning: pregnancy scare (but not what you think).
A/N: I had this in my docs for so long, but I always felt like I didn’t do enough for him. I will probably rewrite this for myself, but I’m happy I get to share this at all. Yes, the girl is named after me, sorry?
2.7k. First person (sorry not sorry)
How could I be so reckless? I always come prepared. How did I let this slide? The thrill of being irresponsible for once maybe? Having unprotected sex is not unheard of, but I should’ve known better than doing that for a one night stand. Couldn’t rest easy with the thought of really fucking up. I need to get supplies. The morning after pill will do the trick. Fuck, but I’m in Korea, for a small vacation, and I don’t know the language well enough to go to the pharmacy.
I get a buzz on my phone.
Wonnie: There’s a new movie on Netflix that I think we should watch, come over tonight!
A sigh of relief escapes my throat. Hyungwon, my sweetheart friend I made a year ago from a previous trip. We’re close, completely platonic, and would trust each other with anything. He’s asked me about girls before and I’ve asked him about boys. This is different. I would be asking him to help translate at the pharmacy so I could get the morning after pill. Actually, this shouldn’t be a big deal, I’m making this far more dramatic than it should be. Breath.
Me: I’m coming over, but I need a favor before we watch the movie.
Wonnie: What’s the favor?
Me: Wait till I get there, I don’t want to explain over the phone.
Wonnie: Oh?
My heart is skipping beats reading these texts. Thankfully my hotel isn’t far from his dorm. I walk to his dorm, overthinking this situation. Damn, what if it’s too late? Don’t be a dumb bitch, that’s not how pregnancy works. The morning after pill is good for within seventy-two hours of unprotected sex, plus, I’m on birth control, but you never know, nothing is guaranteed. I can’t have a baby right now, I want a house first, I want to progress in my career! Never noticed how fast I was walking till I came across the dorms in record time. Must be on edge. It’s just a favor of translation, that’s all. It’s going to be ok. He loves me, platonically, and won’t judge me.
I politely knock on the door, for once, unlike my usual unannounced entry. My nails dig through the skin of my palm, leaving crescent marks, damn near bleeding. Hyungwon answers the door, expressing eagerness to see me again, even though he saw me just yesterday. He gives me a hug and I never wanted a hug more. My vision goes blurry. No, don’t cry, not in front of him. I avoid eye contact with him when he lets me go. He’s so tall, it’s not that hard to hide my face.
“Sarah?”, Hyungwon tilts his head to look for my eyes. I damp my eyes with my knuckles, alarming him. He steps out of the dorm entrance and takes me further into the hallway.
“What’s wrong?”, whispering, changing his tune to something I’m not familiar with. My throat feels like it’s engulfed with cement. Both of his hands cup my cheeks and lift my face to meet his eyes.
“Talk to me”, he stoically demands.
“Hyungwon, I fucked up”, I mumble. His alertness turned to worry.
“Did someone hurt you?”, he sharply inhales.
“No, no. I just need your help at a pharmacy”, I whimper, defending the stranger I slept with. He didn’t hurt me or anything, we were just irresponsible.
“A pharmacy?”, he blurts out, spooking me.
“I just need something over the counter and I need your help translating”, I beat around the bush.
“What do you need?”, Hyungwon confidently exclaims.
“The morning after pill”, I shrug. I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. It happens.
“Let me get my shoes”, he nods. He opens the door, grabs his shoes and wallet and steps back out.
“Thank you”, I timidly thank him.
“You don’t have to thank me, Sarah, I’m happy you trust me”, he smiles while he slips on his sneakers. I wrap my arms around his waist, squeezing as tight as my gratitude. He rests his chin on my head, rubbing my back to soothe.
“Thank you for trusting me”, he whispers. I thought I felt a kiss on my head, but I could be mistaken. He escorts me to a pharmacy, thankfully there is one at the corner.
“Is this your first time taking the morning after pill?”, he breaks the silence before we head inside.
“Yes, but a friend at home has taken it before”, I giggle to hide my nerves.
“It’s ok to be nervous, Sarah”, he pulls me aside.
“I’ll be ok”, I assure him. Without any question, he nods and takes me to the pharmacist counter. The pharmacist, who is a woman thank goodness, converse with Hyungwon for a minute in Korean. There’s a second where the pharmacist asks a question and he raises his hand, limiting eye contact.
“Have you had unprotected sex in the past seventy-two hours?”, Hyungwon translates a question for me. I nod.
“Are you on birth control or on other forms of contraception?”, he continues. I nod.
“Do you know that this isn’t a form of birth control?”, he adds to the list of questions. Once again, I nod. The pharmacist scans and bags the little box. I pull out my wallet from my purse, but Hyungwon pulls out his wallet first, beating me from paying.
“Hyungwon”, I nudge his arm.
“I said it was with me, so I claim responsibility”, he chuckles. That son of a bitch lied to a complete stranger for my sake. The pharmacist gives Hyungwon the instructions for the pill and wishes us a good day. We leave the pharmacy, relieved on how smooth that went. I turn to the direction of his dorm, but he takes me on another course.
“Just take it with water I assume?”, I wonder, attempting to grab the bag from him.
“Yes”, he notices and extends his arm for me not to reach. He always teases me on my height, comparing me to miniature objects or foods.We often refer to each other as string bean and the pea.
“You didn’t have to claim responsibility for this”, I pout.
“I know I didn’t”, he smirks.
“So, if this doesn’t work, you will still take responsibility?”, I joke.
“I will”, he blatantly admits.
“Hyungwon”, I gasp.
“You’re my friend, but I would take care of you. You know my brothers love you and would be happy for you to stay”, he continues. I nearly choke on my spit. Did I hear him correctly?
“First, you claim responsibility for my hypothetical child, then you say you would take care of me, and now you’re saying you want me to stay?”, I damn near hyperventilate. He abruptly stops.
“You said it yourself, it’s hypothetical. Wouldn’t you want to stay?”, he turns timid.
“Stay in Korea with you and the boys?”, I am touched by the consideration.
“Stay with me”, he struggles to speak. Hearing those three words from him makes me disassociate from the world around me. I hear nothing, I can see nothing, but his worrisome face, waiting for me to reply.
“I’m thinking about it”, I confess. Would I be willing to give up my life in the states to go here? How would I even know if I could live here? I’d need to learn more Korean, find a job, everything else I need to get done before I could even consider it. Dammit, but just hearing him say “stay with me” could be a factor of me saying fuck it.
The smile on his face happens to be one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen lately. It’s comfort some, sweet, and contagious.
“I’m getting you a treat”, he puts his arm around me. He swiftly takes me to a convenient store and buys me a coke and instant ramen. We cook the ramen at the store and take a seat at a nearby bench. He pulls out the little box and reads the back.
“Do you really think you could be pregnant?”, he wonders.
“I’ve been on birth control since high school, but you never know”, I sigh.
“Who was the guy?”, Hyungwon goes back to being timid.
“Just a one night stand, he’s not important”, I assure him.
“It wasn’t that good, huh?”, he teases. I burst out laughing. I love this part of our friendship, we can say shit like this to each other.
“Without giving any details, yes, it wasn’t the best”, I bashfully eat my ramen.
“That’s a shame”, he nudges my arm.
“Oh, bite me, it was just an experience, it wasn’t like I’m marrying the guy”, I scoff.
“You deserve better sex than that”, he shamelessly sips his soda.
“Damn right I do. If I do end up being pregnant, I’d hate to live with the memory of how it happened”, I roll my eyes. Hyungwon stares intensely at the box, obviously thinking about something.
“What’s on your mind?”, I tap on his ramen bowl to get his attention.
“Remembering how precious you were when your nephew was born”, he sighs. Really? That was months ago and I only remember sending him a couple of photos of me holding him.
“How was I precious?”, I wonder skeptically.
“The look you had holding him. Your sister sent me a video of you rocking him when he was still in the hospital, but she told me not to tell you”, he confesses.
“Oh no, don’t tell me I look good holding a baby, I already heard the speech from my dad”, I groan.
“You just looked really happy”, he explains before opening the box. He punches out the little pill with his thumb and places it in my hand.
“I need some growing up to do before I have any babies”, I confess.
“What do you mean?”, he finishes up his ramen.
“Not only do I need to have a good living situation, but I should also have financial stability and health stability before I should ever consider having a baby”, I explain.
“My offer still stands. I could take care of you, even without a baby”, he progressively gets more confident. The addition to his offer, “even without a baby”, makes me want to curl in a ball. This boy deserves a queen who will treasure him as much as I do, but how could that girl be me?
“And I appreciate that, Hyungwon, but you need to realize I don’t necessarily need to be taken care of”, I avoid eye contact. I’ve never been the damsel and I’d be damned if I start being one.
“But you’ll have the option”, he shrugs. I take the pill and swallow it with a sip of my coke.
“Why would you want to take care of me anyways?”, I slowly finish my ramen.
“Because you deserve a break. You work your ass off for everything you do and it’s exhausting you”, he rubs his hands together.
“That’s why I’m on vacation”, I shrug.
“Just to go back to work at a place that doesn’t appreciate what you bring to them. I know you, you won’t stop them from mistreating you”, he continues.
“You want me to stay so I won’t have to stress about work”, I realize.
“You won’t have to worry about the asshole”, he mentions. He’s referring to my bully of a co worker who is taking advantage of our boss’s willingness to help.
“I told you I didn’t want to talk about them while I’m on vacation”, I mumble.
“That’s my point. You have to wait till you’re on vacation in order to destress. That place is killing you”, he groans.
“I’ll think about it, Hyungwon”, I inhale.
“I will. I’ll think about staying”, I admit.
“Don’t do it for me. Do it for yourself”, he advises. He grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers. Why do I love how this feels? This friendship is platonic, I just admire how comfortable I am with this physical contact. We sit there for a minute, looking at our hands. Noticing how small my hands are compared to his.
“Let’s go watch that movie”, I break the comfortable silence.
We go throw out our trash and head back to the dorms. The boys welcome me with hugs. Getting to see these faces everyday doesn’t sound half bad. Seeing how happy they are to see me is making me overwhelmed. Should I stay and leave my troubles in the states? Would it be wrong of me to consider it? The boys started to notice my anxious behavior and got frantic on asking me questions. “Are you ok?”, “do you need some water”, “you can talk to us”, etcetera. The more questions I got, the more choked up I am. I want to tell them I’m ok, but I’m not. Hyungwon takes me to his room. He wraps a fuzzy blanket around me and embraces me like the little burrito that I am.
“I’ll get you some water. If you want to shower, you know where my clothes are”, he whispers before leaving the room. He knows me well enough to know that my routine of feeling better after something shitty happens is taking a shower. Maybe a shower is what I need.
So, I go to the bathroom outside of his bedroom and hop in the shower. A shower is definitely what I need. Our conversation of him taking care of me revolves in my brain like a broken record enough for me to finally cry. I didn’t want to look weak, I didn’t want to look needy. I’m not to him. He sees me as a woman who has had enough. He listened to me bitch and groan about my life in the states, long enough for him to want to change it. Fuck, it’s like he proposed to me, he just wants me to stay in Korea. I sit in the shower, letting the hot water sprinkle on me while I map out my thoughts.
I’ll be able to see him more than once a year. Hell, I’ll be able to see all of the good and the bad of him first hand, instead of over the phone. I’m getting all flustered just thinking about it. I’ll be there to comfort them during their tough nights at work. Yes, living with seven men doesn’t seem optimal for an individual woman’s sanity, but it won’t be far different than my living situation from college. Am I going to do this? Sleep on it tonight and see.
Out of the shower, I wrap myself in the towel and slip on one of his t-shirts. Thank goodness I’m tiny, his shirt is almost like a dress to me. I take a whiff of the collar. Fresh, clean cotton.
Hm, I wonder where he went? We were supposed to watch a movie. I check my phone, nothing. I plop on his bed and wrap myself in the fuzzy blanket. I think I gifted him this last Christmas.
Needless to say, I soon pass out.
The dream I have is unbelievable! Starting off with nothing out of the usual, Hyungwon and I lay next to each other on his bed, whatever. He scoots down to rest his head on my boobs, something he has never done. I knew it was a dream when he started kissing my chest. Felt so real, I wouldn’t be surprised if I squirmed in real life. I didn’t fight it. I was putty in this dream. He moved up to kiss my lips and I knew I was in danger. He hovers above me, but leaves too much space between. I wrap my legs around his hips and pull him straight down. His hands grip the crook of my knees to keep my legs up while he rolls his hips against me, still fully clothed. One moan from my mouth and I woke up.
I realize what happened and I scream in the pillow I was sleeping on. I just had a naughty dream of my friend! I want to hide, I want to vomit, I want to scream. I never saw him like that before, so why now! Never have we exchanged any interest in that!
There’s a knock on the door and I nearly fall off the bed. Hyungwon peaks his head in.
“Sarah?”, he wonders.
“Hyungwon!”, I cheerfully welcome, hiding my internal panic. He smiles at my adjusted mood.
“Feeling any better?”, he sweetly asks before handing me a glass of water.
“A lot better”, I pant before gulping the water, avoiding eye contact.
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i keep writing and rewriting my reaction to vincenzo because there are a lot but also i'm not certain i articulate everything i hated about the ending.
i will say that i knew no matter what that i wouldn't like the ending because murdering a character as punishment for their misdeeds is not something that appeals to me. i grew up watching kirikou et la sorcière, avatar: the last airbender, lilo and stitch, and (more recently) moana. all of these are stories that say "here is an evil character that we'll stop in a way that doesn't involve jail/murder," and the only exception i make for this is light yagami's death in death note and that's because ryuk killed him as a way to end their relationship, not as a punishment for his crimes. (and gothic lit is exempt bc they have to be resolved with murder.) so, whatever happened, regardless of how much violence the babel four did, none of their deaths would have held any emotional satisfaction for me. yet i prepared myself to be unimpressed by the finale since this is what the set up has always been: vincenzo will kill hanseok, and maybe myunghee, seunghyeok, and hanseo.
i knew this from the beginning. the narrative repeated it so often i got annoyed. there were so many close calls with vincenzo pulling a gun on hanseok that that got boring. by the time ep. 20 rolled around i was just fed up and wanted someone to die because this show had already failed me so many other times with their set ups that i wanted at least one good payoff.
lo and behold, they did end up killing the four characters i thought would die. hanseo died, and though he was my favorite character, and though i felt sad he didn't get any funeral scene or help while he was fending off his brother and that his death served as a sacrifice for vincenzo instead of literally anything else, i didn't cry or even get mad about it. he died and i felt free to stop caring about the rest of the story. yay me! i do understand the fans who hated that he was killed and that he should've survived bc abuse victims don't deserve the storyline hanseo got, but this is not a show i expected to actually care about victims. despite what it says, i knew i wouldn't get this for hanseo waaaaay back in ep 8 when they brought up the victims of that gay banker and just used it as a way for us to root against the banker. they didn't treat those victims with any respect at all and so i was already prepared for them to do it all over again. and they did and it sucks, but again for me i couldn’t get as angry as i normally would about this bc i always knew that the deaths from this show would never mean anything to me bc there was just so much of it it became meaningless.
another thing i knew that was going to let me down about this show is that it didn’t have a single “good” character for me to root for. mr. hong existed, but he was murdered early on. every other character on the show is too corrupt to be the ones i would want handling a reconstruction project for a more ethical world. yes, they made hanseo go through a redemption arc, but they didn’t let him stay did they? they focused so much on deconstruction they never cared about reconstruction. so when they got to the ending where vincenzo just leaves, chayoung and the tenants are thrown into a familiar cycle of court cases and defending their plaza from it being redeveloped, vincenzo just goes on to be a mafia boss again, and the guillotine file is back in the hands of the corrupt intelligence agency that created it on the orders of their president. the only thing that changed was babel group was destroyed bc their two ceos were murdered and the lawyers of their legal rep. were also murdered.
and yet, despite my expectations being so low they were basically non-existent, i was still disappointed. they didn't let chayoung do anything (which i knew would happen because i knew something about her characterization never felt fully fledged to me the way it did to fandom, so i wasn't surprised when they delegated her as a damsel-in-distress/love interest.), they killed myunghee the way we used to burn witches (which how fitting for a female character that is cunning and cruel), and the way they killed hanseok literally made me feel faint and nauseous (i wish this was an exaggeration; the second i saw the drill pointed at him i started feeling this way and i couldn't listen/watch his death scene because it was so brutal).
so, the ending satisfied nothing for me. if people who shipped the main characters were satisfied, whatever. i was never interested in them as a ship (i tend to ship vincenzo and chayoung with other characters), so the ending was even more disappointing bc it really held nothing that mattered to me.
i was also not a person that liked the way each character idolized vincenzo because i preferred his relationships with other characters to be filled with more tension* and the narrative just told me that the writers didn't, that vincenzo's word was what mattered, that the other character's conflicting needs were meant to be eclipsed by vincenzo's needs. so when the characters were all looking into the horizon hoping that vincenzo would some day come back (for what, i ask you?) i was just like :|
(*what do i mean by tension? i mean my favorite version of chayoung/vincenzo was the early eps when she hated him for being liked so much by her father that her flaws as a daughter were highlighted more and chayoung's own hesitancy with murder bumping up against vincenzo’s lack of hesitancy. mr. cho/vincenzo were most interesting when mr. cho wanted the guillotine file to use for his own purposes. the tenants/vincenzo were the most interesting when the tenants wanted to take the gold and vincenzo was trying to stop them. even hanseo/vincenzo was the most interesting when they had the "will you kill me? will you betray me?" tension as they worked together to get rid of hanseok. these dynamics added layers to the characters and reminded us they had their own motivations that were as equally important as vincenzo’s, but not enough of these tensions lasted past a few episodes and almost always would vincenzo's needs prevail with most of the other characters going along with his plans in the end.)
and this is all without mentioning how fandom sort of ruined a lot of the show for me, too. they took the characteristics that made the myunghee/hanseok dynamic one of my favorites and gave it to chayoung/vincenzo to the point where i was always left baffled and feeling like i was watching a different show. (a good point about the end for me is that i feel vindicated watching the scene where chayoung was basically like "i don't like your methods, vincenzo, but i needed to use them as the lesser of two evils to destroy hanseok," bc it did sort of reinforce for me my own reading of chayoung which was that she doesn't mind being corrupt and blackmailing people or scaring them into compliance, but that she was not going to get her hands covered in blood or dance over the corpses of her enemy. those traits belong to myunghee who accepts her role as a villain in a way that is as cool and collected as vincenzo. and lord, imagine what a show it would've been if the writers had made the kings chayoung/hanseok, the last ones that should ever be taken, while the queens were vincenzo/myunghee who would be the ones that would make all the moves, kill all their enemies pieces, and try to destroy one another first as the two most powerful players in the game? imagine if fandom had been able to read chayoung and myunghee accurately enough that i wouldn’t have to read post after post talking about how they needed to see myunghee brutally murdered/tortured by chayoung because they would understand chayoung’s character isn’t going to do that, posts which i hated seeing bc, as i said before, violence for violence’s sake means nothing to me? imagine if the writers cared enough about chayoung/myunghee to develop them more fully? sigh.)
i feel like i'm going nowhere with this and that i'm repeating myself a lot or not making much sense. but i'll end with this: i knew the last two episodes were going to be garbage when they all gathered at toto's restaurant post-fight in ep 19 and all they were talking about was vincenzo this and vincenzo that instead of worrying after the ones that were momentarily kidnapped/injured. like thanks show, for instead of pushing the narrative along we get a vincenzo fan club meeting and another round of "i never had anything to fight for until you came along" which is a convo we've had plenty of times before.
(footnote: i edited this on may 6, 2021 for clarity.)
#anyway i'm glad i don't have to worry about the nonsense idea of a season two#and if there is one i won't have to subject myself to it bc they killed not only my favorite character#but also the 3 others that made the show interesting#so anything of value a potential season 2 would have is already nixed#i have been set free from a drama that started out extremely promising but petered out into a series of bad tropes & nonsensical metaphors#and bc there is nothing in the final eps that interests me i don't have to scroll through the tag and subject myself#to scenes of myunghee's or hanseok's deaths which were extremely upsetting to me#now time to think about writing that one chayoung character study fic that has been swirling around in my head for a bit#and those hanseo aus i've been playing around with that make me happy just thinking about#e.e.c. watches vincenzo
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Return to Me - Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight: Hopeless Afterall
A/N: Ayyy! Sorry it’s a little late and a little short! I took the title for this chapter from Rewrite the Stars from the Greatest Showman, and also one of the lyrics slipped its way into the dialogue. I hope you like! There is a lot of good angst in this one, my dudes. Confessions of love, too!!! Anyways, let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged and all that jazz!
Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 3,889 Synopsis: Still struggling to make amends for his Dreadnought plan, Poe tries to save the Resistance, while also trying to salvage your relationship, which now more than ever feels necessary after your confession on the bridge.
Tag List: @xeniarocks, @too-many-baes, @araceli91103, @holybatflapexpert, @themihala, @idocarealot, @treblebeth, @treestarrrrrrrr, @thescarletknight2014, @charlottie2998, @ibikus, @mellow-f1, @mrsdaamneron, @trustme3-13 @missjess71, @ella-solei, @minelskede, @gleigh42, @usuallyweepingnacho, @givemethatgold, @and-claudia, @constantdisgrace, @wordsinwinters, @readingvogueonprivetdrive, @trshbb, @kaitlynw011, @ihave2muchtimeonmyhands, @constantdisgrace, @fairytalesforever, @thanos-jeep, @mixedfandxms, @pastelbunny1501, @emotionalcal, @daniellajocelyn
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
Neither you nor Poe spoke the entire walk back to the heart of the cruiser. You were each too lost in your own thoughts of the revelation that you still loved him to find the words to say to talk about it. As you were about to turn down the way towards Leia’s room, Poe grabbed your elbow.
“What?” you asked, looking back at him. Your eyes connected with his, making you pull away and avert your eyes.
“I don’t think we should stay in Leia’s room anymore. She needs her rest, and there’s no way Zaisa would let you leave again.”
“Why would I need to leave again?”
“More mutinying, obviously,” he said, grinning deviously at you.
“Of course,” you laughed.
“I was going to head back to my quarters,” he said, motioning down the hall.
“Right,” you said, shaking your head, “You must be exhausted. Go ahead, I don’t—”
“No, Y/N, I meant you should come with me.” Just him saying your name started a fire in your chest, much less his invitation to come back with him to his quarters. “Besides, if anyone deserves to be exhausted, it’s you. You’ve gone through too much in the last day or so. You need to rest. Come with me,” he said again.
“I can’t,” you said with a gentle smile.
“Says who?” He took your hand in his slowly, biting his lip as he did, waiting patiently for your reaction. You didn’t pull away, just looked at him cautiously. This was absolutely a bad idea, but when he was holding your hand and looking at you with those dark eyes of his, you couldn’t find the words to say so. When you didn’t argue, he led you across the cruiser until you came into the hallway filled with crew member designated rooms. He pushed open the door to one and allowed you to walk in first.
“So, what do you think Holdo’s reaction will be when she realizes your plan?” you asked. Poe laughed as he shut the door behind him.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not worried about her response?” you asked, turning to look back at him, the skirt of your dress spiraling out in cascades around you. For a moment, like in the old days, your beauty took his breath away.
“No,” he said after a pause, “Because I have faith in our plan.”
“Our plan?” you asked, your smile growing, “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. When you get caught, the blame is going to be all on you.”
“And when it saves the Resistance,” he said, strolling in front of you, “You can bask in my glory.” You rolled your eyes, laughing at him. There was a pause where the two of you only smiled at each other. You couldn’t help but glance down at his lips. As he took a minuscule step towards you, you turned away, looking at the minimalistic décor in the room.
“I heard what you said,” he admitted with a sigh.
“What?” you asked, turning your head just slightly, too scared to look at him fully.
“To Karé. I heard everything.”
“I know you did,” you said quietly.
“Did you mean it?” he asked. You looked back at him, frowning softly.
“What does it matter?”
“It matters to me,” he said, taking a step closer. You took a breath and nodded slowly.
“I meant every word.” He moved forward until he was right in front of you, his gorgeous brown eyes looking into yours.
“I love you,” he said. You broke out into a painfully sad smile, putting your hand on his cheek. “I know I was supposed to move on, but I couldn’t.”
“I love you, too.”
“Good,” he said, grabbing hold of your waist. He tried to close the gap between the two of you, but you pulled away, your eyes closed. “Y/N.”
“What?” you asked, taking a step back, “We can’t do this.”
“Yes, we can.”
“You think it’s easy? You think I don’t want to run to you?” you asked, shaking your head. “I do. But there is too much keeping us apart.” Poe frowned and set his jaw. “I wish things were different, but they’re just not.”
“And in two years?”
“I don’t know,” you said weakly.
“You know, one kiss wouldn’t kill you,” he said, smiling out of the corner of his mouth.
“I think it would.” He nodded and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry. I should go.” You didn’t wait for his response as you walked to the door, shutting it carefully behind you.
Poe flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. When he found out you still loved him, he didn’t imagine things going this way. When he heard you telling Karé your feelings for him, he only thought about the good things that could come from that. You still loved him, you could fight your way back to each other. But he was stupid to forget about the things still keeping the two of you apart. You were still queen, and if you were re-elected, which he knew you would be, considering how much the people loved you, there would still be another two years before you could get back to one another.
He knew this, and yet, there was still a cynical piece inside of him that knew that these moments you had on the cruiser together might be your last. If things were to go badly, this could be the last chance the two of you had to be together. He’d much rather spend one more day with you in his arms if things were going to end the way they seemed.
Just as he was about to stand and find you, you rushed back into the room.
“What is it?” he asked, jumping up out of bed, taking in the panic in your face. “Are you alright?”
“You need to see this,” you said, taking his hand and leading him out into the hallway. You raced down to the end of the hall until you came upon a viewing window. Poe instantly saw what had caused your panic as he watched in horror as the accompanying ships following your cruiser were destroyed before his eyes.
“What the hell is Holdo doing?” he asked. You were only able to shake your head in response, the fear that you had kept at bay before beginning to creep back in. He started to move towards the door, but you grabbed his hand.
“Poe, don't.”
“You don't even know what I'm going to do,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
“You're going to confront Amilyn.”
“I know she was your mentor and I know she's done a lot of good for the Resistance, but—”
“But you don't agree with her plan,” you finished.
“This isn't a plan,” he said softly, pointing at the floating remains of your medical ship, “I'll try not to make too much trouble.”
“I find that very hard to believe,” you said, looking at him plainly.
“If you're so worried, come with me.” You raised your eyebrows, trying to tell if he was serious or not.
“And stop you from making a scene?” you asked as he opened the door.
“If you think you can,” he called, already making his way up the stairs. You ran after him but trying to keep up in your dress was proving more difficult than you initially thought. By the time you got to the same level, he was already at the entrance of the bridge.
“Dammit,” you cursed under your breath, following him as quick as you could without drawing attention to yourself.
“She in there?” Poe asked, storming right past Commander D'Acy.
“The Admiral banned you from the Bridge, let's not have a scene,” she tried.
“No, let's. Holdo!?” he yelled, stalking onto the bridge. You flashed a sympathetic smile at D’Acy as you also walked past.
“Flyboy,” Amilyn said with contempt.
“Cut it, lady. We had a fleet, now we're down to one ship, and you've told us nothing. Tell us that we have a plan! That there's hope,” he yelled, gesturing to the rest of the crew members aboard the bridge.
“When I served under Leia, she would say, 'Hope is like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it'—”
“'You'll never make it through the night,'” Poe finished.
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. She glanced over at you, and you could see that she was annoyed by Poe's attitude but clearly trying to keep the scene from escalating. That hope was completely squashed as Poe walked past her and looked at the command screens.
“Are you fueling up the transports?” he asked, “You are. All of them? We're abandoning ship, is that— That's what you got? That's what you brought us to?” he asked, kicking the edge of the screen, and eventually throwing a chair down in anger.
“Poe—” you tried, but he was already well into his rant.
“Coward! Those transport ships are unarmed, unshielded. We abandon this cruiser, we're done. We don't stand a chance. No, you're not just a coward, you are a traitor,” he yelled, getting in her face. At his final word, you sighed. Whatever hope you had about reconciling the relationship on the bridge was lost.
“Get this man off my bridge,” Holdo ordered, her eyes narrowing. Two guards walked up, but Poe shook them off. He stalked off the bridge with the same fervor as when he came aboard.
“Vice Admiral,” you said, cautiously taking a step towards her.
“Speak carefully, Your Highness, or I'll send you off with your ex-husband,” she said, glaring at you, somewhat softer than she had Poe.
“I agree he was out of line there, but you have to admit your plan isn't exactly in good faith.”
“You don't have to have faith in it, Y/N,” she said tiredly, “This is the best plan for our survival, trust that.”
“I’ve always trusted you,” you said seriously. She smiled at you gently.
“Try to convince Captain Dameron to do the same.” You nodded and looked back towards the door Poe had just left out of.
“I’m sorry, he's not usually like this.”
“You didn’t bring this out of him,” she said, reading your face, “He knows what his dreadnought plan did to our chances.” She put a caring hand on your shoulder as you frowned. “Please get back to where it's safe. When it's time, I’ll call for you. Poe, too.”
“Yes, Vice Admiral.” You walked off of the bridge and this time Poe wasn't waiting directly outside. You made your way to Leia's room again, but before you could open it, someone touched your back. You jumped with a gasp and turned to look at Poe. “Hey.”
“Hey, sorry. I didn't think it was smart to hang around the bridge.”
“Yeah, where was that thinking when you called Holdo a traitor?”
“Do you agree with this plan?” he asked, scoffing slightly at your question.
“It’s not my call. Or yours for that matter,” you added carefully. “Where are Rose and Finn?”
“Canto Bight.”
“Still?” you asked. Poe sighed, leaning up against the wall.
“Yeah.” You stood against the wall next to him, looking up at him. “I know I lost my temper, but if we leave in the transports, we're dead.”
“Maybe there's another part to the plan,” you tried. He looked at you, frowning playfully.
“Maybe.” You took in a deep breath and hesitantly touched his chest. He covered your hand with his and looked lovingly into your eyes. You were about to betray all the promises you made to yourself and Naboo, just as the door to Leia’s room opened up.
“Where the hell have you been?” Nové asked.
“Where have you been?” you asked.
“Trying to make contact with Naboo.”
“Anything?” you asked, taking an eager step towards her. She shook her head solemnly. “Why would they even want to attack Naboo? We are a peaceful planet.”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll let me know if anything changes?” Poe asked. You both looked at him incredulously.
“What? Where are you going?” you asked.
“I’ve got to save the Resistance.”
“Alone?”
“If I’m the only one, yes.”
“But you’re not,” you said. Poe sighed and glanced over at Nové. She rolled her eyes but put on a polite smile afterward.
“I’ll go check on Leia,” she said, giving the two of you a minute of privacy. You waited until the door shut behind her before looking back at Poe. He seemed to be little more than an inch away from you, causing your heart to pound faster in your chest.
“You need to tell Holdo your plan,” you said.
“That's the dumbest idea you've ever had.”
“Maybe it is,” you said, pushing him softly, “But if this really is the best choice, then that's what we have to do.”
“You don't believe in this plan anymore?”
“I believe in you.” He looked into your eyes, and you could see every stressor that was clouding his mind. “I know Amilyn. If you tell her the plan, she might go along with it.”
“And if she doesn't?”
“We don't have any other choice.”
“We never do,” he said, sighing deeply. You frowned and nodded your head. He was right. For the last two years, every change and decision was made for the two of you. You hadn’t been in charge of your own fates for a long time now.
“I know.” You waited a few moments, the two of you solely staring at your feet, wanting to say so much that you couldn’t. “So, do you want to tell her, or should I?” He laughed quietly and took your hand in his.
“Y/N, you have to go with Nové, Leia, and Zaisa and get on the escape pods.”
“The pods that have no defenses?” you asked in shock.
“I promise you, you will not leave this cruiser, and you won’t be hurt.” He cupped your cheek in his hand, pulling you in closer. “I know you coming here was supposed to be secret, but by the time we get out of here, and we will,” he added seriously, “I don’t want your reputation as queen to be tarnished because you aided in a mutiny.”
“I’m not sure my reputation will matter if our plan doesn’t work.”
“It will,” he said with a gentle smile.
Down the hall, the doors opened, and a group of officers began walking towards you. You looked up at Poe and gave him one last smile before turning him to the other end of the hallway.
“Go!” you whispered. You spun back around and found yourself face to face with one of the officers. “Can I help you?”
“We're here to take General Organa down to the escape pods. You will need to make your way down as well, Your Highness.”
“Of course,” you said with a charming smile, waving towards the door. The officers went in first and rolled Leia out, still unconscious on her hospital bed. You locked eyes with Nové, and together the two of you walked behind the officers, making your way down to the pods with no idea where Poe was, or how the plan was going.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
“Holdo is fueling up the transports and we’re supposed to get on them.”
“To go where?” Nové asked, her voice rising slightly, turning the attention of the two officers. You gave them a polite smile and they turned back around. You waited a few more moments until speaking again.
“Poe is going to tell Holdo our plan,” you whispered.
“Your plan? I didn’t realize you had such a big part of it,” she said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at her and continued on.
“I don’t think she’ll take it too well, but Poe has promised me that we won’t be leaving in these transports,” you said as you walked into the hangar. All around you, people were filing into their transports, taking what supplies they could with them. It very much looked like an evacuation was underway, and you started to worry how Poe was going to keep his promise.
“He ever let you down before?” Nové asked, looking at you.
“Not usually,” you said, peering around the hangar to see if he was here yet or not. As the guards began to escort you to your pod, you saw Poe again, talking with Amilyn. You took in a deep breath and grabbed Nové’s hand for comfort, watching their interaction unfold.
“So, a stormtrooper and a who now are doing what?” Amilyn asked, her confusion and annoyance evident on her face.
“They are trying to save us. This is our best chance for escape. You have to give Finn and Rose all the time that you can,” Poe said.
“You have bet the survival of the Resistance on bad odds and puts us all at risk. There's no time now, we have to get clear of the cruiser. Load the transports!” she commanded. The crew around them began to turn and file into the transports, and Nové pushed you along to join. As you walked past, you looked over at Poe who nodded only slightly. You still had to keep up appearances but wanted to give him some kind of reassurance.
“Yeah, I was afraid you'd say that,” Poe said, pulling his blaster out of his holster. The group behind him did the same, turning their weapons on their fellow crew members.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Nové kept on trying to push you into the transport, but you couldn't stop watching.
“Vice Admiral Holdo,” Poe ordered, “I am relieving you of your command for the survival of the ship, its crew, and the Resistance.”
“I hope you understand what you're doing,” she said firmly, her hands raised. Poe frowned, re-holstering his blaster.
“Yeah. I'm going to the bridge. If they move, stun them.”
“Get on the transport, Y/N,” Nové whispered. “Just follow Holdo's orders.” There was no way that they were going to take off if Poe was in charge, but everyone worked on getting them ready, nonetheless, unsure about who they should be following.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Poe stormed back up to the bridge, Connix following behind him.
“What’s the plan, Captain?” she asked, the new title still stinging a bit.
“Finn and Rose. They’re close. We wait for them to give us the go-ahead and we jump far away from the First Order.” He stalked onto the bridge, taking a seat at the piloting command.
“Commander Dameron-- Ah, Captain Dameron, Vice Admiral Holdo was looking for you,” C3PO said as he walked past.
“Yeah, we spoke,” Poe said quickly, flipping some of the controls to ready the cruiser for a jump to lightspeed.
“Sir, I am almost afraid to ask,” the droid said, hobbling his way to Poe’s side.
“Good instinct, Threepio, go with that,” Poe said, spinning himself around to face the front of the ship. He switched the power off to the hangar immediately, knowing that he couldn’t waste much more fuel on powering it. As he did though, it wasn’t long after that he saw stunning shots being fired down in the hangar as smoke clouded his view of what was happening.
“Seal that door!” he ordered. Connix ran to do so, looking back at Poe panicked. Poe listened closely to what Finn and Rose were saying. They were so close, he only needed to wait a few minutes longer and then he could get you and everyone else out of here safely.
He heard metallic footsteps and turned to look back at C3PO, who was making his way towards the door.
“Threepio, where do you think you’re going?”
“It would be quite against my programming to be party to a mutiny.”
“Hey!” Poe called as he continued for the door.
“It is not correct protocol.” Just as he was a few feet away from the door, sparking and blaster shots came from the other end. “Oh! Neither is this!” he said, instantly running back away from the door.
“Finn?” Poe asked anxiously, “We’re ready to make the jump!” He listened to what they were saying, but he still needed to stall, and by the looks of the door, he didn’t have much time. He moved around to the backside of the pilot’s chair, pulling out his blaster as he did. He aimed it at the door, still making sure that he could make the jump to lightspeed once Finn and Rose gave him the signal.
It was starting to look worse and worse, and the only thing that was keeping him from completely losing his cool and doing something even more foolish was the fact that you were still on board. He needed to keep you safe. The Resistance needed to be kept safe. Everyone he loved was on this ship, and with you backing him up, he knew that he couldn’t fail, and he absolutely did not want to.
The door was beginning to break and just as Poe was readying himself for a fight, he heard the sound of Stormtroopers order Finn and Rose to get down.
“They didn’t make it,” he said weakly, just as the door blasted open. He waited for the smoke to clear, wondering which one of his friends he was going to have to stun when he saw who came through the door first. Wrapped in her hospital clothing, the one person he looked up to more than anyone stood in front of him, a disappointed look on her face.
“Leia!” Poe said in shock, just before he saw her pull out her own blaster and stun him into the wall painfully.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Y/N, would you please just sit?” Nové asked, quickly tiring of you pacing around the tiny transport.
“Someone should have been back by now. What if they did something stupid?” you asked frantically. “Emotions are high, they’re both angry. I know they wouldn’t hurt each other on purpose, but they both think they’re in the right--”
You stopped your rant as all eyes turned back towards the entrance to the hangar. Amilyn walked in first, which you weren’t sure was a good or bad thing. You breathed a sigh of relief though at seeing her safe. The air was taken from you as you saw the next person to walk onto the hangar, or better yet, to be rolled onto the hangar.
Poe was being led in on a stretcher, with Leia walking behind him.
#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron imagine#sw imagine#poe dameron x you#star wars#star wars fanfic#star wars fanfiction#poe dameron fanfic#poe dameron fanfiction#sw#sw fanfic#sw fanfiction#return to me
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The Long Game ch. 5
Rayla sighed as she felt Callum’s forehead. “He’s still burning up.” The doctor sighed, gesturing towards the medicine to the side.
“Make sure he takes it, Lady Rayla.”
“OK.” Rayla barely noticed as the doctor left the room. Callum had come down with a high fever and a sore throat a few days ago, complaining of aches and shaking as he grew pale very quickly. The past 24 hours, he had barely been conscious, and when he was, his gaze was unfocused and his breathing worse.
Rayla had barely left his side since he became bedridden, finding it difficult to leave him. The whispers that it was improper couldn’t get her to leave him. Harrow visited frequently and Ezran rarely left the room, either. Currently, Ezran was discussing something important with Opeli. Rayla should care, it was her job to care, but she didn’t. Gently, she held Callum’s hand and ran her thumb along the back of his hand. “Get better. Please. I can’t do this without you.” What even was ‘this’? Her mission? No. Life? Maybe. “I need you.”
“Is everything OK?” Ezran asked from behind. Rayla didn’t even turn around, nodding as her eyes remained on Callum’s prone form.
“The doctor didn’t look pleased, but he said Callum needs to keep taking the medicine.”
“That’s probably the best we could have hoped for.” Ezran sat in the chair on the other side, Bait in his lap. “Maybe if you told him you love him-”
“Stop it, Ez. I don’t love him.”
“Why are you lying? Everyone can see it. Well, not him.”
Rayla looked over at Ezran, shaking her head. “No, Ezran. He’s meant for something better than me. That’s final.”
“Why are you like this? You two wouldn’t be the first couple where someone was from a royal background and the other person wasn’t.”
Rayla stayed quiet. She knew the real answer why she couldn’t be with Callum, but Ezran didn’t. “He needs more water. I’ll get a maid to go get some.”
“Rayla-”
“Let it go, Ezran. Please. My feelings are not important. I’ll ask for them to bring us dinner here, too, OK?” Ezran sighed, but nodded in assent. Bait looked at her with concern. Great, the glowing frog was also worried about her.
Rayla grabbed a passing maid, asking for water and dinner. Instead of heading back in and risk being interrogated by Ezran again, she took a walk around the castle. Everyone stared at her like she was a ghost. They had barely seen her in a few days, but was it really that surprising? The sunlight against her skin as she passed the windows felt nice, warm. “He’s going to get better, right?” she whispered into the air.
She hadn’t seen Claudia since Callum fell ill, despite how often she tried to hang around nowadays. Rayla didn’t trust it. Viren had to be up to something. The longer she was here, the clearer it was that anything involving dark magic was Viren’s idea and that he convinced Harrow to take that route. Harrow didn’t trust dark magic anymore, supposedly, and they fought constantly.
“You can’t be serious!” Rayla turned to the door on her right, shocked that it was Harrow’s study she had found herself in front of. She quietly opened the door, looking in to see Viren and Harrow arguing. “No more dark magic!”
“Xadia hasn’t attacked us, Harrow!”
“GREAT! Excellent! Why are we tempting fate?”
“Because that girl-”
“Do you mean Rayla?”
“Yes, her. She came in out of nowhere, no evidence of what she claimed anywhere, and you just took her in. What if she’s a spy?”
“She’s a child, Viren.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. What if all of this is a ploy to get access to you? What if she wants to marry one of your sons?”
“She’ll have my blessing if she and Callum actually confess their feelings for each other.”
“I can’t believe you are encouraging them. You should be encouraging Callum to pay attention to Claudia.”
“Viren, Claudia likes girls. Everyone has known that since she the incident with the bakery girl. Why are you so desperate for the two of them to be miserable?”
“Because it would unite our houses!”
“And, what, Viren? Bring you back into my good graces? Make me forget what you did to that egg?!” Rayla’s eyes widened, wrapping her hand around her mouth to keep the gasp from escaping. They still hadn’t discovered she was there, but she wasn’t going to risk them learning.
“It doesn’t matter, Harrow.”
“IT WAS AN EGG! An innocent! Killing Thunder because he killed Sarai was one thing. But you killed his egg and took a magic mirror. And the Dragon Guard? You want to explain to me what happened to them?”
“I told you, they ran away!”
“I don’t believe you. What did you do?” Viren was quiet for so long Rayla didn’t know if that was the end of the conversation or not. She heard clinking followed by a gasp from Harrow. “What have you done?!” She couldn’t see through the crack, but whatever Viren had showed him, it had caused Harrow’s face to go pale. “They were people-”
“Elves who were going to kill us!”
“You can’t prove that! If you had just left the damned egg alone, Viren. What have you done? Free them at once!”
“No.”
“Viren!”
“NO! That just leaves a bunch of elves running around Katolis!”
“How many do you have?” Viren was quiet again. “Gods, how long have you been doing this? Do you keep them for experiments?”
“No. I’ve never released them.” Released them from what? Rayla wanted to know what was happening, but neither Harrow nor Viren was being explicit enough. What if…whatever it was, it was her parents? Did something happen to her parents? Had they not abandoned the Dragon Prince after all? “Whose to say what would happen if they were ever released from the coins.”
‘Coins?’
Rayla didn’t have time to contemplate it. Harrow growled a ‘get out’ and she had to quickly move away as Viren stormed out of the room. He saw her and glared.
“You don’t belong here, girl.” Viren walked away, not turning back to her.
Rayla looked in the study only to see Harrow slouched in his chair. He looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Your Majesty?” He looked up, nodding. “Is everything alright?”
“Fine. How’s Callum?”
“The doctor said that he needs to continue with his medicine.”
“Of course. He’ll be fine, then. Will you and Ezran be having dinner in his room again this evening?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Please, Rayla, call me ‘Harrow.’” She nodded.
“Harrow, I heard you and Viren arguing.”
“Don’t mind it, Rayla, please. Just too old men arguing about old things.”
“But, you mentioned the Dragon King.”
“Rayla. I trust you, I do, but I need you to understand that I have not always done the right thing. I’ve let my grief consume me.” Rayla waited for him to continue, sensing that if she said a word, he wouldn’t tell her more. “In my grief, I made a bad decision. I went with Viren on a mission of revenge, to kill the Dragon King for killing Sarai. Sarai deserved to live.”
“But, Sarai took a life.”
Harrow looked down at the ground, a tear going down his cheek. “She shouldn’t have been there. She went because she believed we should stand together, but she didn’t believe in the mission. She thought it was a shortcut. And what happened? She was right. It worked, but it cost us her life. Ezran has no memories of her and Callum was effectively orphaned. It was my fault. If I had just made a decision sooner, if I had been smarter with the Queens of Duren….”
Rayla placed a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it. “I’m sorry. Everything I’ve heard has made her out to be a wonderful person. She didn’t deserve to die. Do you regret any of it?”
“I don’t know. I regret how things have played out and for letting Viren persuade me into using dark magic, but I don’t feel regret for killing Thunder.”
“What about the egg?”
“I have no idea what Viren’s done with that egg. I wonder if he destroyed it or used it or is lying to me. Either way, it was an innocent and should have been left alone. What if Xadia comes for my sons in revenge?” Rayla gulped. ‘That’s why I’m here, Your Highness.’
“Maybe you should ban dark magic. Stop Ezran from having those same choices offered to him?”
“Viren has too much influence. It’s my own fault. Taking away dark magic could leave use defenseless. Besides, Xadia would get what it has always wanted but what about letting us back in?”
“What if that’s what it would take? An act of good will?”
“It’s too late for me. It’s not too late for Ezran and Callum, though. My hope is that they will choose peace every time. Some day soon, I hope you will stand with them.”
“Me?”
Harrow finally looked up. His green eyes were full of such hope and sorrow it almost broke Rayla’s own heart. “I see the way you look at Callum. Your souls are screaming for each other. You never deny it; your feelings or that he has them for you. Why don’t you act on it?”
“Because, I am not meant for this life. Because I don’t think he loves me the way you and everyone else seems convinced he is. Even if he was, you can’t rewrite the stars for two people. I have to return to him. Good day, Harrow.” Rayla curtsied to Harrow before he could say more and left. The egg could still be alive. The Dragon Prince could still be alive! She was going to have to search every corner of this castle until she knew for sure whether or not that was true.
For now, she had to return to Callum and Ezran. When she got back to the room, Callum’s eyes were half-open. He groaned, hand reaching out towards her. She rushed forward, taking his hand in her’s and holding it to her chest. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry I was so long.”
Ezran stayed quiet, but she could feel his eyes on her. Rayla didn’t care. She fed Callum his dinner and barely left except to bathe and take the occasional walk. When Callum recovered three days later, he awoke to Rayla holding his hand, a relieved smile on her face. “Morning, sleepyhead. We missed you.”
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whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still (4/6)
Read on AO3. - A chapter ahead over there.
Warnings: mentions of murder and childhood abuse
iv. Max
‘And Max. He’s your brother? You were found together?’
Michael nods but frowns. ‘We’re brothers in theory, I guess.’
‘In theory? Explain that.’ Dr. Sampson hands him a cup of coffee and settles back into her seat.
He shrugs. ‘He and Isobel were adopted together. I got thrown into the system. Once I returned to Roswell, we struggled - I struggled.’ He clears his throat and takes a sip of the coffee. ‘He can be a condescending dick. And as de facto leader, he pisses me off - a lot.’
‘Have you ever been close?’ Dr. Sampson has a voice that lures things from you - ugly truths that you never made a conscious decision to admit. To yourself or anyone else. Michael decides it’s her superpower.
‘Once. Back in high school. Before all the lies.’
She smiles warmly, trying to soothe the answers loose. ‘I know you two aren’t blood related, Michael. And that your relationship is often strained. But do you still think of him as your brother?’
‘Only sometimes.’
***
Michael doesn’t immediately go to Max. He drags his feet for a couple of weeks and is happy to continue doing so, but Isobel has other ideas. She begins orchestrating reasons for family meetings - their doppelganger problem, Liz and Max’s emotional crisis, her desire to cook some new recipe.
None of her plans work. Michael too stubborn and Max too oblivious. It’s not until Max unexpectedly climbs down into Michael’s bunker that avoidance is no longer possible. And he comes at the worst moment. Michael is already fuming - his newest calculations providing nothing but bad news. No matter how many simulations he runs. It’s frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as when he’d run into Alex and Forrest that morning. At the Crashdown having breakfast, hands touching across the table. This time they had noticed him and he honestly wishes they hadn't.
‘Not in the mood, Maxwell.’ He doesn’t bother looking up from his worktable.
Max ignores him and slides a stool over, sitting far enough away that Michael can’t reach him. Already playing defense to Michael’s anger. ‘You’re never going to be in the mood for this, so sit down and listen.’
Michael laughs, bitter and sarcastic. ‘Fuck you, Max.’
‘I don’t want to be the leader of this anymore.’ He motions vaguely around the bunker.
That certainly grabs Michael’s attention. ‘Come to handover your letter of resignation?’ He sits down on his own stool and smirks at Max. ‘Because I accept. Long live Queen Isobel.’
‘Not Isobel, Michael. You.’ He’s looking at Michael through those big, brown puppy dog eyes - full of sincerity. Not a single hint of humor anywhere on his face.
Michael laughs anyway. ‘I don’t have time for this, Max. Go brood somewhere else.’
Max stays quiet but he doesn’t move. He watches Michael work for a long time. It frustrates Michael because it’s always been one of his favorite strategies. Wait him out until he crumbles - which Michael always does because Max can be a patient motherfucker once he digs his heels in and decides to be an asshole.
The air around them thickens and when Max clears his throat, Michael comes the tiniest bit unhinged.
‘Alright, fuck! Say what you came to say. I’ll listen.’ He only half means it, but Max seems satisfied enough.
‘Sheriff Valenti confessed something to me a few months back. Something I’ve kept from you and Isobel.’ He stares down at his hands and grimaces. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you or what any of it meant or even who I was anymore. And that was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, Michael. Especially with you.’
Michael rolls his eyes at Max’s melodramatics. ‘Spare me the contrition, Max. Just spit it out already. I have work to do.’
‘It wasn’t you in the group home who was drawing all over the walls. It was me.’ Their eyes meet over the table and a heated silence falls around them. Michael blinks slowly, not comprehending what he’s just heard. ‘I was the deranged, damaged kid. And I think I’ve known that all along.’ He shakes his head and breaks eye contact, staring back down at his hands.
More silence. Several moments stretching long between them. Finally, Max sighs. ‘Say something.’ Emotion straining his voice. Eyes welling with tears.
Michael continues to glare at Max. Not believing he has the audacity to cry. He tries to stand but it’s like he’s glued in place. And instead of his normal white hot rage, a calm coolness washes over him. Pooling in the bottom of his belly. Michael knows that feeling is hate. Pure, icy hatred. He’s not unfamiliar with the feeling - Jesse Manes, Kyle Valenti, Flint Manes, Noah Bracken. Sometimes the list seems endless.
‘Explain it better, Max. Make it make sense.’ Every word pushed through teeth clenched so tight he’s worried they’ll break.
The tension surges between them, the temperature palpably rising in the windowless bunker. Michael’s not sure he’ll hear anything Max says - not with the ferocious pounding in his head. Blood pumping through his veins like icy sludge.
‘All my nightmares as a kid - the times Isobel literally had to mind-walk me so I’d calm down. My obsession with the symbol - the way I’d doodle it over and over again in every notebook I ever owned. And then the tattoo.’ His voice cracks, high-pitched and frantic. ‘Now, with all that devil talk? Michael, I couldn’t have survived what you survived. I’d have killed more than some random pervert in the desert.’
Michael stalks towards him, fists raised. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? I was kicked around - slapped, beaten, burned. And that’s all supposed to be okay because you were safe? From yourself?’ A strangled noise rises from Michael’s throat. ‘I was never loved, Max. Not ever. Not once. All so you could be protected and loved, held tight by the perfect fucking family?’
He takes several steps forward, fisting the collar of Max’s jacket. The urge to wrap his hands around his brother’s throat throbbing in his fingers.
Max grips Michael’s wrists softly. ‘And yet, you are the most loving of the three of us. Of anyone I’ve ever met. And no that’s not fair, but it’s the goddamn truth.’ He pounds his fist on the table and Michael flinches, dropping his hands away and stepping back. Watching as Max’s tears finally crawl down his cheeks. ‘You’ve always had the most control - ever since we were kids.’ He throws his hands up in submission. ‘You’re not the murderer, Michael. I am. It always had to be this way.’
A manic sort of laughter overwhelms Michael. He can barely believe what he’s just heard. And by someone meant to love him. He turns his back to Max and moves as far away as he can. The rage inside him festering into something almost sentient. He closes his eyes and counts backwards from twenty - inhaling and exhaling around every number. Like Dr. Sampson had suggested whenever his anger tries to get the best of him.
Michael can choose to take back control. To let it all go. Even if the other person doesn’t deserve such kindness.
And it works, mostly. Some of his tension drains away and the weight on his chest subsides enough for him to breathe again. He’s still angry - still furious. But it’s a low, simmering heat now - not the numbing white hatred that had consumed him earlier. His head is spinning with this sudden rewrite of his life and there’s only one person he wants to talk to right now. And that person is certainly not Max Evans.
Michael slowly turns around and shakes his head at Max. ‘I need time. Maybe a lot of time.’ He needs Alex. ‘I miss my brother. I’ve missed my brother for a long time now. But the truth is, Max? I don’t recognize you anymore.’
Max nods. ‘I get that. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ He starts to walk away but stops with one foot on the ladder. ‘I won’t tell Isobel yet. To keep her out of your hair for a while. However long it takes for you to process all this.’
‘I’ll tell her when I’m ready, Max. You don’t have to keep making all the decisions and putting in all the work. We can’t be a family until we’re all on equal footing.’ He moves towards Max. Not necessarily because he wants to - because he doesn’t. Not right now, anyway. But he knows that some future version of himself will want this. That Max needs this and Isobel. Maybe even Liz. So, he wraps his arms around Max, quick and tight. One sharp clap on the back. ‘Maybe take a trip to California.’ He pulls back. ‘I hear it’s nice this time of year.’
Michael returns to his calculations and Max leaves, already planning the best route to California in his head.
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Could you write hcs of how the boys from Queen would react to your scars? I'm feeling real bad rn and idk.. you don't have to, obviously, but if you do, thanks!
A/N: So I’m not completely sure what type of scars you mean, but given some context clues I’m going to guess self harm scars? If not, let me know and I’ll rewrite this (don’t pay attention to requests being closed for this, if this isn’t what you wanted I’d be more than happy to redo it for you). Also, if anyone reading this is struggling with depression, self-harm, or any unpleasant thoughts along those lines, please seek some form of help and treatment. If you need someone to talk to and relate to, I’m here. I’m not a proper therapist, but I’ve been in therapy for years and am a good listener. But of course, if you can, seek help from a therapist. They can do a much better job than I can.
WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF HARM
Brian (Three years clean)
When Brian found out you used to harm yourself, it felt like his heart sank into his stomach
His eyes softened and welled as he took your hands in his, moving them to show your inner forearms
“Love, I can’t see them” he noted, squinting to see anything
“It’s been years and they were never that deep, but you can faintly see them if I point them out” You said, and he released your hands as you brought your right index finger to your left wrist and pointed to one
“This was my first, oldest yet most noticeable” You said, pointing out a pale line two inches down from the bottom of your hand
“Holy shit, I can see it… Y/N, love, why did you do this?” He asked, almost pleading as he brushed his calloused thumb over the faded scar, a lone tear escaping his eyes
“Brian, don’t worry about that, it’s all behind me, and I don’t really want to rehash that. I just… figured you should know this part of it, I guess”
“So you don’t want to do this?” He asked, wondering if he needed to be worried about you more than he already was
“No, oh God no! Brian, I’m pretty much over what happened to me. I’ve got coping mechanisms now that work, and my meds control the depression when I do have it. Trust me, babe, I’m fine.” You assured him, making sure he knew that you were doing much better than you were when you created those scars
“Okay, love. But you can talk to me about anything, okay? I am always here for you. Always.” He said, now holding your hands again and lightly shaking them for emphasis
“I know, Bri. Thank you.” You said, nodding your head as it hung, your forehead resting against his
“Any time. I love you.” He said, moving his head to an angle where his lips could reach yours to connect them in a sweet kiss
“I love you too” You replied once he pulled away, and he led you to the couch where you two spent the rest of the day cuddled up together
John (Six months clean, thoughts of relapsing)
When you and John met, it was autumn, so you had an excuse to constantly wear a hoodie
He figured you just got cold easily and never pushed it, and that whenever he tried to take things further and you wouldn’t take it off, he thought you just weren’t ready
And he never brought it up, wanting you to not feel pressured
But months passed, and it was the warmest day yet and there was no way you could survive the day in long sleeves, especially when he had planned a picnic in the park to celebrate the weather
So you figured it was best to tell him that day, and so you invited him inside your flat when he picked you up so you weren’t springing it on him in public
Especially since you were having some thoughts you haven’t had in a while and were planning on asking him for help, and you didn’t exactly want to cry in the park
You were wearing your hoodie, of course, and John was a bit confused, especially since your AC hadn’t been put in yet
“Dear, why are you wearing your hoodie inside?” He said, slightly chuckling as you led him to the couch
“Um, well I don’t normally, but I, uh, I need to tell you something.” You said, and he was concerned right away
“What is it? Have I done something wrong?” He asked, worried he had fucked things up with you
“No, no, John you haven’t done anything wrong. But, um, I did a while ago…” You trailed off, and he seemed confused about this but watched as you peeled off the cotton hoodie, slowly revealing the scars littering your arms
His eyes widened as he stared in disbelief, almost studying them as he looked at the reddened skin, some smooth, others the slightest bit scabbed over as they healed all these months later
“Wait, did you- did you do this to yourself?” He asked, his hand reaching out tentatively, wondering if he could touch them
Nodding, you gave him the okay to brush his fingers along your skin before responding
“Yeah, I um, I was in a really dark place, and this was my way to cope. I haven’t done it in half a year but…”
“But? But what, Y/N?” He asked, noticing the way your eyes seemed distant as you pondered what to say next
“But, um, I’ve been having some thoughts, and I’m kind of scared, John. I feel like I might relapse and I’m scared that I will, that I’ll fuck up six months of progress, that I’ll-” You rambled, but he cut you off, pulling you close into a tight hug, a few tears falling from your eyes and onto John’s t-shirt as he rubbed your back and soothed you
“You won’t. Not with me here to help you. Not with my love and support, not with the love and support of the guys. But if you do, that’s okay. Recovery isn’t perfect. But I will always be here, love, okay?” He said, and you nodded, sniffling a bit as he wiped away the tears from your cheeks
“Now, are you ready for that picnic?” He asked, and you chuckled as you got up with him and made your way to his car, without your hoodie.
Roger (Eight years clean)
“C’mon, love, we’re gonna be late!” He called to you in the bathroom from the bedroom
You were currently sat on the toilet just staring at your arm, squinting as you looked at the just barely present scars
“Love, what’re you doing-” he started, entering the bathroom
“What’s so special about that arm that you have to stare at it while you use the toilet?” He teased, walking closer before crouching next to you
“Oh, nothing, just let me wash my hands and we can go.” You said, rushing to stand up and pull up your underwear
“What’s going on? Why are you acting so strange?’ He asked, moving to stand behind you at the sink, his hands trailing down your arms from your shoulders, trying to gently move your forearms so he could see what was so interesting
“I don’t see anything, love. Have you finally gone mad?” He joked, smiling at you in the mirror
“Rog, don’t joke about that.” You warned, and his face turned into that of a confused puppy
“What’s going on with you?” He asked, and that was the straw that broke the camels back for you
“What’s going on is that I’m not a fan of when people use ableist slurs in their jokes, okay.”
“Ableist… what? Love all I’m saying is I don’t get why you were staring at your arm, no need to-”
“Rog, I have depression. You know this. ‘Mad’ is a term used against people with mental illness. I don’t like when it’s treated lightly.” You explained, though you were still all over the place to him.
“I don’t get how this explains your arm-”
“I used to cut myself, Roger.” You said, face blank and tone cold, your words shocking your fiancee into a state of shock
“Y-you, you what? Why did I never know this?” He asked, stepping towards you
“Because it’s a part of my past I’m not proud of. I did it, but I don’t like that I did it. I’ve been trying to suppress it, but I could still see the scars on my arm so I guess I just froze.” You explained, plopping down onto the bed with a huff
Roger just did the same, laying next to you at the edge with his legs hanging off the edge
“You know I love you, right?” He said, and you just dryly chuckled, taking his hand
“I do, Rog.”
“And you know I’d never intentionally say something to upset you, right?”
“I know, Rog.” You said, squeezing his hand in emphasis
“Wanna spend the night at home?” He suggested, his thumb reassuringly brushing your hand
“What about Freddie’s party? You know he’ll throw a fit next time he sees you if you don’t show tonight.”
“Well screw him, I want to spend the night alone with my girl and he’s just gonna have to deal with him. Besides, it’s been awhile since he’s been mad at me for something besides my drumming, so I guess I’m due for it.” He said, the two of you laughing as he pulled you into his side, your leg throwing itself over his waist to get as close as possible
But he soon adjusted to to lay at the top of the bed and dragged you with him, the two of you not caring to change out of your party clothes and opting to just cuddle and fall asleep like that.
Freddie (platonic) (Struggling to get clean)
Keeping secrets from best friends is always hard, but it’s even harder when your best friend is so good at reading people you’d think he’s a mind reader
He could tell your mood as soon as he saw you, so of course you couldn’t hide your depression
But luckily no matter what you wore he couldn’t see the scars on your upper thighs, all your jeans, dresses and skirts covering them
Until one day he wanted to catch his friends in candid moments with his new camera, and decided he wanted to give you a Marilyn Monroe moment, turning a fan on that made your skirt fly unexpectedly, giving Freddie the perfect view of fresh cuts from the night before
“Darling, where did you get those?” He asked, putting the camera down
“Oh, um, you know how my cats get-”
“Cats aren’t that persistent, dear, nor are their claws that wide. Now, care to tell me the truth?” He asked, sounding like a disappointed mother who just smelled booze on her child’s breath.
“I, um, well-” You started, not sure how to tell him
“I know you did this to yourself, though to be honest I din’t know why.” He said, alleviating some pressure from you
“I guess I just feel like I deserve it…” you said, looking down
“No one deserves that, and you know it. Only the most horrendous people do, like rapists and murderers, and you are neither, my dear.”
“I know, I just-”
“No need to explain, I understand that your depression gets the best of you. But now that I know how shitty it makes you treat yourself I’m gonna keep an eye on you. Every day, you’ll show me your thighs, and I’ll-”
“Fred, that’s not necessary-”
“Y/N, you are cutting yourself, it’s necessary. Why don’t you come live with me? That way I can-”
“I don’t need that, Freddie! I don’t need you hounding me and guilting me into stopping! What I do need, though, is your help and support in getting clean. Can you do that?” You asked, taking his hand
“Of course I can, darling. I just worry, you know. I don’t want to get a call from some hospital and think I didn’t do everything I could.” He said, tears ready to fall from his eyes
“You won’t, Freddie.” You assured, tears ready to fall from your eyes as well
“Now, I think I have another idea for a candid photo of you. Just, stay there.”
“Freddie, don’t-” You said, but it but then he already had the camera up to his face and was adjusting the exposure before taking the picture
The shot he had gotten was of you, sitting on the couch, hand up blocking your face, skirt of your dress pulled up, revealing you scars
“I think I might have an eye for edgy photography, love” He announced before going back to the couch to sit with you, where you just sat and talked for the rest of the day.
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#tw: self harm#tw: depression#brian may headcanon#brian may x reader#john deacon x reader#john deacon headcanon#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor headcanon#freddie mercury x reader#freddie mercury headcanon
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Rise Above, Chapter Nine - a Sofia the First Fanfiction
Rating: Teen
Tags: eventual Cedric/Sofia, Slow Burn, Canon Rewrite, Aged-Up Character(s), Teenage Cedric, Teenage Sofia
Summary: All her life, Sofia grew up in the village. She had a few close friends, an aquaintance she dearly called a friend whom she saw rarely, and a mother who loved her deeply. Sofia's life then changed completely when her mother married the King, making her the new princess of Enchancia. Everyone she's met so far has either told her that she was going to be the best thing to ever happen for this kingdom, or that she should forget about the kingdom completely and return to the village where she belongs. Sofia won't let any of that get to her, though. Everyone has expectations of her, and she's going to rise above them all. She's sure of it.
Chapter Summary: Sofia’s mother is getting married. It’s really happening. She’s getting married to the King, and Sofia is going to be living at the castle with the rest of the royal family... The thought of it fills her with dread. But Cedric knows this is exactly what Sofia needs.
Read on AO3, or under the cut! (Pst! Due to tumblr bull, there aren’t italics here!"Maybe it's not too late to run. You can stay at my house?" Ruby suggested. "You might have to sleep under the bed, though."
"I can't- I can't run. You haven't seen how happy Mom is, but I can't do this."
"You don't- Maybe you don't have to go and live in the castle?" Jade bit her lip, looking nervous. "You're almost 18 in a year, right? You can- You can stay here. Take over your guys' shop."
"Do you think Mom would be disappointed?" Sofia looked to her two best friends in the whole world. They wouldn't lie to her about something this serious.
"She..." Ruby and Jade shared a look before Ruby took Sofia's hand. "I think she would be upset you didn't give it a chance, but, I mean, it's your mom. She'd understand."
"She really is happy with him. I've been seeing them together. I've never seen her as happy as she is now."
"That doesn't mean you don't deserve to be happy," Jade said quietly. "There has to be a way you can both be happy, right? She can go there and you can stay here. There. Simple!"
"Nothing feels simple anymore. Not to mention I think I got in a fight with Cedric over nothing." That still hurt, thinking about Cedric's disappointed look when she had left the workshop that day.
"You got into a fight with Cedric- Hold on. You got into a fight ?"
"Well, an argument."
"Over what? You never get into fights with anyone!"
Sofia shook her head. "It's nothing, it was just something silly Cedric said, I don't think he even meant it-"
"Did he try to force you into anything? Do I need to go beat him up? You know I will, Sofia!"
"No. Cedric just- He said that, instead of Princess Amber, maybe I should be Queen." Sofia shook her head, giving them a weak smile. "Crazy, right?" The two paused, sharing another look before Ruby grinned weakly back at her.
"Yeah. Crazy."
Sofia gave a shake of her head. "I don't understand how he could ever think that."
"I mean... You’re going to be a princess. And you would be better than Amber. It's kind of a not so crazy leap?"
"It is completely crazy!" Why couldn't anyone see that?!
"You'd be a way better Queen than Amber ever would be!"
"Ruby! Jade! I don't even know anything about being a princess!"
"You can learn! Jeez, Sofia, you know all the old stories better than any of us, if anyone could become a princess and then Queen then it would be you ."
"But I can't." Sofia shook her head. "I can't! I'm just barely able to help Mom with everything!"
"But, I mean, Sofia, this is your chance to help all of Enchancia . Didn't you always kind of want to do that?"
"Well, sure, but-"
"But this is your chance. Cedric was right. If you want, I mean, you could... You could be Queen, Sofia."
"But I don't want to!"
"Then what do you want to do? Sure you like making shoes, but that's not what you really love, is it?"
"I like being down here. With all of you. All my friends. I'm not supposed to be up there."
"Well, I mean, there were a lot of famous, nice, amazing princesses that came from villages, too, you know. Maybe you're just going to be another one of them?"
"I don't think so." Sofia hugged her friends close. "I can't believe how fast this all is happening. Mom is getting married tomorrow."
"We'll be right here for you no matter what you decide, Sofia," Ruby said quietly, hugging her back just as tightly along with Jade. "Even if you want to run away and live as a shoemaker in the middle of the woods making shoes for animals and swamp monsters."
"Thanks."
::
Right. Just a wedding, nothing to worry about. Sofia had been to weddings before! Maybe not royal weddings... Maybe not royal weddings with her mother who was marrying the king- Okay. She was fine. Sofia only smiled at her mother, handing her the bouquet of flowers. "You look amazing."
"Oh, Sofia, we both do," Miranda laughed, pulling Sofia into a hug while trying to spare the flowers. "I can't believe this is really happening."
"Neither can I." She hugged her mother back tightly. "You're so happy."
"I am, yes. I'm really happy, Sofia." Mrianda's hand soothed through her hair. "How about you?"
Sofia's smile widened. "I'm happy that you're so happy."
"That's not a direct answer," Miranda laughed, pulling back to squeeze Sofia's hands. "I know it's been so busy, but... You'll be alright, won't you? It's changing so quickly."
"Mom, of course I'll be okay. I'm not a little girl, anymore."
"Oh, Sofia. You'll always be my little girl."
"Shouldn't you get ready to get married?"
" We should be getting ready," Miranda laughed, twirling Sofia around and still keeping the flowers between their laced fingers. "Everything is going to be wonderful, Sofia." Though Sofia giggled along with her mother, she never agreed. Just smiling seemed to be enough for now and that was... That was fine. Miranda was happy. Her mother was happy. Sofia was more than okay with something like that. Hearing the music start, Sofia took a breath.
"It's time." She could do this. She could smile for at least the rest of the day. That part was easy. Besides, her mother was so happy right now!
"Oh, Sofia." Miranda squeezed her hand, smile wide and bright. "I'm so happy you're here with me."
"So am I." Sofia held her hand tightly. And, right. She went out before her mother. "I'll see you out there."
Putting on a smile, Sofia pushed the doors open, trying to look as happy and delighted as possible. She was becoming a princess today, after all. She should be happy. Everyone expected her to be happy. Everyone wanted her to be happy, so... So she would be happy for them.
When seeing Amber, Sofia made sure to give an extra bright smile. One should always smile in the face of adversity, which, at this point, wasAmber's face. "Isn't everything so gorgeous?"
"Beautiful," Amber hummed, snapping her fan open before hiding a sour look behind it.
"I think you look amazing," Sofia said quietly.
"I do look rather good," Amber smirked, glancing to Sofia. "I suppose you're passable enough, as well."
Sofia sighed. "If we're going to be part of the same family, we need to get along."
"No, we need to pretend to get along and you need to stay out of my way. Simple enough, I think."
"That doesn't sound like it'll make your dad very happy."
"What Daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." Sofia refused to let herself frown, only smiling as she made her way towards the altar, and stood in the place she'd practiced to stand. Seeing Cedric off to the side with his wand, Sofia's smile brightened. Cedric gave her a grin in return, tilting his head as if to ask her if she was okay. Sofia showed him her smile as best she could before she turned to watch the King begin to walk up the altar.
This was good- Great. This was great. The kingdom was getting a new Queen, her mother was happy, and everyone was just happy. It was wonderful. The least Sofia could do was smile.
After the vows were said, and the two kissed, Sofia hugged her mother tightly before they processed down the walkway, again. She hadn't ever thought her own mom would ever love someone this much, again.
Sure everything was changing, but her mom was happy again and King Roland was a nice person and a good king. He looked to genuinely want them to be a part of his family. Cedric even made beautiful floating lights, and blooming flowers all over, and it was anything a girl from the village could have ever asked for. Truly, it was... It was perfect. Everything she could have ever wanted. She wasn't sure what she was doing to do after all of this, but for now she could smile and hug her mother back as she whispered how everything was going to change.
As people began to greet Sofia, she began to curtsey, but stopped as they laughed. That was odd. "Oh, Princess Sofia, you don't need to do that for people like us anymore. You're- You're a princess , after all."
"Oh, well... It's still polite, isn't it?" The women all giggled as if she had said something particularly funny.
"We're the ones who should be curtseying, Princess Sofia." Right. Princess.
"No no, it's alright, you really don't have to." The girls all giggled again, giving a little half curtsey before promising to talk to Sofia later and moving on to greet the new Queen. Sofia was rather certain they hadn't heard a word she said. Looking over, Sofia brightened. "Jade. Ruby."
"Sofia!" The two didn't bother to curtsey, only launching at her in a hug. It was the best moment all day, so far. Sofia hugged them both back.
"Have you seen Mom? She's so happy."
"Yeah. She looks like she can't stop grinning."
"Ecstatic is putting it lightly."
"I think she really loves him." Sofia looked at her mother, unable to stop her smile.
"Then I guess we sort of have to approve," Jade sighed. "But if we hear one bad word then we'll storm the castle ourselves!"
"Don't worry so much," she laughed, holding their hands. "You both look great."
"Of course we do," Jade sniffed, Ruby bursting into giggles beside her.
"Not as great as you do, though, Sofia."
"Oh, I don't think I'm all that much."
"Sofia, come on you're beautiful. You look... Well, you look like a princess."
"Thanks, you guys."
"How are you doing?" Ruby asked quietly. "You know... With today."
"I'm doing great. Can you believe it? I'm a princess."
"I thought you didn't want to be a princess?" Jade asked, eyebrows raising.
"Well... Maybe you were right. Maybe this can be a good thing."
"Oh, Sofia, that's so great to hear!" Ruby spun her around in a tight hug, the two near losing their balance as Ruby laughed. "You're going to do so much good for the kingdom!" Or maybe they were wrong and this was all going to be terrible.
Sofia smiled and hugged Ruby tightly. "Hey, have you seen the food table, yet?"
"Food?" Jade perked up, looking around. "Where?" Sofia laughed.
"Go on. It's right over there." Although, Sofia could stand to spend a bit of time with her friends before they had to say goodbye. Besides, at least this way her smile felt just a little less fake.
"You see that too, don't you?" Cedric asked softly. He had been pushed into getting ready to do the big 'presenting the royal family' magic event, but he couldn't take his eyes off Sofia.
"Yes," Wormwood said on his shoulder. "I see. She's putting on a front." Sofia was smiling, yes, but whenever she thought she was alone or wasn't being looked at...
"She looks devastated." There was no smile in sight when she thought she was alone.
"What are you going to do about it?"
"Me? What makes you think I can do anything about it?"
"I don't know. What makes you think she can be Queen?"
"Are you asking complicated questions just to be annoying?" Cedric huffed, batting a hand at Wormwood. "You know why she would make a good Queen."
"I also know why you can help her."
"Oh, please, do enlighten me. Why can I help her?"
"Because she trusts you, and cares for you, and you know this life better than any of her friends. You especially know of expectations others place upon you."
"That, Wormy, is fighting dirty," Cedric muttered, fiddling with his wand and waiting for his father's signal. "Don't distract me." Although, truthfully, Sofia was the one really distracting him.
"She's probably worrying over you and all your duties." Yes, see, things like that really were not helping at the moment when it came to concentrating.
"She should worry about herself."
"Yes," Wormwood said. "But she doesn't seem to do what she should."
"That, Wormwood, is probably the most truthful thing I've ever heard you say."
"So? What are you waiting for?"
"To not be surrounded by hundreds of people at an event neither of us want to be at, maybe?" Cedric shook his head sharply. "I'll see how she is when Da isn't keeping such a close watch on me."
"Here I thought you didn't have a care for what he thought." Just like that, Wormwood was flapping away- What was he doing? Why was he landing on Sofia's shoulder?
"Bloody bird," Cedric muttered, feeling a touch better when Sofia managed a smile, speaking softly to Wormwood and ruffling a few of his feathers. "Right. Big spell, smile, then escape." Looking up at the sky, Cedric pointed his wand and boldly shouted, " Prismatica! "
The gathered crow ooed and awed appropriately at the magical rainbow, Cedric suffering through Amber's surprise at his success and his father's glowing pride before he was able to slip away over to Sofia. "Cedric, that spell was so amazing. "
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it," Cedric smiled, the smile dropping after a moment. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing great. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You're not smiling."
"What? Yes I am."
"Well, no, it's more..." Cedric struggled to find the right words for a moment before he sighed, giving her an even look. "You're smiling but you don't mean it."
"Cedric... Everyone is so happy for Mom. They're so happy for me. "
"That doesn't mean you have to ignore your feelings and pretend that everything is okay. Have you told your mum how you feel?"
"Of course not, Cedric. Do you know how disappointed she would be?"
"And how will she feel when she finds out you were never happy with all of this?" Oh, dear, maybe that was pushing a step too far. Sofia frowned at that, drawing away from Cedric.
"She's not going to find out."
"Sofia, she's- Well, she's your mum. She'll eventually figure out you're not happy." Cedric paused, giving a nervous smile. "Unless you think you could be happy here eventually?"
"I don't know. I really don't think so, Cedric."
"I know you have problems with Amber, but is that the only reason you don't like it here? Or is it more than that?"
Sofia glanced back to her friends from the village. "I'm not going to get to see them as much anymore. We grew up together. Ruby lived across the street from me."
"They can still come up here and visit you, and you can go visit them." If missed friends was all, then that was easy to fix. "No one is banning you from going down to the village whenever you want."
"Maybe, but I don't know anything about being a princess."
"You can learn, though," Cedric pointed out carefully. Quietly. "I have a feeling you're good at adapting."
"That makes one of us."
"Well, here's something that might help you make up your mind." Looking to where Amber stood watching them, Cedric lowered his voice. "If you leave, she wins."
"Cedric, I'm not a fighter. I really don't care if she wins." Feeling more than a bit hopeless, Cedric looked to Wormwood. They needed Sofia to want to do this or else Enchancia really might be doomed. "Thanks for trying to help, Cedric."
"Bring up the fact that if Amber becomes Queen, her precious little villagers might not be so safe anymore," Wormwood instructed, Cedric flicking his gaze back to Sofia.
"Sofia, I... I know this isn't your fight and that you didn't ask to deal with this, but you have a chance to stop Amber. If she becomes Queen then all she'll want to do is throw parties and have fun. Important situations will be ignored and knowing her, she'll probably raise the taxes."
"And what do-" Sofia took a deep breath. "We shouldn't be talking about this. Not here. Not now." She did have a point.
"Then at least stick around until we can talk about it?" If this was the only chance he would be getting, he wasn't about to waste it.
"I kind of have to. I live here, now."
"Right- Right. Of course you do." Cedric cleared his throat, ignoring Wormwood's look that he was an idiot. "Feel free to keep Wormy with you for awhile, if you want to."
"Is that alright with Wormy?"
"You dreadful boy," Wormwood muttered, ruffling his wings and settling down more. "I'll see to it that she keeps out of too much trouble."
"Perfectly fine."
"Thanks, Cedric."
"Anytime, Sofia."
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Character Sheet
This is the last one of my DC characters that I’ve revised and I really like the amount of detail I put back into this character. I hope to start writing her story soon, but I’ll have to thank @incorrectbatfamiliaquotes once again for all her help because if it wasn’t for her, I don’t think I’d even consider rewriting any of these.
_____________________________________________________
Full Name: Ashton Poppy Nazari
Nickname: Ash
Ethnicity: Arabic and German (Her father was Arabic and her mother was German)
Birthday: November 13, 2000
Age: 18
Zodiac Sign: Scorpio
Basic Personality: Ash would describe herself as a rebel with a heart of gold, which is mostly true. She’s kind and cares a lot about other people, but often forgets that not everyone thinks as quickly as she does. Quick to start an argument, or physical fight, to defend what she believes is right. Ash likes to move around; she constantly taps her foot or drums her fingers against things. She’s scary intelligent, and may be a better detective than Tim Drake.
Deeper Personality:
Aggressive: Ash refuses to leave well enough alone and it gets her into trouble at the orphanage and with foster parents. Starts fights with other kids, and usually wins, due to her background in boxing. She wouldn’t describe herself as aggressive, but others would.
Outspoken: She’s a hardcore feminist, to the point that others can recite her speeches from memory. Ash believes that her body is her own to control, her sexuality is valid, and that LGBTQ people deserve the same rights and opportunists that cishet people are allowed to have.
Hyper: Ashton likes to move around a lot. She got in trouble a lot in school for tapping her feet and drumming her fingers against her desk. Ash also gets distracted a lot, but once focused, she’ll rarely drop whatever she’s interested in.
Best Friend: Jonathan Kent
Her and Jon met while she lived in Metropolis. She saved him from making a complete fool of himself by tripping and spilling milk on the school bully. Jon loves her to death and once harbored a small crush on her, but grew out of it fairly quickly. They kept in touch over the years and are still great friends to this day.
Family: Unknown to her, however, as the author, I can tell you that they were involved in the League of Assassins and were killed because they didn’t want to raise Ashton in such a harsh environment. They desperately wanted her to have a normal life. They worked for the League because they were forced to; they had no choice. When they saw a chance to escape, they took it but at a harsh consequence of Ashton growing up without parents. Ra’s, as a way to try and keep them under his control, wanted to marry Ash off to Damian when they came of age. Talia thought it would be a wonderful match and Ashton’s parents knew that it was just another way to control them, prompting them to plan their escape in secret. Talia was the one to kill them.
Love Life: Ashton likes to date, but not seriously. She’s not one to be tied down. Ash identifies as bisexual but leans more towards guys than girls. Her last relationship ended pretty badly, and it left her with a black eye. She now knows to not trust Gotham street rats.
Political Viewpoint: Ash is very liberal, but also knows that people are allowed to have different opinions to her own. That doesn’t stop her from starting fights though.
Basic Description: Ashton is pretty but in an unusual way. Her features are large but somehow delicate. Ash has heterochromia, with one green eye and one brown eye. Her hair is cut short and is dark brown, with honey blonde highlights. She has freckles and moles everywhere. Jon always used to joke that its because the sun is in love with her. Her hair never gets longer than shoulder length because it bothers her if it’s too long. Ash isn’t tall, but she isn’t short either. She’s curvy and has thighs that would Jason Todd to shame. Muscular without being boxy; she used to box a lot in her spare time. She has a lot of piercings; her earlobes are pierced twice each and in her right ear, her cartilage is pierced too. Her nose is also pierced and she typically wears a stud in it. Ash has a few tattoos, all of which were saved up for and paid for with her own money from working jobs in coffee houses or babysitting. On her calf, she has an electric blue skeleton that is skateboarding and wearing a Hawaiian shirt. She has a blue and purple hummingbird on her left shoulder and a bat hanging upside down beneath her boobs. (We stan a tattooed queen in this house.)
Short Term Goals: Ash just wants to have a nice summer and to not worry about the future for a few months.
Long Term Goals: Ashton is determined to become a music teacher and find a home to settle down in. She isn’t sure if she’d want to get married or even have kids, but likes to think about her future quite often.
Favorite Outfit: Ash’s dress sense depends on the day, but her favorite outfit is a vintage Queen shirt paired with ripped mom jeans, which have fishnets underneath them, and clunky boots she found at a thrift store.
Favorite Song: Black Sheep by The Clash at Demonhead
Hobbies: Ash enjoys a number of things. She used to box a lot, and knows a lot of self defense that she taught to girls in the orphanage before she left. Ashton can play the guitar and sings a little. She’ll occasionally write her own songs, but prefers to not share them with anyone.
Favorite Candy: She’s partial to dark chocolate Crunch Bars or Peeps, but only the pink ones (the yellow ones don’t taste the same)
Favorite Drink: Ashton loves frozen hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel drizzle; she has a sweet tooth like no other.
Fatal Flaw: She hates opening up to other people about her feelings. She’ll tell you her opinion in a heartbeat but when she’s feeling sad, she’ll refuse to talk to people.
Habits: Ashton chews on her nails. They’re rarely longer than where her finger is and finds it easier to not chew them if they aren’t long.
Favorite Color: She’s partial to blood red and black.
Favorite Food: Vegetarian zucchini lasagna is her absolute favorite. Ash is vegetarian and loves to experiment with food. This is one of her favorite recipes that she’s tried in the past few years.
Fears: Ash is afraid of snakes and dark holes. She has nightmares of being thrown into the sea from a ship in the night. Ash is terrified that people will get to know the real her and leave anyways.
Life Motto: Be the woman who fixes another woman’s crown without telling the world it was crooked.
Favorite Movie: A Knight’s Tale because it’s awesome.
Weird Talent: She’s managed to figure out a good portion of superheroes secret identities by doing basic detective work. It’s one of her favorite things to surprise Jon with.
“Hey, I know who Kid Flash is.”
“No you don’t.”
“Dude, it’s obviously Bart Allen, I’m not dumb.”
*Surprised Pikachu face*
Role Model: Batgirl, otherwise known as Stephanie Brown. Ash admires her strength and resilience. Coming back after a pregnancy must have been one of the hardest things in the world. Plus, she has to put up with Tim Drake, which means she’s an amazing person with a great temperament.
Religion: Ash is agnostic and doesn’t enjoy going to church.
Prized Possession: When Ashton found her way into her first orphanage, she came with a small golden locket that doesn’t open but is engraved with what she believes to be her parents initials.
#ashtonnazari#original character#she's my little punk rock child#a sweet baby#old character new story
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Interview Your Muses as You
Credit for this meme goes to @celeritassagittae with the original prompt here. Thank you for taking the time to throw this together.
“Since you’re writing yourself here, feel free to add or drop questions, rewrite them, or tweak them to fit your voice! If the interview canters off into the sunset and leaves these questions in the dust, my work here is complete.”
An interview with my *pair* of muses Lucia and Alistair. This was very fun, and I am tagging anyone who would like to do it! Just @ me so I can read what you come up with. :D
Hey there! What is your name - er well your names?
Lucia (L): I’m assuming that asking is a formality since you literally just typed it.
Alistair (A): I don’t know why you’re talking to her. She’s a bad person.
L: He’s not wrong, you know.
Awh. You all are too cute.... anyway....How old are you?
L: Technically, I’ve only existed for three years, but you told me I was born in 9:12 Dragon, so however old that makes me in whatever tale you choose to tell this week would be the answer.
A:*crosses arms and glares*
L: *Elbows him*
A: Ow! And here I thought we were on the same side. “Don’t worry Alistair,” you said. Pffft. Whatever. I’m two years older than Luce at any given time.
Alistair, is there some kind of issue?
A: There is and you know it.
Still mad at me about that l-
A: Yes.
L: I’m honestly a little bit angry with you myself... if we’re being honest here.
I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I really am, but it’ll be worth it! You’ll see.
A: Wait, what do you mean “you’ll see”?
L: Yes. Are you privy to some information that we aren’t?
I do have meta-knowledge. I’m kind of responsible for at least some of your adventures, like - wait, shit. Damn.
L: Well, now you have to tell us.
A: She won’t, and you know she won’t. She *never* tells us anything. We’re just characters in her sick little game.
L: We should give her a chance, at least. I mean... she’s also responsible for a lot of our happiness too, if what she’s saying is correct.
A: *Sighs* Fine.
I’m sorry, but it seems like you guys were already on to me. The whole point of this meme is to, well... talk it out. I’m not sure why I thought this would be a good idea.
But anyway, onward with the interview! If you could be any kind of mineral, what would you *looks down at index card, and tosses it before laughing nervously.* You don’t have to answer that. I honestly have no clue what I’m doing.
A: The first thing you’ve said that I’ll agree with.
L: *Elbows him*
A: What? She deserves it.
L: *Glares*
Oh, this is a good one! And it’s not on an incendiary topic. Let’s do it: What’s your favorite holiday and why?
L&A in unison: Wintersend
What is your dream job?
A: I wasn’t exactly given the option to choose for myself, but growing up I always wanted to be a mabari trainer. I loved the dogs, and they seemed to like me, too. *Shrug*
So not king then?
A: Ha- no. Not king.
What about you, Luce?
L: Ignoring your informality, I don’t really know. I know that I never really wanted to be a mage, but then again who does? I really enjoyed working as Queen Anora’s court mage and adviser.
What do you consider to be each other’s best quality.
A: Lucia is, well, do I have to pick one?
Yes.
A:In that case.. bravery.
L: Really?
A: Mhm. I’ve never met someone who is as fearless as Luce is, no matter what she is facing. I admire her strength and ability to make tough decisions when nobody else can...even if I don’t always agree with her.
L: I... thank you. *clears throat* Alistair’s best quality is his gentleness. The world is unforgiving, and it often mandates that someone ‘toughen up.’ Alistair has been through a lot and has managed to stay soft in spite of the hard life he was given. There aren’t enough soft people.
While we’re on the topic of things that will make me cry. Anything you regret doing?
L: I regret a lot of the things I did in the name of “Duty.” I shouldn’t have let Jowan sacrifice Isolde. I shouldn’t have agreed to Morrigan’s ritual, I-
A: Luce. You did what you had to.
L: I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t regret it.
A: I regret treating Morrigan the way I did. Sure, I don’t like her, but I really did push it. Calling her a bitch was not one of my finer moments. It was rather, um, out of character.
You should write David Gaider a strongly worded letter then.
A: Who?
Nobody. AHEM Anywayyyyy....What is the one story in your life that you don’t want me to tell?
A: *whispers* I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t tell the one where Zevran taught me to dance. You know... the one?
Oh...uh... well you see I may or may not have already told that one.
A: Just when I was starting to like you, too.
L: I have a request.
Shoot.
L: No tales of my time at the Circle Tower before I was conscripted.
Vetoed.
L: If you are going to write them anyway, why do you ask?
Curiosity!
A: See, she’s evil!
Finnneeee. What is the story that you want me to tell next?
L: Considering the fact that the last story you told of us was the one where I left for Amaranthine, it’s only fair that the next story you tell be about my return.
A: Oh! I like that one. I agree.
I think you all are on to something there... Now, what shall I ask next.
Make me a drink! No, not a–a figurative drink. Describe what sort of drink you would serve me.
L: An antidote.
Why?
L: Because Alistair’s answer is going to be poison.
A: *nods*
Well then. I see how it is. I am going to pretend to not be hurt and ask you this: If you could could have one thing in your life that’s beyond your control changed for you, what would it be?
L: I think that I would ask to not be born with magic. It’s caused me nothing but trouble.
A: I would want to have gotten the chance to know my parents.
What’s the best thing that ever happened to you?
A & L in unison: Ash.
Ash is my doing, so see! I’m not entirely twisted.
A: That’s fair.
Let’s say I give you one “save point�� – you use it, and you can “reload” to that point, exactly once, at any point while you’re still alive. What do you do with it?
A: That’s easy. I would use it to go back to Ostagar, right at the moment when I just finished pestering some grumpy mage.
L: Ostagar? Really? You would want to go through that again?
A: There were a lot of awful things that happened after that I’d relive... if it meant I could fall in love with you all over again.
L: I... there. I can’t answer after that. I refuse.
Damn. I don’t even know if I can follow that, really. I guess I’ll end with one last question. There are people reading about your tales that really look up to you. Are there any words of advice or encouragement you’d like to offer them?
L: Don’t be afraid to stand up for what you believe is right just because others disagree with you. Doing what is right is rarely popular and never easy.
A: What she said.
#dragon age#dragon age origins#lucia amell#alistair theirin#muses#allison does memes#celeritassagittae
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So I meant to post this yesterday, but honestly, I felt like hell, so I left it until I could have the energy to at least get to splitting this next wip into parts.
This is...sort of an older one? I’ve added onto it semi-recently, but it’s kind of aged. I used parts of it for inspiration in other fics I’ve published since, and I don’t feel like rewriting those parts, so there might be some familiarity.
It’s also a wip I wrote as a sort of...form of escapism? I mean, to some extent, I put bits and pieces of myself in my fics and play things out in another world, and that’s cool, but this one was more cathartic in purpose, more direct in what I projected into it and wrote it for. I’ve got a decently long history of people who were supposed to care about me ending up hurting me, and never feeling like they did anything wrong, blaming me for being hurt, continuing to hurt me, etc.
Sometimes I think about what it could be like, if someone who caused harm like that cared enough to listen, and learn, and become safer. Not just for those they harmed, but others related to that harm. A bit of escapism, a fantasy of sorts, to imagine that sort of situation, where someone who caused harm could turn things around and become better, safer for the person they harmed, to care about their wellbeing, to care about causing harm. And because I can’t help but write romance, it’s also that, and a bed-sharing fic, and a bunch of other fluff.
I touched on that theme a bit in ‘Looking for the Magic’, and that theme continues here. I started both stories around the same time, not having been sure which route I wanted to approach the theme through. Ultimately, I ended up kind of writing both, even if each has their own differences in ways. So not much in the way of new themes and ideas here, mostly this one was just used to help me emotionally process during a rough period. Still, I may as well air it out, since it served its purpose, and it’s still a WIP.
Content Warning: transmisogyny, transmisogynistic slurs, transphobia
Part 1 below (I’ll post more later today)
"You've got to be kidding me with this, Lexa!" Anya seethed, knowing she was making a bit of a scene, but there was no way she was going to let the injustice stand. "You can't pair me with her!"
Lexa reached out to hug her, or maybe rest a hand on her shoulder, but she stepped away in time to deny the effort. "You know what happened last year. We had to take more rooms and stop cramming everyone into two or three. This is how the draw played out."
"Well the draw was useless! How am I going to get any sleep?!" Anya demanded to know, looking at the details of her lodgings.
Lexa had booked her a room with a single queen-sized bed. Most of the others had two beds, but hers only had one, and that created endlessly more problems than rooming her with Clarke Griffin did on its own.
"It's a big bed. You're both eighteen. Maybe it's time to get over your grudge, Anya." Lexa asserted, only stoking the fires inside of her, even if it'd amount to nothing without someone she could take it out on.
"I do not think about Clarke Griffin. I do not care about Clarke Griffin. But I will not sleep in the same bed as her, and you know why!" She countered, bracing herself as Lexa's face contorted in frustration, her cousin taking in a deep breath.
"She's not who she used to be." Lexa insisted, setting her with a firm stare. "And Clarke's had some recent troubles of her own, so be nice. It's two nights. Just collapse onto the bed first and stop worrying about it."
If only she could.
Fact was, this convention trip was what she looked forward to the most each year, and now not only did she have to spend a large portion of it with someone she couldn't trust, but her favourite actresses had pulled out last minute due to illness, automatically making it the worst Polis Comic-Con in years.
Luckily, nothing good or important had been planned for Friday evening, so their late-ish arrival hadn't cost them much of anything opportunity-wise. "Just give me my key card, Lexa."
It didn't take long to find her room once she had the card, taking the elevator to the eighth floor and easily finding the fourteenth room. It was as small as expected, with a tiny bathroom that had more of a shower stall than a regulation bathtub, and a main room with a large bed and a dresser and not much else.
Deciding to be a little spiteful, she unpacked most of her things into the top half of the dresser, knowing that when the other vehicles arrived, Clarke would be left with the less convenient drawers. It wasn't much, but it was something of an outlet for her anger, so maybe she felt a little better.
At least until the door opened and Clarke slipped in with her luggage.
"Are we gonna have a problem?" Clarke asked, sounding halfway exhausted as she set her luggage down.
"Are you sleeping on the bed?" Anya shot back.
"Yeah. Obviously." Clarke stated, face twisting a little in confusion.
"Then yeah. I'm setting up in the bathroom." Anya asserted, taking hold of the sheets and yanking them off the bed, figuring if Clarke can have a comfy mattress, then she could at least have the sheets.
"What the f...okay, wait. You and I both know the bathroom floors here are gross and tacky to keep people from slipping. Just...come on. The bed's big." Clarke argued, but there was just no way.
Anya shook her head. "This trip's already a mess for me. Sleeping on the floor won't make it any worse."
At least, she hoped it wouldn't. Her back injury from a few months ago could certainly flare up, but Anya was willing to take that risk.
"I don't understand why you have to be such a child around me. You don't have to like me, but you don't have to sleep on the damn floor. I don't know why you don't like me, maybe I'm not as pretty and perfect as you, but I'm not a damned leper. It's not like I have some infectious disease." Clarke muttered, letting out a frustrated sigh as she blocked entrance to the bathroom, as if Clarke had the right to essentially call her a shallow, vain misogynist and then feel upset about Anya's hostility. "Put the covers back on the damn bed."
"Not happening. Now get out of the way." Anya stepped up, standing firm in Clarke's bubble of personal space, holding eye contact. She'd long since promised she wouldn't hurt Lexa's friends, but she'd promised nothing about intimidation. Even if Clarke smelled really nice, even if she hated putting on an act of fierceness, she had to put up a fight, had to show she took it seriously and was not happy to be sharing space with the girl.
Clarke's deep blue eyes shifted focus across her face, as if searching for an answer to some unspoken question. When Clarke let out a tired sigh, she took it that the girl hadn't found one. "What is wrong with you?" Clarke whispered in disbelief before giving her head a shake. "Just...wait here. I'll be back in a half hour."
Anya barely had time to blink before the door was open and Clarke was marching out.
Whatever Clarke's reasons, Anya felt pretty content with another thirty minutes of solitude. She'd take her wins where she could.
Anya had just started to feel relaxed, splayed out on the mattress, when the door to the hotel room opened again maybe forty-five minutes later. She'd hoped that maybe Clarke had found some other lodgings, but feeling a few large and light objects dropped on her legs stole that calm from her, forcing her to a seated position to defend herself.
Some of that edge fell away once she recognized what Clarke had tossed onto her, even if some of that anger was only replaced with equal parts confusion.
"Sleeping bag and a pillow. Lay down these towels, and you should be able to avoid dealing with the sticky shit." Clarke stated, tired eyes staring right at her, as if challenging her to object to or refuse the offer.
She wouldn't, but she wasn't about to kiss the girl's feet for being half-decent for once. "Fine." She noted, deciding that was all the response she needed to offer. Anya rolled off the bed and picked up the covers, quickly setting them back onto the bed and tucking them in.
"Why are you like this?" Clarke asked, flopping down onto the bed with an exhausted huff.
"Don't ask stupid questions." Anya scoffed, grabbing up the items and heading towards the bathroom.
"I'm serious. Why do you hate me?" Clarke asked, stilling Anya in place at the entrance to her new sleeping quarters for the night.
Honestly, she'd operated under the notion that Clarke was at least self-aware, but maybe that had been expecting too much. "There comes a point where you're responsible for your actions, Clarke. You're bi...you ran the school's GSA. If you can't piece together how you fucked up, then that only damns you more." She answered, feeling a slight bit of tension in her chest as Clarke's face fell, features contorted in a heavy mix of confusion and remorse. She shook her head, hoping but failing to shake off the sensation. "Goodnight, Clarke."
Anya stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, needing to feel safe, needing to create distance, needing to stop making other people's issues her problem, especially when those issues were caused by hurting her. She wouldn't baby Clarke through their shared history. She wouldn't feel bad for pointing out that the other blonde had hurt her. She deserved to be angry and hostile.
Feeling a little better, Anya laid out the towels and created a narrow but decent enough sleeping space to set up her sleeping bag on. It would have been a long night either way, but maybe now it could be a little better.
Didn't mean they were anywhere close to even, but a sleeping bag was better than some thin sheets, and maybe enough to stem some of her anger. Certainly not all, but a little bit.
Anya woke to a sharp pain in her back, the searing sensation stealing any sound from her throat as she rolled onto her side and rode out the wave of agony. Despite her hopes, the minimal cushioning of the towels and sleeping bag couldn't negate the dangers of sleeping on a hard unforgiving surface; Anya waited until she could breathe steadily again before unzipping the sleeping bag and getting to her feet, deciding she had over half a day to figure out her sleeping problem.
A glance at her phone told her it was a little after six, which was less than an hour before she would have gotten up anyways, so she packed everything up again, stashed it on the towel rack, took some Tylenol, and got to washing up in prep for the day.
Freshly showered, Anya wrapped herself in a towel and quietly padded out to the main room to grab some clothes, wishing she'd been mindful enough the previous night to stash some in the bathroom. She was just pushing the top drawer shut when she heard the rustle of sheets behind her.
"Anya? What're you doin' up?" Clarke slurred sleepily, the mattress creaking underneath her as Anya imagined the girl had sat up. "It's still way early."
"Getting breakfast." She answered simply, rolling her eyes as she heard the mattress creak again, bringing her to turn around and spot Clarke trying to get out of bed. "No, you idiot. You were exhausted last night. Get some more sleep, events don't start for another three and a half hours."
"Yeah, well good job with that, dropping a bomb on me last night and all. Barely slept." Clarke grunted, slipping out of bed, staggering on her feet for a moment before she found some semblance of balance. "Besides, I'm hungry."
Anya cursed herself internally for not just staying quiet, getting what she needed, and marching out when she had the chance. "I'm not waiting for you." She shot back, heading back into the bathroom to change as quickly as she could and get a solid tuck into place for at least the first part of the day.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Clarke was there, wearing leggings, an oversized sweater, and sunglasses, hair done up in a messy topknot. How Clarke managed to look stunning while clearly tired as all hell, Anya would never know, but apparently she would have to put up with Griffin for a little while longer.
"Go to the washroom. You don't want to use the one at the diner, sometimes they don't get around to cleaning the previous day's mess before the breakfast rush." Anya spoke, slipping past Clarke and opening the door to their hotel room. She wasn't going to wait, of course she wouldn't, but it was too early in the morning for spite to motivate her into moving faster as she made her way to the elevator, not to mention the ever-present back pain shooting up her spine with each step.
By the time she reached the elevator, she could hear jogging behind her, Clarke joining her inside of it just before the doors went to close.
"So what are we having for breakfast?" Clarke asked, sounding artificially chipper, as if Anya couldn't hear how groggy the girl was.
"You should be in bed." Anya noted as they descended to the main floor, trying to figure out how to handle Griffin tagging along for breakfast, and hoping it wouldn't be as frustrating and aggravating an experience as she expected.
"What are you, my mother? Besides, you're up." Clarke countered quickly, body leaning up against the railing in a way that didn't quite hide the other blonde's exhaustion.
"I'm an early riser. You're known for sleeping in closer to noon when given the opportunity." Anya rolled her eyes at the sleepy girl, thrilled when the elevator door opened and let her out, giving even a shred of possibility that Clarke would elect to wait inside and take it back upstairs.
She had no such luck. "Okay, it's super creepy that you know that." Clarke insisted, the clap of her sandals following Anya out of the hotel.
"You go to the parties Lexa and Costia host. I wake up early, make breakfast, and help with the cleanup. I notice which people sleep in and which don't." Anya explained, rolling her eyes again at the annoyed huff from behind her. "And don't think for a second that I care or am judging you for that. I don't give a crap. I just know you should be asleep, and that you're choosing instead to intrude on my breakfast."
The diner had always been her place to eat in the mornings when Comic-Con came around. Lexa and Costia would usually just grab something at Starbucks, but she kind of liked having a real breakfast, not just a coffee and a bagel like some would get. And since it wasn't the most popular place that early in the morning, she'd more or less have her choice of seating.
Usually, she'd just grab a small table, not wanting to take up much space, but once inside the restaurant's familiar walls, she made her way to a vacant booth, having some hope that the comfier seating could entice Clarke to return to bed after the meal.
Clarke plopped down hard onto the booth seating across from her and shuffled closer to the window, resting her head against it with a sleepy frown. "You know, I'd sleep a lot easier knowing why you hate me."
"And if I have to spell it all out for you, then you wouldn't understand anyways. We don't have to have some cliché heart to heart when it's pretty clear that we're at two different levels here. We don't have to reconcile. It doesn't matter." Anya answered, slumping back into her seat, arms crossing her chest.
"It does matter." Clarke asserted, taking off her sunglasses and putting them on their table. "Does it look like I slept last night?"
"So you felt too guilty to sleep. All that tells me is you're really uncomfortable with anyone thinking you might be a bad person. Newsflash, Griffin...you and your friends made people feel like shit all the time. Sorry if I don't buy your 'woe is me' act, given you still have no clue despite me literally sitting right here." Anya argued, willing her anger to sift back beneath the surface as the waitress approached.
"Hey there, ladies. Can I get you anything to drink to start with this morning?" The waitress asked a little cautiously, handing them both a menu, eyes flitting between her and Clarke as if to gauge if there was any trouble there.
Anya turned her full focus to the waitress, sending her a smile that seemed to ease the woman's slight apprehension. "Orange juice would be lovely, thank you."
"Chocolate milk sounds amazing. I'll have that, please." Clarke added, the waitress writing down the information and heading off, leaving them alone again for the moment. Clarke of course, just couldn't let the issue stand, fixing her focus on Anya again. "That's not fair. I think I'd remember if I said or did something hurtful to Asian women, Anya."
Anya had to fight the urge to face-palm, even if she immediately found herself more frustrated than she had been in some time. "You really need to stop beating around the bush, Griffin. This isn't about race or ethnicity and you know it. Rub some brain cells together for once and think. You made valedictorian, you're capable of basic deductive reasoning." Anya let out in a harsh whisper, feeling a pit form in her stomach at the pained wince Clarke gave at her words, at the way those blue eyes started to shimmer. "Don't you fucking start crying, Clarke."
"I'm just so tired. And I don't know. I don't know. Like, two years ago, Lexa told me about something lesbophobic that I said, and I haven't said anything like that since, I worked hard to think about it differently and unlearn the bullshit I used to think, so I just...I don't know." Clarke complained, voice cracking as the girl slumped forward against the table.
Anya wasn't sure whether she wanted to just explode and leave this plane of existence, or ream Clarke out over her supreme lack of attention to detail, or just try to work out the mystery of Clarke being so oblivious that she couldn't even think back a few years.
Not wanting to make a scene, and not wanting the situation to escalate even further, knowing full well her weakness for crying people, Anya reached out and took hold of Clarke's nearest hand. She wasn't gentle, she didn't tenderly graze a thumb over Clarke's knuckles or offer any such comforting gesture. No, she knew Clarke was a sucker for physical touch, and so long as she was holding her hand, so long as the potential for affection was so near, she'd have the other girl's attention.
"Take deep breaths. Look at the menu. Find something to eat. Think about all the fun things you and your friends will get up to today. Focus on that. Worry about me later." Anya stated slowly and calmly, annoyed that she was pushed to coddle her a bit, but it'd be worth it if she could still have and enjoy her breakfast in relative peace.
Yet, there was something in Clarke's eyes that told her that maybe she didn't have a full read on the other girl's issues. So when Clarke's head ducked away, maybe she brought out the big guns and let her thumb graze across the top of Clarke's knuckles. Maybe the mix of shock and hope on Clarke's face told her more than she expected.
"Lexa had you room with me for a reason, didn't she?" She asked, a few ideas floating around in her head that she wanted confirmation on before proceeding. She'd definitely need to sit Lexa down for a talk today, but for now, she needed details.
Clarke gave a silent nod, eyes falling shut and leaving a slight ring of wetness around the edges, officially sending Anya's heart into a twisting mess. Whether it was good method acting or legitimate, she couldn't say, but her maternal instincts were already kicking in.
Anya hadn't noticed the waitress approach, so the sight and sound of her orange juice being set down in front of her had her body jolting a little. Clarke, however, didn't even respond, just looking entirely sad and exhausted.
"Are you two ladies ready to order yet, or do you need a little more time?" The waitress, Niylah, asked, concerned eyes shifting between the both of them.
Anya fixed her focus on Clarke for a moment, already knowing her order. "Clarke, do you have an idea of what you want?" She asked, watching and waiting for a response, but Clarke remained silent. The girl had told her she was hungry earlier, so she decided to take her at her word, and use her past knowledge of Clarke to her advantage. In a worst case scenario, Clarke wouldn't like it, and they could stop at the Starbucks on the way back, anyways. Anya turned her focus to the waitress. "Can we get an order of the apple crisp pancakes, the cinnamon bun pancakes, and two fresh fruit cups on the side, please?"
Their waitress offered a nod and hurried off to another table, the morning rush starting up in some form.
"I don't understand...what, are you trying to soften me up? Get me to crack? I thought you didn't want a heart to heart." Clarke murmured, her words barely audible above the din of the diner.
Anya scoffed at the assertion. "I don't. But I'm not incapacitated, Clarke...I can tell when someone's hurting. I don't have to like you to want to minimize that, and I know you indulge your sweet tooth when you're feeling down." She answered, knowing some parts were a white lie, but Clarke didn't need to know that crying turned her to putty.
"It's totally unfair that you apparently know everything about me and I know nothing about you." Clarke let out with a frustrated huff, wet eyes finally opening again, even if they didn't meet Anya's.
"I find it hard to believe you haven't picked up something over the years. We've been sharing classes and schools since grade two." Anya noted offhandedly, figuring Clarke was exaggerating out of discomfort, but the immediate degree of wary disbelief on the other girl's face unnerved her and had her wondering if Clarke really was even more oblivious than she thought possible. "You...are aware that we spent elementary together, at least?"
Clarke's eyes narrowed. "I think I would have remembered you."
Anya pulled her hand away from Clarke and leaned back, feeling her mind fall apart bit by bit. "You at least remember when I came out at the end of middle school?"
Clarke recoiled as if stung, and even if the reaction last just a moment, there was a lingering sadness in Clarke's eyes. "I...I spent half of my last year of middle school at home after my father died."
She wanted to smash her face with a waffle iron for forgetting that vital detail of Clarke's history. Usually she didn't flub that hard. "I'm sorry, it slipped my mind, my apologies." Anya offered, earning a quick nod from the other girl.
"Thanks. Anyways, yeah, I didn't catch you when you transferred in. I only saw you in high school." Clarke stated, only furthering Anya's confusion, because she hadn't transferred anywhere.
And yet, it all made a twisted sort of sense, if she considered Clarke's popularity growing up, her relative obscurity, and the potential effects of alcohol consumption. Suddenly, Anya finally had a reason for why Clarke seemed so entirely off the mark, even if it still wasn't excusable. And really, if Lexa truly wanted her to spend time with Clarke, then she begrudgingly would, but Clarke would have to owe her for her openness, and Lexa would have a serious debt to pay. "You definitely saw me before, but yeah, your first time seeing me after I came out was the start of high school. You know, as a trans girl and all."
Clarke's eyes bugged out, a deep red blush tinting her cheeks as her hand fumbled to find her glass of milk.
Anya dug around in her bag and pulled out one of the gag gifts Lexa had given her long ago, pushing the big purple swirly straw across to Clarke. "So you don't spill any." She said dismissively when Clarke shot her a curious stare. "While it's ridiculous that I can mentally recall six times you were explicitly told I was a trans girl, and that information apparently never got digested despite most of the school knowing over the years, it doesn't let you off the hook. Especially since you can probably piece together my issues, or at least some."
"So...wait, you were A..."
"Don't say my deadname. It's a deadname for a reason. But yes, we were paired together in our grade four science fair, among other things." Anya interrupted, perhaps aggressively reminding Clarke of etiquette.
Thankfully, the other blonde looked appropriately remorseful. "Sorry. But...okay, that makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it. I always wondered where you came from, and where the kid I grew up around went. I guess I just never connected the dots. Okay." Clarke noted, nodding absently as the gears of her brain clearly worked away. "It was the Spirit Week stuff I did for the student council, right?"
Anya rolled her eyes, because even if those events sucked, they weren't as hurtful. Not directly, at least. "They were transphobic, the genderbend days, at least. But not what I had in mind." She clarified before taking a long sip of her juice, a satisfied moan escaping her at the perfect balance of tang and sweetness. "Anyways, we can deal with that later. What's going on with you? It has to be something big if Lexa assigned me to you."
"Assigned? You make it sound like a mission. She just said that you usually do your own thing at cons, and that if I could tag along that it would be good for me, since your schedules don't really ever align with our usual group's plans." Clarke explained, making the whole weekend roommate situation a lot clearer.
Lexa definitely owed her for this.
"And Lexa told me you were having troubles, and asked me to be nice to you." Anya added, earning a sharp laugh from her counterpart.
"Well, you knocked that out of the park last night and this morning. Way to make me feel welcome." Clarke groused, for decently good reason, even if Anya had been fully justified in her responses.
"Lexa wasn't explicit about it to me, and I have every reason not to be kind. But if she talked to you, and rigged the room draw, then this is all on purpose. I get that now." Anya explained, wishing her cousin and best friend had been clearer about it. She probably would have been a lot angrier before arrival, but she could have at least prepared. "Let me guess, you drove up on your own. You're avoiding your friends over some recent falling-out, but still want a decent weekend because you paid for a pass and the hotel months ago."
Clarke picked up the swirly straw, unwrapped it, and stuck it in her drink. "You're mostly right. Raven's been fast-tracked through high school, so she finished last year and started at MIT one year early. I heard she and Finn broke up because of the distance, Finn told me as much by the start of the school year, and after a little while we started dating. We kept it low-key, not wanting to attract much attention or drama in our senior year...or at least, that's what I thought. Turns out, he was still dating Raven long-distance, and would spend some weekends over in Boston with her."
Anya winced, knowing that couldn't have been an easy revelation to face. "When did you find out?"
"Two weeks ago. Finn's been trying to get me alone to talk to me, but I just...I can't. I can't be the other woman, and I can't hurt Raven, so I'm just trying to get as much distance as I can and pretend Finn and I never happened." Clarke explained before taking a sip of her chocolate milk, a hint of a smile reaching her lips.
"Good call. He's even more of a jackass than I thought he was, you didn't deserve that." Anya admitted, seriously hoping the jackass wouldn't show his face around her that weekend. It'd already been one of the few times she could escape him and his friends relatively easily even when they attended, so the notion of him seeking them out was irritating to say the least.
Clarke tilted her head to the side as she took another sip, eyes twinkling with some mixture of amusement and curiosity. "I think I could get used to this softer side of you."
Anya huffed and took a gulp of her juice. Like hell if she was being soft. Clarke had no idea what soft would look like on her. "Not soft. Just honest. You'll be hearing plenty from me later, but it's neither the time nor the place for that."
Clarke sat back in her booth, hands in the air in mock surrender. "Okay, you're not being soft. Though if this isn't it, I'm seriously curious how soft and cuddly you can get."
"It's such a shame you'll never know." Anya shot back, sending a glare Clarke's way, but it didn't even faze the other blonde's growing grin.
"Well, I have an inkling. You did hold my hand..."
"That was to get your attention..."
"...and you brushed your thumb across my knuckles..."
"...which was to save this table from becoming a spectacle since you were on the verge of..."
"...and you gave me a cute little swirly straw and ordered me comfort food."
Anya rolled her eyes, taking another long gulp of her juice. It was a tragedy that Clarke's annoying nature was keeping her from truly savoring the freshly squeezed delicious drink. "That's beside the point. I was hungry, so I put an order in, and you were on edge, so I didn't want you to spill your drink."
"I'm sure." Clarke noted cheerfully, and though her clear sarcasm and exhaustion was written across her face, there was some sincere joy there too, for whatever reason.
Anya's perfectly thought out verbal barb to Clarke's smug behaviour was put on indefinite hold as their waitress returned, setting their respective orders onto the table. "And here we go, is there anything else I can get you two?"
"Can we get another orange juice for the pretty girl?" Clarke requested, her shit-eating grin holding as the waitress laughed and scribbled a quick note on her pad, and try as she might, Anya could not keep her cheeks from burning. She'd always had a weakness to compliments from other women. "Thank you so much."
Anya waited until the waitress was gone before leaning closer, ignoring her delicious pancakes to glare at the girl across from her. "Flattery will get you nowhere."
"Good thing I don't have anywhere else to be. But it will apparently get blood rushing to your cheeks. That's interesting." Clarke mused as she thankfully turned her focus to her meal. "This looks like it'll put me into a food coma."
"I did tell you that you need to sleep." Anya snarked as she cut up and forked a chunk of delicious pancake.
"You can't just get me pregnant with a food baby and expect me to sleep, Anya." Clarke insisted with a laugh. Anya would have vocally disagreed were she not enjoying her delicious pancakes. She loved a lot of their options, but the apple crisp ones were honestly to die for.
Once she was finished savouring her bite, Anya pointed her fork at Clarke's plate. "Eat up. You can tell me I'm wrong when you're done."
Clarke let out a huff, her cocked eyebrow clearing sending the signal that she wasn't going to be undone by breakfast food. Still, when Clarke took a bite of her pancakes, eyes fluttering shut and a content moan rumbling in her throat, Anya knew there was hope yet.
Or, well, at least that she'd get to finish her meal without much more trouble.
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