#he makes an exception for the siren that broke his sister all those years ago
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sqlmn · 2 years ago
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Happy 2023 have OCs from a plot that is older than a decade. None of these are the main characters lmao.
Ladd Moore (the main focus here) is an ass. Like just that’s his main trait. He’s outgoing and rude and a bit dense but incredibly good with technology. He’s in the field department of the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation (SBI) and sometimes when at HQ, research grabs hold of him to help with some tech. Only thing is, that’s between research leads and him. No one else in fieldwork thinks Ladd should touch a computer and most research staff think he’s annoying and stupid. So when he volunteers to fix something no one thinks he’s serious and they call research up and they go down and see Ladd watching them and just have to say “you didn’t want to help out the field division?” And he’s like “they told me no”.
His older sister, Lass, is also in the field department’s staff. Madison (Mads) is in research.
The siblings actually have a pretty traumatic childhood which is why Ladd follows his sister to this career. She thinks he’s being annoying but he wants to protect her since he blames himself for ruining her childhood… while she’s scared that it’s her fault for ruining his. So they don’t have the most peaceful relationship and it’s tense between them at times.
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ncssian · 3 years ago
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A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)
Masterlist
a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.
***
As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.
“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.
He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.
For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”
“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”
Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.
“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”
Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”
“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.
“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”
This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.
When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”
Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”
He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”
Azriel is no longer amused.
“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”
Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?
He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.
He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.
She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.
That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.
But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”
Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”
Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”
“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.
Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?
Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”
“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.
“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.
Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.
“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.
“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”
“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.
He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”
Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”
Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”
“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”
He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.
“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”
“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?
But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”
Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”
“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”
“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.
“It’s short for Maximillian.”
He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.
Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.
Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”
He shakes his head.
“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.
He swallows his toast roughly.
“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”
Damn, okay.
Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.
“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.
He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.
Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”
“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.
Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”
Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.
“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.
Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”
“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”
***
a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this
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aroaceslytherin · 3 years ago
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In Too Deep
(Used song 'In Too Deep - Why Don't We' for inspiration)
Used to be scared of the ocean
'Cause I didn't know how to swim
I took one sip of your potion
Now I'm just divin' right in
For as long as Regulus could remember, he would have nightmares of the ocean swallowing him whole and dragging him down to the unknown depths many levels below the earth’s surface. His siblings taught themselves to swim in the lake in the forest near their manor.
Regulus never followed. He panicked just even setting foot on the land where the lake was. Ever since the first dream, he would drink water with a straw, he would never take a bath but rather clean himself with rags, water, and soap, he hated the rain, and washing the dishes or his hands made his heart pound.
When Regulus was eighteen, he signed himself up for a Suicide Mission besides the protests of his sisters and brother. He loved James, he loved his daughter, but he had to make his mother proud of him. So he took on the task of finding the locket for Tom Riddle even after Tom asked him many times ‘Are you sure?’.
“Why are you all protesting?” Regulus asked, sitting on the table in the meeting hall.
“You can’t swim.” Narcissa pleaded.
“Inferi will drag you down before you can even get to a cure for the water!” Bellatrix added on. “You are not strong enough, you have a fear of water, someone would have to go with you but it has never worked before.”
“I’ll take the risk.” Regulus whispered. “I love you.”
I heard your siren's call, it was beautiful I am drowning, God, please don't save me
Regulus took a deep breath in as he packed his bags. He was leaving Hogwarts tonight - he used to be excited to leave because it meant freedom. Now he dreaded it. He no longer wanted to leave because the chance for freedom was now shattered.
Was he ruining his future? Were his siblings right?
Regulus took the route down to the Gryffindor Common Room once more. Seeing the painting he used to run through with his brother and his idiot friends sent flutters through his body. An overwhelming sense of sadness he had never felt before filled his soul.
“Damn you, James.” He chuckled, making his way to the platform where the carriages were to take them to the train.
Regulus remembered the first time he saw James... Or at least noticed him. He was thirteen. James was sixteen. Sixteen and holding hands with a slightly annoyed Lily who was also holding hands with Remus... Who was holding hands with Sirius. Those four did everything together.
He felt it was wrong to fall for his best friend’s brother and someone his family would hate but something inside him also did not care. For once he did not care about something. James was beautiful. James was everything Barty was not.
But at the same time he was still drowning. He had been drowning since that day at the lake. His siblings had not noticed, but Cygnus tried to get him to swim. Regulus slipped and the only person who saved him was Bellatrix. She stayed with him on the bank until everyone was ready to head home. James had not known this.
Regulus had not told him because he knew this suicide mission was coming. James would have stopped him. James deserved something and someone better than him. Whether that was Lily or Remus and Sirius - it just was not him.
Regulus Black.
Baby Black.
Goodbye was coming.
Goodbye was all they were meant to be.
Forever was never for him.
Forever was for his brother.
Forever was for James and someone else.
His brother had everything he never had...
Happiness. An amazing boyfriend. Love. A chosen family. A colorful life. Bravery. Confidence.
FREEDOM
I’m in too deep
Can’t touch the bottom with my feet
Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living
I’m in too deep
Can’t touch the bottom with my feet
Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living
Bravery.
One thing Regulus Black never had.
Or so he thought.
He was brave enough to date James Potter. An “enemy”. He was brave enough to put himself on the Slytherin Quidditch team.
Did he do it to get closer to James? Probably.
Did he do it to see his brother more? Definitely.
Regulus was brave. He just did not see it within himself. He saw broken pieces that couldn’t be mended. He saw flaws where others saw beauty. He was just as dark as Andromeda pretended she wasn’t. They were ‘Blacks’ , it is what they were.
Dark.
Powerful.
Malicious.
James told him at one point they were being brainwashed. It was after Regulus unknowingly shared stories of what Cygnus had done to his sisters. He quickly left the Gryffindor Common Room after that for fear of sharing any other family secrets.
Regulus was afraid of mirrors. He turned them around in his room which was dark with no colour, save for the dark forest green that had always been his favourite. He was supposedly supposed to be a Gryffindor. He couldn’t see himself in that house. He knew he would be a Slytherin through and through.
Like his family.
He was wrong.
He was a snake with a lion’s heart. He wondered if he would even be on this mission if he had taken the Hat’s suggestion. He wondered if he would still be with James.
Yet here he was. Standing at the entrance of Sirius’ bright room staring at the mess, the evidence that someone once lived there, unlike his own room, which felt cold and unlived. Empty and sad. Like a ghost passing through. Mourning a life of happiness.
Where Sirius had pictures of his friends scattering the walls adorned by Gryffindor banners and posters of girls to annoy his parents despite how gay he was or makeup strewn all over his vanity and floor...
Regulus had books. On his desk, on his bookshelf filled to the brim, on his nightstand, in his closet. It was the only colour he had. Everything had a home. He never misplaced or moved anything and he would be livid at anyone for a week if they moved something just an inch.
Now all that was left in his room was a cold presence.
Regulus ran to Sirius’ bed and buried himself in the mess of blankets. He missed his big brother’s hugs. He almost had forgotten what Sirius smelled like. He wanted his brother. His mother forbade them from seeing each other and he obeyed. He even declined when his Uncle Alphard tried getting them to meet up. It broke his heart but he didn’t want to be disowned like Pandora, Rosier, Andromeda, and Sirius. He didn’t want to be hung like Alastair. Narcissa escaped long ago.
It was just him.
Fighting alone.
Healing alone.
Crying alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
I’m in too deep
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
I’m in too deep
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Alone is all he has known. He knew he and James were going to end. As soon as they met it was goodbye. As soon as they met he was still alone even if James had said many times he had been found. He was seen. He was heard. He was no longer alone.
Regulus could not believe it no matter how many times he told himself. Everyone had left him. James would do the same. Except now Regulus felt guilty because he was the one that made James leave. He had begged James to leave instead of accepting the older boys’ help.
He then realized he pushed everyone away. It was safer that way. They would not get hurt when he dies. They got hurt anyway. It made Regulus sick. He should have stayed away.
If not for the suicide mission, then at his own hands. If he could not have James or Sirius then he is better off dead. Since he cannot have love and he cannot have James without doubt, anger, and beatings - he will just die. He could not wait for his mother to pass even if that meant his only path to happiness. As long as she was alive, he was miserable.
Regulus was done fighting for love. His brother was strong enough to fight for his love, but that is all Regulus had known. He fought for his mother’s attention and love. He fought for his life. For his family. He fought to stay. Regulus would not give up like Sirius did.
Sirius left.
Regulus kept going.
He was burning his hands on a rope he was gripping too tight, slipping until his hands were bleeding raw.
It was time to let go.
Treasure chest full of your diamonds
I don’t mind staying down here
Thought by now I would be dyin’
But your love gives me all my air
It scared Regulus to love this much. He had four beautiful years with James. It was time for the memories to be locked up. It was time for everything to end.
I heard your siren’s call, it was beautiful
I am drowning, God, please don’t save me
Regulus needed to see James one last time. Regulus was empty as he climbed the stairs to the apartment where Remus, Sirius, Lily, and James were living. Marlene and Dorcas were two doors down. None of them had heard from Peter in two years.
Regulus knew what Peter was doing. He also knew his mother was behind it all. Which is why he had to leave. Which is why he stayed glued on the mat, hesitating to reach up and knock.
Regulus backed out at the last minute, turning to go back and make his way to his grave.
I’m in too deep
Can’t touch the bottom with my feet
Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living
I’m in too deep
Can’t touch the bottom with my feet
Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living
“Regie?”
“Go back, James.” Regulus replied, not bothering to look back as he descended the stairs.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Please.”
Regulus stopped on the step he was on. “James.” He sighed. He was exhausted. He was done. He was empty. There was nothing left. He didn’t know what to say when you were trying to break someone’s heart. He didn’t know what to do when you were leaving someone. He had never had to do that before. It was always the other person.
“I can’t.” Regulus shook his head, slowly taking another step down.
“Come home.”
“It never was.”
“It was and you know it.”
“Enough, James.” Regulus choked out. “I love you. It does not change the fact that I am still leaving. Nothing will.”
“Regie.”
“James. I-” He sighed, dropping his head.
“What?”
I’m in too deep
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
I’m in too deep
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
I’m in too deep
“What?” James pleaded, stepping one foot out the door.
“Goodbye. I love you.”
I heard your sirens call, it was beautiful
Goodbye.
That one word swam in his head as he pulled on the Gryffindor sweater and let his heavy body take him down to the edge of the lake inside the cave.
He was doing what he had to.
He would make it.
His mother would love him.
He never wanted to admit it...
But his mother hated him just as much as she hated Sirius. She was not fit to be a mother and Cygnus was never meant to be a father. Which is why she made the dumb mistake to take in his daughters and kept having kids. She should have been less selfish and given her daughters and Sirius a different life by giving them up instead of having him and Alastair. Regulus loved his own daughter. Which is why he gave her to James. To keep her safe with Cyprus.
It was too late.
Inferi were clawing at him already.
He went through with it.
I’m in too deep
Can’t touch the bottom with my feet
Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living
It was too late.
James knew this but he still grabbed his coat and fled. He knew where Regulus was going. He left a note for his family, grabbed a coat, and fled. He needed to save the insufferable git that could not see what was right in front of him.
James could not say goodbye.
He loved that bastard just as much as he loved his brother.
As much as Remus.
As much as Lily.
Maybe just a little bit more.
I’m in too deep
I never thought that you could be
A underwater symphony, I can’t breathe but I’m living
I’m in too deep
Can’t touch the bottom with my feet
Don’t know what you did to me, I can’t breathe but I’m living
Regulus looked up at the sound of echoed footsteps running toward him. He gripped the rocks harder, trying to pull himself free but he kept slipping. His hands were bruised and covered in blood but he kept trying. He would not let them take him. He had to save the locket.
“James! Leave!” He screamed.
“Not without you!” The older boy yelled back.
“I love you, now leave!”
“No! I won’t let you go!”
Regulus groaned.
James dove after Regulus, grabbing his wrists and pulling.
“If you go down, I will go down with you.” James said calmly. “I love you.” He whispered breathlessly as they went under.
Hands clawed at the both of them. James held tight to Regulus as the younger boy struggled. He went through every spell in his mind until he found one that his father had taught him. An old one not many would know anymore.
Regulus went limp in his grip as James repeated the words in his mind.
Further and further they went.
I’m in too deep
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
I’m in too deep
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
Ah ooh-ah-ooh-ooh
I’m in too deep
James soon found himself on his back in sand. He chuckled before pushing Regulus off him and getting on his hands and knees just before he ended up choking. As he coughed up water, Regulus moaned from next to him.
James side-eyed Regulus. He was bleeding through the Gryffindor sweater, his hair was a sopping, bleeding mess; the only thing that made James feel like he could keep going was the small, subtle indicators that the younger boy was still breathing.
James scrambled onto his feet as Regulus started coughing. He turned the smaller boy onto his side, getting him to expel some water from his body.
James then ripped the locket off Regulus' neck and hoisted his boyfriend onto his shoulders.
James apparated them to The Black Manor in Regulus’ room. He laid him down and put the locket in the Mahogany jewelry chest on the younger boys' bookshelf stuffed to the brim with books.
“I don’t wanna be here.” Regulus mumbled.
James kneeled next to him on the bed, caressing the youngest heir’s hair. “No one is here. As far as we know your parents are dead. While you were hiding out in that abandoned apartment complex, the dementors came searching for the locket because they thought you had it already.”
“Idiots.”
“I will be right back.”
Regulus laid there staring at the ceiling. It felt like a year had passed until James came back with a glass of water. He stuck a straw in it before handing the glass to Regulus.
“How do we destroy it?” James asked, looking at the box.
“We don’t.” Regulus answered as he sat up. James looked at him quizzically. “Lily’s pregnant, right?”
“Uh, yeah? Where are you-”
“Shh. You know I have visions.”
“You cannot possibly predict the future.”
“No, but I can say that yours and Lily’s kid will be the one to destroy it. We can try and destroy the others. Bellatrix and Tom should not have finished all of them or gotten too far.”
(As I was writing this - Listen To Your Heart; Roxette - started playing. Let me tell you I cried.)
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villainousshakespeare · 4 years ago
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Family Night
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Tom Hiddleston/Fem!Reader RPF
Warnings: some angst, family drama, squabbling, fluff, feels, warmth, love, implied future smut After reconnecting on the set of In The Timing, Tom wants you to meet his family. How bad could it be?
I am feeling soft and fragile this week, so I had the urge to drop in on this couple and see a little slice of their life. Just some feels and a little bit of angst, but lots of love.
@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @alexakeyloveloki @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @ciaodarknessmyheart @frostbitten-written @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @hiddlesholic @hopelessromanticspoonie @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @nonsensicalobsessions @poetic-fiasco @redfoxwritesstuff @shiningloki @shae-annelore​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @wolfsmom1​ @yespolkadotkitty​
"I've changed my mind. I don't think this is a good idea," you said nervously as the car pulled into the driveway of a nice house in the suburbs of Oxford.
"Darling, relax," Tom sighed, shifting the jag into park and turning his devastatingly blue eyes on you. "Everything is going to be fine. They'll love you."
"I don't know how you can say that," you fretted. "Your mother hates me!"
"Correction," he grinned, "she hated you. Past tense. But back then you were the evil siren who had seduced her baby boy into a hedonistic life of sin he was too young and naïve to be prepared to resist, putting his entire bright and shiny future at risk."
"This is not helping!"
"Now though," he continued, ignoring your interruption, "you are the brilliant author of her favorite novels, and the screenwriter who has single handedly elevated her perfectly grown up boy to new heights of acclaim."
"I am the same person though!"
"I know that darling. I have inspected you very closely to catalogue that all of you is, indeed, just as I remember it from our first meeting-"
"With a few more pounds," you muttered.
"And you are exactly as perfect as I remember, if not more so. My mother, on the other hand, has a more selective memory."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, that by this time I am sure she has managed to convince herself that she always loved you, and wanted only for us to end up happily together."
You gave him a hard look, wanting to believe the slightly smug smile that tilted his lips but having a hard time doing so. Mrs. Hiddleston had definitely not approved of you all those years ago, and you doubted time would make her forget. You couldn't really blame the woman. You yourself had been convinced that the difference in your ages and circumstances had been an insurmountable barrier to your relationship. Tom had been a young student, just out of university and about to begin intensive training to become an actor. You were years older and already settled into your life as a writer, although you had yet to have much success at it. While the passion between you was undeniable, you had let your insecurity lead you to end the relationship.
Now, years later, situations had altered. Tom was indeed all grown up and an international movie star to boot, as you had always known he could be. You were still older of course, but the difference in your ages seemed less significant now that you were both established in the world. Everything had changed, except for the fire that still sprang to light when you were in the same room. That miracle had somehow managed to survive the separation, reigniting stronger than ever when your paths crossed again to make the movie you had written drawing inspiration in part from your love for him. For the millionth time you thanked whatever gods might be listening for giving you a second chance with this man.
"Come on, best face the fire and get it over with," he said, getting out of the car and trotting to your side to open your door like the perfect gentleman he pretended to be. Only you knew better.
"What fire? I thought you said there was nothing to worry about?"
"Merely a metaphor love. Besides, my sisters and their families are here, so that should smooth things over."
"Yeah, that's going to make me feel less nervous," you groused.
Tom held the door open and ushered you into the house, steering to the left and into a cozy, tastefully decorated living room.
"Mum, we're here!" he bellowed as he helped you out of your coat and hung it with his on a peg in the hall.
"Uncle Yay Monster!!!!"
A quick thunder of steps was heard as a small child hurtled down the stairs and straight into the impossibly long legs of your companion.  Tom laughed with genuine joy as he tousled the curly blond hair and attempted to pry the arms from around his legs. When he finally freed himself, it was only to swing the young girl, you guessed she was around 6, up into his arms for a bear hug that should have crushed her. Only your knowledge of how deceptively gentle he could be kept you from fearing for the child.
"Hello Pip!" he said, lifting her higher to balance on his shoulders. "Miss me?"
"Yes! Daddy's not as tall as you are!"
"Oh, so that's all I'm good for, is it? A better view? You women are heartless!" Tom winced as two little hands grabbed clutches of his hair, tugging for balance.
"No, not all. You also bring me presents!"
"Presents? What presents?" he made his voice baffled.
"Uncle Tom, you did bring me something, didn't you?" the shameless child wheedled.
"Maybe... grab my knapsack, would you?" he asked you.
As you moved to pick up the bag from where he had dropped it, you felt the girl's eyes focus on you as she suddenly realize she and her beloved uncle were not alone in the room.
"Who are you?" she asked with that directness only children could get away with.
Trying to hide your nerves, seriously how could you be nervous of a six year old? you introduced yourself, smiling up at her. From her lofty perch the girl regarded you as if you were an intruder into her realm and she was not sure whether to welcome you or order your beheading.
"Why is she here?" she asked Tom, who was moving from foot to foot in order to bounce her.
"Mind your manners, Pip," he scolded with a laugh. "She's a friend of mine. A very special friend."
"Gran did say you were bringing someone... I had thought she meant Luke."
"Why would I bring Luke to a family dinner?"
"Well, he's almost like family," she whined.
Tom swung the now squirming child off of his shoulders and hunched down to look at her more closely. You could see the disappointment in her face, and from the slight stain of her cheeks you had a sudden flash that her irritation was not so much at your inclusion than at the publicist's absence.
"Oh, Luke is fun, isn't he?" you asked, earning yourself a quick, incredulous look from Tom. "It's a shame he couldn't come tonight."
"He is!" the little girl turned her attention to you with a smile. "He scolds Uncle Yay Monster, and sometimes gets cross at him, but he's always very polite to me. He says that I'm the only Hiddleston who knows how to behave!"
"Shows what he knows," Tom huffed under his breath, making you struggle not to laugh.
"He's a very smart man," you nodded, ignoring your beau. "The first time I met him he said that he hoped I might be able to keep your uncle in line. I haven't had much luck so far. But to honest I don't really want to. I rather like it when he misbehaves. Sometimes."
"Me too," she admitted after a moment. "But don't tell Luke that!"
"I promise, it will stay between us," you said solemnly.
"I guess you can stay then," she decided. "Now, what did you bring me?"
"Greedy little Pip!"
"Pip?" you asked.
"Short for pipsqueak," Tom supplied with a grin.
"My name," she said with all the maturity of a duchess, "is Emilia. Only he calls me Pip. And only because he refuses to stop, even though I am much too old for that name now."
"Well, then I will call you Emilia. It's a very pretty name. Much more suitable than Pip."
"Traitor," Tom accused as he fished through his bag.
"I thought I heard voices!"
Emilia was squealing over her Shuri action figure, autographed on her feet, when a small group of adults entered the room. The family resemblance between Tom and his sisters was unmistakable. Fair haired and blue eyed, they were a classically attractive British family. Tom affectionately hugged both women with genuine warmth before moving on to the two men hanging slightly back and also gripping them in embraces. You stood aside and let the voices wash over you for a moment before he Tom turned back you and raised an eyebrow, drawing you to his side.
"Allow me to introduce my family. My sisters, Sarah and Emma, and their poor, beleaguered spouses Yakov and Jack."
"Hi," you managed. "Nice to meet you all."
"Oh, I love your books!" Sarah gushed, easing your mind a bit that the first response was positive.
"So, this is the woman we've heard so little about!" Emma, the younger of the two women said with a familiar grin.
"I've told you about her!" he insisted.
"You'll have to excuse Tom," Sarah told you with a roll of her eyes. "He loves to stoke the drama by being mysterious."
"I didn't realize I was such a secret," you said, glancing at him.
"They're grossly overstating things," he replied.
"No such thing. Tom never brings his women home. Not that there have been a lot of women," Sarah hastened to add.
Emma nodded. "And never for more than -"
"Three months!" they said in unison.
"Shut it!" Tom warned eloquently.
"Ah, the three month rule," Emma sighed dramatically, reminding you of her brother. "Give them just enough time to become fatally attached, poor deluded things, and then kick them to the curb."
"We never even get to meet most of them. He's always been that way. Ever since the woman."
"Sarah," Tom's voice was a warning.
"The woman?" you asked at the same time.
"Years ago, no one for you to worry about now!" she insisted quickly.
"Some older woman who broke his heart. Poor boy was never the same since. Not that he was such a catch before, mind you," Emma put in.
"That's enough," Tom snapped.
"Ooh, Tommy's angry!" Emma teased. "What was her name? Sarah do you remember?"
"Let me think," the older sister tilted her head to the side.
"No need," you decided to end the torture. "Um... it was me."
"What?" two sets of blue eyes stared at you while Tom ran his hand down his face.
"Can we maybe sit down now and talk like adults?" he asked in a pained voice.
"Oh, I need to hear this!" Emma said, falling into a chair.
Tom closed his eyes briefly and pulled you to his side on one of the comfortable sofas. You gave him a week smile and drew strength from the way his hand squeezed yours.
"Yes, alright," he said with a sigh. "Let's not all make a big deal out of this. We dated years ago. It was not an ideal break up -"
"I'll say," Sarah interrupted. "You cried for months!"
"I did not cry for - that is not the point. We met again on the set of the film, and the feelings were still there. We've been back together ever since."
"That would be so romantic if it wasn't about Tom!" Emma cooed.
"I think it's plenty romantic with anyway, thank you very much," he replied.
"I don't know what to think," Sarah said. "On the one hand, I swore if I ever met the woman who hurt my baby brother so badly I would beat the stuffing out of her. On the other... well, he does look fairly happy now."
"I am very happy now, so there will be no beating of anyone!"
"I really didn't mean to hurt him," you demurred. "I just thought the timing wasn't right."
"And I disagreed," Tom said through gritted teeth. "However, we both concur that the timing is impeccable now, so here we are."
"Wait, does your mother know?" Jack asked, interrupting the sibling banter for the first time. All eyes swung to him and he raised his hands defensively. "What? I know I'm the newest one, or was until now, but even I have heard of that woman who broke her baby's heart."
"I knew this was a bad idea!" you groaned.
"Well, it's not as though we had many alternatives," Tom shrugged philosophically. "You could hardly just never meet my mother if we are going to be together."
"I'm sure we could make it work some how," you said in a panic.
"Oh, don't worry about mum," Emma waved off your concern breezily. "Once she sees how dopy the Little Prince is over you, she'll come round soon enough."
"I'm just excited that Tom finally has a partner!" Sarah grinned.
"A partner for what?" you asked, a new sinking feeling hitting you.
"Game night of course!" Sarah answered.
"There are too many of us not to play partners, not if we ever want to go to bed," Emma explained, "but poor Tommy never has anyone for his team."
"Not since he made Mum cry that one time," Sarah added.
"I did not make her cry!"
"Yes you did!" his sisters said in unison.
"He made Luke swear once," Emilia added in from where she sat, previously forgotten by the grownups, introducing Shuri to Loki and Peter Parker figures. "I heard it all the way up in my room!"
"Pip! Hush! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom told her.
"I thought it was funny," she giggled.
"Well, yes, so did I," he admitted, "but that's not the point."
"The last time he brought Bobby and said the dog was going to be his partner," Yakov sniggered.
"As I recall, we won anyway," Tom said superiorly. "I don't need a partner to beat the lot of you. Of course, I am glad to have you anyway, darling."
"I can't say the feeling is necessarily mutual," you looked at him in dawning horror.
"It shouldn't be," Emma mouthed at you in an exaggerated stage whisper. "
"Mr. Bossy Pants doesn't like loosing, you see," Emma told you gleefully.
"But he looooooves rules!" Sarah added.
"Well, there's no point without rules!"
"You are such a tight ass!" Emma mocked.
"Just because you're damn squib when it comes to games has to cheat to win!"
"Thomas William Hiddleston, how dare you talk to your sister that way!"
All heads turned to the entryway where a stylish woman of advancing years stood, arms on hips, looking fierce despite her red apron. Tom stood and took a step forward, face flushing as he realized his mother had caught him out.
"That's right, you tell him!" Emma couldn't seem to resist saying.
"Hush Emma," the matriarch said to her younger daughter, "I have no doubt you were provoking him."
"See, she always takes his side!" Sarah pointed out to you.
"That's because you two always gang up on me!"
"Stop it all of you, or do you all have to go sit on the naughty step for a time out?"
All three Hiddleston children looked mutinous, but held their peace as their mother stared them down.
"Some day you will have to teach me how to do that," Jack sighed wistfully.
"I'm afraid it wouldn't work for you dear," she smiled at him. "You have to be a mother. Now, Tom, would you like to introduce me to your friend?"
"Of course," Tom seized the change in conversation and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you to your feet like an overzealous puppy. "Mum, I know you've been telling me you wanted to meet the woman who had made me sound so happy on the phone. Well, here she is!"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hiddleston," you lied, smiling anxiously.
"Oh, please, call me Diana," she smiled, moving in to hug you. "From what I've gleaned from my son, you are practically part of the family all ready."
"She certainly is," he agreed, beaming. "And I want no more jokes about three month rules or mystery dates."
"Oh, have the girls been giving Tom a hard time?" Diana sighed, rolling her eyes at her children. "They do love to needle him."
"It's good for him," Sarah opined. "Helps to counteract all that Sexiest Man Alive nonsense to hear from people who know the truth."
"Not to mention it's proper payback for the therapy bills from having to see our brother's arse on the big screen every time we go to the movies."
"Mum..." Tom wheedled.
"Alright girls, that's enough in front of Tom's friend. So, you two met on the set of the film? I love your writing by the way! Did Tom tell you I was the one who suggested he go after that project?"
"He did," you confirmed.
"From the moment I read your books, I couldn't help but think of my Tom. Well, perhaps not in the steamier scenes... I confess I had to skip those. I'm not a prude you understand, it's just in this case..."
"I understand completely!" you interjected as her children shuddered and squirmed.
"Good. I just couldn't get past the idea that the stories were written specifically with him in mind!"
"Well, actually," you took a deep breath, deciding to face the fire head on, just as Tom suggested, "they were."
"Oh, you mean you were a fan of his work?" she smiled. "I can understand that. He is rather charming on screen, at least in the movies where he is not forced into some ridiculous wig."
"No," licked your lips nervously and glanced at Tom.
"You see Mum," he took over, taking your clammy hand in his firm, warm embrace, "we had met before. In point of fact, you two have met before."
"Oh, Tom, don't be silly. I would remember that!"
"Oh, I think you do," he grinned, making you wonder if he'd gone mad. "It was the first time you dropped by my apartment at RADA. You hadn't called, and I thought you were the pizza deliveryman."
"Oh dear," Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose as you cringed in memory.
"Now Tom, the only woman I ever met at your apartment was that dreadful... oh!"
"Indeed," he nodded.
"You mean you were..."
"I'm afraid so," you mumbled, staring at the floor.
"But you were so old," she said. "So much older than my Tommy."
"Real tactful, Mum," Emma commented.
"I am older than him," you confirmed.
"But you don't look it all," Diana said, looking from you to her son. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that Tom was at least your age, if not older."
"Thanks, Mum."
"It's all that time in the sun," Sarah said. "I've told you to put on sunblock."
"I do."
"Children," Diana said, voice crisp with command, "the table needs setting."
Clearly knowing when fun time was over, Sarah and Emma jumped to their feet and with startling alacrity were out of the room, husbands in tow. Tom put his arm around your waist and stubbornly stood firm in a power stance, glaring at his mother.
"You too, Tom," she told him quietly.
"It does not take five people to set a table," his voice was just as soft.
"Then you can make the salad. We all know from that silly addvert you filmed that you know how to do that at least."
"It's okay, Tom," you told him as he geared up to protest again. "I'll be fine."
"Of course she will. Emilia, don't think I don't see you there. Go with your uncle and make sure he doesn't cut himself on any of the knifes."
You could tell that Tom wanted to protest further, but with his niece staring up at him adorably he was unable to do so. At last, with a disgruntled grunt, he lifted Emilia back onto his shoulders and harrumphed off towards the kitchen.
"Please, have a seat."
Diana gestured to one of the highbacked chairs. You perched on the edge as though prepared to fly off at any moment. The older woman settled herself straight backed in the seat across from you and looked you over carefully.
"So, you're her," she said at last. "I must confess, you look quite different in my memory."
"It was some time ago," you mumbled.
"A decade and a half. You broke his heart when you left him you know. He never really got over it. Oh, he dated of course. Actresses, popstars, but his heart was never in it."
"I never got over it either," you confessed, tears fighting to form in your eyes. "I loved him very much, even back then."
"But you left him."
"I did."
"Why?" she seemed very intent as she held your gaze. This mattered, you knew. Deeply.
"Because I loved him," you admitted. "I loved him from that first night. But he's Tom, and was even back then. He was brilliant, and driven, and had the whole world spread out in front of him."
"He did. I thought you were going to stand in the way of all of that. Be a distraction."
"I would have. If you know Tom, and of course you do, you know he is incapable of doing anything by half measure. If he committed himself to me, he would have gone all in. How would he be able to do that and gain the experience he needed?"
"He wouldn't have."
"I agree. He would have missed out on all the adventures waiting for him. And he would have secretly resented me, maybe even hated me for it."
"I don't know about that," Diana said, thinking it over, "but I would have. Yes, I can admit that. He was always destined for greatness, that boy. His father and I knew it from a very young age. When he told me about you, I thought you were an opportunist. Using an up and coming young boy for all the things that an older woman would. When you dumped him, well I just assumed..."
"That I had gotten bored with him?" you guessed.
"Well, yes I suppose. But that wasn't it at all. You weren't being dismissive, you were being protective. You put Tom's needs above your own."
"I don't know that I was being all that altruistic," you laughed. "Being tied to someone who resented me didn't seem like all that much fun for me either in the long run. But yes, I wanted what was best for him."
"Of course he couldn't see that. He's always been a stubborn boy. But now, after all this time..."
"It was like fate," you blurted out. "I know that sounds hokey, but it was as though the universe wanted us to end up together."
"Maybe it did."
"Then you're not upset?"
"My dear," she said, "I have watched my son his whole life. He is not an easy man in many ways. He is elusive, competitive, bossy, and highly driven. His standards for others are only exceeded by his standards for himself. If you have managed to maintain his interest, not to mention his heart, for all this time, who am I to gainsay that? Yes, I objected to your relationship in the past. You were correct about the opportunities he would have missed out on. But it's different now. Tom is a man, and well established in the world. He can pick and choose his projects to a great extent, and has the clout in the industry to set his own terms. If that includes bringing his wife on a shoot, or scheduling so that it fits in with her schedule, well, good for him."
"Wife?" you squeaked. "There's been no talk of that!"
"Oh, just wait. As I said, I know my son. He is not one to let the grass grow under his feet. If he is introducing you to all of us, and I admit, we can be a trial, then his plans are not of the short term variety."
"I want to be the flower girl!" a high pitched, excited voice called from the hallway.
"Emilia! Were you eaves dropping?" Diana exclaimed.
"Only because they told me to!" the little girl poked her head in to say.
"For the love of... if you'll excuse me, I have some children to reprimand."
"Of course," you said with a small chuckle.
"But first," you were suddenly embraced in a warm, maternal hug, "allow me to officially welcome you to the family. You have your work cut out for you. But please, for me sake, try to get him to cut his hair, or at least buy a new outfit. We are all heartily sick of The Uniform."
With a last squeeze, Diana got up and headed for the kitchen, leaving you shaken on the couch. Tom had been right, you had faced your fear, and the worst had not happened. In fact, things had gone better than you ever hoped for.
"Everything alright, love?" he asked, stepping in from a side door that you hadn't realized was there.
"Everything is wonderful!" you smiled tearily at him.
"See, I told you she'd love you!"
"Wait, aren't you supposed to be getting scolded?" you asked, coming into his arms.
"Ah, well. Every good obnoxious brother knows all the escape routes. I slipped out as soon as heard footsteps. By the time Mum finds me, she will be worn out from dealing with the others. Classic technique! Time tested."
"You must have been a terror," you laughed.
"Oh, most definitely," he agreed happily. "But now I'm your terror. And I assure you my sisters are very happy to have me off of their hands."
"I'll bet."
Tom grinned, and then kissed you soundly, making you forget for a moment the large family argument doubtless going on in the other room. He had a way of taking every thought from your head except for how perfect it felt to be in his arms, pressed against him. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathing hard and more than a little excited.
"Best stop that for the time," he said regretfully. "Or we'll be in for it even more."
"You're probably right," you had to admit. Then a thought struck you and you couldn't resist a giggle. "Tom?"
"Yes love?" he asked, kissing your neck.
"What's the naughty step?"
"Just wait until everyone else goes to bed tonight," he told you, head in his voice, "and I'll show you."
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tragedybunny · 4 years ago
Text
Wise Men Say, Only Fools Rush In - Chapter 1: Welcome to the Jungle
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What I had expected was an interview, a proper face-to-face with the chance to prove my suitability to my potential superiors. What I had was maybe twenty minutes on the phone with the notorious CEO before he cut me off abruptly. “That will be enough for today, Ms. Du Couteau. I’m perfectly convinced your Father is correct and you will be more than sufficient for the role here.” From the moment he spoke I’d noticed that while rich and cultured, his voice carried a certain quality to it, a sense of superiority, as though he held himself above those around him. It seemed to me that it was genuine confidence though, unlike Father’s smugness, which always seemed to be from a place of compensating for whatever. As rich and powerful as he, I could only think he had short man syndrome with his insecurities. There was something dark as well in the tone of this Mr. Swain, he was not a man to be trifled with. “Provided you do not prove to be inept in some way I can’t predict.”
It was probably unwise that I gave in as I felt my temper flare at the unnecessary condescension. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Swain. I can’t wait to prove myself sufficiently competent for my future with Noxus Holdings.” The sarcasm rolled off my tongue before I could catch myself, my eyes going wide and a hand moving to cover my mouth as though that could undo what I’d said.
There was a long pause on his end and I held my breath, sure that I’d just burned this whole thing to the ground. “Very well, we’ll expect you in two weeks. I’ll have all the details forwarded to you.” I could’ve sworn he sounded almost amused and I died a little bit inside.
Hanging up, I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and was thankful I was alone so no one could see their crimson hue. Had I really just snapped at the most important person at my new employer, the CEO of the company that my whole future hinged on? And he hadn’t said anything. Either this was one of those “I like her moxie” types of situations or there would be hell to pay later. The latter was usually the case for me anyway.
It was with that peculiar encounter in mind that I found myself waiting in the lobby of Noxus Holdings wearing a subdued gray suit, hoping to look less like the hot-head I’d proven to be over the phone. I swallowed a nervous exhale and glanced around, a carefully constructed fantasy of an industrial office space from a century ago surrounded me, all glass, and iron, and deco style windows. An escort from my department should arrive at any moment, and I wanted to be damn sure I looked as cool and confident as possible. It wasn’t as if the job itself would be a challenge, contracts and fending off lawsuits from angry ex-employees and investors, nothing I hadn’t done before.
“Red!” A richly accented, yet horrifyingly familiar and obnoxious voice broke the quiet ambiance of the lobby. The pair of receptionists on duty shot furtive glances toward the source in unison before returning to what they were doing. Standing just in front of the elevator, a black suit with a yellow blouse perfectly accenting her bronze skin, was a woman I’d hoped I’d left behind on graduation day, Samira.
How had I missed that this was where she’d ended up? I’d stayed in touch with some of our old sorority sisters, and they kept me in the loop on a lot of the gossip about everyone. It made a lot of sense though, she had a truly vicious nature, there was no way she wasn’t thriving here. I inhaled, feeling a slight twitch in my eye at even this small interaction, and walked toward her. “Hello Samira, it’s been a while.” My voice remained level and surprisingly pleasant, I just needed to treat her like every troublesome, idiotic client I’d ever been assigned, even if I felt irritation clawing at every one of my nerves. It had always been like that, something about her just grated on me.
“A while!? We haven’t talked since the Phi Sigma Tau farewell party.” The wind was suddenly knocked out of me as I found myself in a very unwelcome embrace. “Not that anybody saw much of you that night, well except Garen. Not that I blame you, a moonlit beach, a few good drinks, perfect romantic atmosphere.” I was freed only to be nudged harshly with an elbow as Samira leered at me in a teasing manner. “And I heard he saw quite a bit of you out there on the sand.” The laugh that followed was at least quiet enough that we didn’t instantly become the center of attention.
An involuntary snort escaped me and I felt irritation starting to give way to outright anger, my mind buzzing and my vision starting to tunnel. “I’m surprised anyone noticed with the other incident that happened that night.” My pleasant mask remained in place but reminding her I wasn’t the only one with a story from that night filled me with a sense of petty satisfaction, especially since hers ended with the wail of police sirens.
“What can I say, it was a wild night all around.” Her arm looped through mine and she began to drag me toward the elevator. “See, it’s just like old times.” For a moment I wondered if she could truly be this oblivious to my intended insult. That was answered a moment later she leaned in and violently whispered in my ear. “Don’t think you can fuck with me Red. Your Daddy’s name isn’t going to get everything just handed to you here.” I’d just made horrifying mistake number two. There was no way she hadn’t been baiting me to see what reaction I’d have. With reckless force, she jabbed the elevator button and spoke in a more audible and warm tone. “I’m sure we’ll find ourselves to be best friends all over again.”
I nodded silently, not wanting to give her a response that would encourage her further. These last few moments had brought my new reality into stark clarity. I hadn’t expected to waltz in and find myself in a top position with no work on my part, but I hadn’t anticipated that I’d be met with outright hostility. If it was just Samira that would be one thing, but were there others lurking in the shadows that I’d have to wary of? Maybe deep down I had still had some delusion about the family name being a shield of sorts, those were just entirely shattered. It would get me no further than it already had.
A vintage styled, cage-like elevator came to a stop before us. An insistent tugging on my arm pulled me into it after her, her pleasant smile frozen into place. The doors closed, a cheery ding sounded, and we dropped all semblance of civility to glare at one another. “My dear,” my eyes rolled reflexively at the honeyed tone, “we are going to be working very closely. Try not to lash out every time I make a harmless joke. I know you are used to things being smoothed along in the family business.” Nails dug into my palm, there was no way she could know the truth, but still, I fought an urge the physically quiet her.
I know a powerplay when I see one, this whole scene had been staged to give Samira a sense of dominance in our new arrangement. And there was no way I could retaliate with her seniority over me. At least not yet. I could feel bile creeping its way up my throat as I realized that if I was going to succeed and build my life of independence, there was nothing I could do about it right now but live with it. There was the small consolation that I gleaned something else from this encounter, if Samira was taking direct action it was because she was threatened. I’d always been the better lawyer, all throughout school and our intern days. It was likely I wouldn’t end up having to live with her antics for long. To that end, I released a breath and relaxed my shoulders. “You’re right. Let’s start this whole thing over. It’s good to see you again Samira.”
A small noise of approval escaped her and she turned away to face the elevator doors, clearly satisfied with my conciliatory act. Well, even if she had won the battle for today, there was still a war to be fought. Another high-pitched ding and the cage stopped at one of the upper floors. The same aesthetic carried through here, exposed venting ran along the ceiling, gray carpet accented the dark wood and iron-finished metal of the walls, artfully uncovered ���antique” light bulbs illuminated anywhere the natural light from those same intricate windows from the lobby didn’t reach. “We should really track down Darius and I’ll introduce you.” There was an implication she was doing me a favor. Another small irritation, the whole department reported to him, it was expected we’d meet. “He’s the VP and also head’s up the acquisition team along with lega-Ah!”
Samira had turned to speak over her shoulder at me and midspeech was physically halted by a collision with a figure appearing from around a corner. I stifled the laugh that bubbled up, she’d desperately deserved that little impact. “Sorry Sam, don’t kill me. Well hello there new and gorgeous.” His tone shifted from apologetic to a practiced arrogance somehow in perfect harmony with the goatee he sported, one that I can only imagine he believed was attractive. The obvious leering that accompanied his words left me with the urge to bury my knee in his groin.
“Draven, this is Katarina, she’s just starting with us in legal. Should I let your brother know what a warm welcome you’re giving his new employee?” The newcomer’s face visibly became several shades paler. Interesting, it would seem that Noxus was also a place of family ties. “Kat, this is Draven, head of marketing.” For once, I couldn’t blame her for the annoyance coloring her words.
A hesitant hand reached out toward me and I made sure to lock my grip on it firmly. Years of martial arts as a hobby had left me with deceptive strength in my small frame. Pale blue eyes widened at the sudden pressure as I smiled sweetly. “Very pleased to meet you Draven.”
Shockingly, he returned my smile when I released his hand. “You’ve got a bit of a spark, I’ll bet you fit in just fine. Lookin’ forward to working with ya.” Wordlessly, Samira led on as Draven waved pleasantly behind us. “Be nice to this one Sam!”
An irritated sigh escaped her, but she waited until we were out of earshot to speak again. “Nicely done,” a compliment, he must really rub her the wrong way, “he’s harmless, but it’s good to keep him on a short leash.”
The hallways we passed through lacked the small cubicle farms you would find on the lower floors, instead, there were plenty of offices, conference rooms, and occasionally open-plan shared workspaces for teams who worked closely together. It was in one of those workspaces, bordered by offices, that Samira finally stopped. The buzz of those gathered in the area halted, and all eyes turned toward us. Silence reigned even as the curious examination of the newcomer was evident. “Everyone, this is Katarina, our new team member I told you about.” Murmurs welcoming me to the group responded, they were subdued though, as if they were afraid to be too excitable in front of Samira.
Despite the outwardly friendly moment, I kept my face neutral, and voice aloof as I returned their greetings. Any group within a company this high profile would be extremely competitive, and I’d be damned if I was going to start by giving off an air of weakness. They were probably already appraising me, deciding if I was any real threat to their positions.
“I see I’m right on time.” A deep voice cut through the subdued chatter and a massive figure approached us. Clad in a simple, but clearly expensive suit, his presence seemed to fill the entire space as he exuded a calm confidence. There was also something familiar about him, I was sure he had been at the family firm before.
“You couldn’t give me an hour before checking in, could you?” Indignation caused her voice to go up an octave in pitch, an effect that was quite satisfying for me.
The newcomer’s eyes narrowed dangerously, my first taste of the office hierarchy in action. Impatiently he gestured for us to follow, and not wanting to seem daunted by the sparks, I cut in front of Sam, following to an office that was nearby. Once the door was slammed behind us, I realized it was her office, the degree proudly displayed on the wall bearing her name. Tension enveloped the three of us. “Don’t start Sam. I’m not trying to babysit you.”
She clicked her tongue and muttered in defeat. “Fine, just make it quick.”
The full attention of the room fell on me. “Darius Basilich, pleased to finally meet my newest team member.” He held out a hand for a much more dignified handshake than the one I gave his brother. “Sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk before now, Jericho doesn’t always give us a head’s up when he’s decided something.” The gruff words had a frankness and sense of honesty about them that was refreshing. I took note of the use of Mr. Swain’s first name, it was good to know who he was that comfortable with.
Releasing his hand, I could recognize that he’d be my first ally here and one that I needed on all fronts. “I believe we’ve met previously, while I was interning for my father.”
In answer, he offered a small, but genuine smile. “Thought you looked a bit familiar. Must have been when I was wrangling Draven out of that mess.”
Sam, who had sat behind her desk and started furiously typing, snorted. “Your brother is always into something.”
My expression must have faltered because he let out a weary sigh. “I see you’ve met. Anyway, great to have you on board. It was a shock that Marcus was willing to let one of the kids go.”
My stomach crawled as I recalled the last two weeks of verbal abuse I’d gone through, not just from Father, but Cassie as well. All because I dared to leave them. I was never more grateful for my apartment, that space that was mine alone, and no one could spoil it. Leaving the family manor was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Of course, I couldn’t get into any of that, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. “Who would’ve guessed.”
“I’ll let you get settled in, we’ll talk again soon. Sam, play nice.” They glared at each other one last time before he exited.
“You two have a problem?” I ventured. Knowledge was power, so I needed to get the lay of the land quickly.
Laughter met my words. “Nah, Darius and I just have an endless pissing contest. He’s alright, but I am going to replace him as the boss’s favorite eventually.” No surprise it was some obnoxious game of hers. “Anyway, let’s get you settled in the office, I’m sure it’s not the posh corner you had a Daddy’s, but you weren’t expecting that anyway.” If the thought of returning to him defeated didn’t make my stomach heave, I would’ve knocked her out cold. Instead, I shot her a cold look and followed to my new office; small, windowless, and suspiciously right across from hers. A few seconds later we were joined by a short, pale woman with tight pinned brown hair and ice-blue eyes, about our age. “This is Alyssa, she’ll get you set up.”
Several hours, and an aching back later, my mind was completely overloaded with passwords, computer systems, and file paths. Stretching, I felt the siren call of the cozy little cafe I’d spied in the lobby. Turning to Alyssa, I could read in her expression she was in the same mind frame I was. She’d proven to be easy enough to get on with, that was one victory for the day. Our backgrounds intersected in a way, she’d come from a family business as well. However, she’d sold her share of the ownership of Ironspike Industries to Noxus on her way through the door. It had been a nice payday and guaranteed her a stable career no matter what. Most would consider it a cold-blooded move, but I could get the perspective that family wasn’t always sacred. Besides, she laughed easily enough and had a comeback for every bit of banter. “Hey…”
The door flew open with a sudden violence, Samira standing behind it. “You’ve been summoned Red.” A hefty binder dropped from her arms onto my desk with a resounding thud. “It’s been requested that you escort this up to the top floor for Mr. Swain. He wants to read through it before it’s presented to the board and he has a hard-on for physical copies.”
My heart lurched as I rose from my seat. I hadn’t expected it to come this soon, meeting the CEO I’d had the gall to snap at. “Well, wish me luck Alyssa.” My voice was deadpan flat and Samira gave me an odd look. Maybe the incident hadn’t become common knowledge as I’d feared.
The elevator ride was not nearly long enough as the gilded cage ascended the final few floors to the very top of the building. I stepped out, binder held in front of me like a shield, only to realize that Samira hadn’t given directions beyond the floor. An empty receptionist’s desk stood sentinel, the occupant clearly out to lunch. Beyond it was a foyer with branching hallways. Hesitantly, I stepped forward to glance down them. “End of the center hall.”
The deep voice from nowhere caused me to jump a little. Darius, of course his office was up here too. “Thanks,” I ordered my voice to remain cool and collected.
“Let me guess, Sam neglected that bit?” He chuckled slightly. “She really wants to assert herself with you.”
“It seems a certain level of ruthlessness is the Noxian way.” Some of the tension faded. Despite the fact that he was very nearly a literal giant, Darius was much less intimidating than you would think. In fact, there was almost a warmth to him.
He shrugged. “We buy and sell other companies. We have the whole of another person’s world in our hands. It helps to keep an edge about you. Although I imagine it’s not a problem with your background.”
It would seem that everywhere I went, the Du Couteau name would haunt me. If I wasn’t outright reviled for it, I was at the very least, notorious. Father had a reputation for ruthlessness, a reputation that had been handed down the generations with the firm starting with my great-grandfather. “You’re not wrong.” Even if I was shadowed by the name, the lessons I’d been taught in the cause of that reputation ensured I could be cut-throat when necessary. His words reassured me that even if the name itself couldn’t, the legacy of it could definitely serve me here. “Catch you around Darius.” I gave him a confident smile and a wave as he headed toward the elevator.
The walk down the hall was short with no other offices present and ended in an impressively large door made of dark stained wood. Before I could give it any more thought, I quickly knocked. “Enter.” The voice from the other side sent a shiver down my spine with the combination of confidence and callousness that I recognized from the interview. Again, I couldn’t hesitate, so I obeyed the order as quickly as possible. Afternoon sun streamed in from a wall of windows across from the door, throwing the massive desk to the right into shadow. Contrary to the sleek, artistic industrial look of the rest of the building, this office had the look of a cozy personal study. High-backed chairs surrounded a table to the left, bookshelves lined the walls. The L-shaped desk was made of warm cherry wood with brass embellishments and looked like a genuine antique. “Ah, Ms. Du Couteau, we meet at last.” Looking up from his computer screen as I approached, he fixed me with a piercing gaze that I would swear could read my thoughts.
My breath rushed from my lungs. That cultured and captivating voice I knew, but the physical reality of him I hadn’t been prepared for. Elegant cheekbones and a proud nose gave him a regal bearing, but his high arched eyebrows and deep-set, midnight eyes put it under a pall of severity. The long mane of silken looking, white hair that flowed down his back could’ve offset it, if not for the scowl he was currently giving me. Overall though, his attractiveness took me by surprise, the elegant silver-fox not the visage I’d been imagining since our call. That fact critically distracted me, leaving me frozen where I was at the edge of his desk far too long. “Well, I don’t have all day.” Inwardly I cringed, what the hell was wrong with me.He motioned to the binder that I still clutched with a hand that gleamed bronze in an errant ray of sunlight that had fallen over us.
“Right.” I passed the burden into that outstretched, lustrous hand.
He all but snatched it from me. “Yes, it’s prosthetic. You could ask instead of staring.”
My eyes went wide with horror, I hadn’t realized that I had been. “My apologies, Mr. Swain.” My father’s triumphant laugh as I begged to return rang in my ears.
Turning his chair from his monitor, he dropped the binder with violence on the desk and began to thumb through it. The pace was such that it gave the impression it wasn’t the first time he’d seen it. “Did you have the opportunity to read through this?” He asked without glancing back up at me.
“No, I hadn’t.” Mercifully, my voice remained steady.
Turning it toward me, he tapped a fingernail on a paragraph. “Tell me what is wrong with this?”
Leaning down, I skimmed through it quickly, my mind translating the legal jargon without effort. At first glance, it was a contract for our purchase of yet another company. What had he seen in it? What was I looking for? Ah, it wasn’t a sentence, it was the whole paragraph. “There’s no commitment for the transition from the current leadership. They can dump and run, leaving us without support.”
“Very astute.” Well, he didn’t lose the scowl but there was a subtle note of approval in his voice. It felt like I could inhale again finally, I might still be able to salvage this. “Take it back down to Samira and tell her it will not make it to the Board this week. I want Darius to answer how that was overlooked.”
Warily, I gathered back up the binder as he sat back in his chair, on guard as though he were somehow dangerous. “Will that be all?”
“For now.” His eyes were drawn back to his monitor, and I began to turn away, sensing dismissal. “Fine enough job for the first day, Ms. Du Couteau.” The small compliment halted me mid-pivot, a small touch of warmth blooming in my stomach and a smile tugging my lips with the unexpected approval. I opened my mouth to answer, but was cut off. “Hmm, you know, this should be further reviewed. Samira already has a lot on her plate. Let her know that you’ll be taking the lead on this for the department. Darius will bring you up to speed.”
The world around me spun. Take that Father, I’m already getting the recognition I had to scrape and fight for every day with you, even when I’d accomplished something. “Will do, Mr. Swain.”
I strode from his office, feeling at the summit of the world, but a curious sensation of butterflies filled my stomach. As the door shut behind me, I let myself smile wide. I’d done it, sufficiently impressed him, the CEO with the ruthless reputation, the known hardass, the man with...with those captivating dark eyes. “Reign it in Kat.” Furiously I whispered to myself. “You’re engaged and you’ve seen attractive men before.” My mind betrayed me though, flooding me with the sensation of having those eyes focused on me as I walked.
Silently lecturing myself, I headed back to the elevator. The sudden vibration of my phone from my jacket pocket shook me from the cycle of my thoughts. Pulling it out, the notification seemed there just to judge me, Garen’s smiling face poised next to it. “Hey dear, how’s that first day going?”
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raywritesthings · 4 years ago
Text
Happy Accident 1/3
My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Felicity Smoak, Curtis Holt, John Constantine, Rene Ramirez, Rory Regan, E-2 Laurel Lance Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Felicity’s punch has consequences no one intended, driving Oliver to take drastic measures with their own unexpected result. *Can be read on AO3, link in bio*
Oliver watched, tensed to make some kind of move, to intervene. He couldn’t let this twisted version of Laurel kill Felicity, yet hurting her could possibly be one of the hardest things he’d have to do. His verbal appeal to her not working, however, he was left with little choice.
Curtis intervened before he had to act, using some kind of device to neutralize the Black Siren’s metahuman-enhanced Cry.
She turned around to look at Curtis with shock and impotent rage, Oliver’s teammate coldly stating, “You really need to shut your damn mouth.”
They could bring her in without violence, Oliver realized with relief. They could secure her to keep her from hurting others, and maybe, just maybe, he could try to reach her and find out why she was so determined to hurt herself.
But then Felicity moved.
“Hey, pumpkin,” she said, just barely catching Siren’s attention before her fist connected with the other woman’s head. Oliver’s heart stuttered in his chest for one crucial moment as he watched Laurel Lance fall to the ground once more. It almost felt like he was stuck in slow motion or even frozen — just like the damn prison — until she hit the concrete floor with a hard smack that jolted him out of his horrified reverie.
“Hey. Kept my wrist straight,” Felicity remarked to him with pride as she straightened up. She eyed him funnily as he failed to provide a response, but as much as he was glad Felicity finally seemed to be picking up defensive maneuvers, but he could not delight in them being used against a woman with Laurel’s face.
And then Curtis, who had gone to handcuff Siren while she remained on the ground, said something that chilled Oliver to the bone: “Uh, guys? She’s not moving. Like at all.”
Oliver rushed forward, crouching on the other side of her as he and Curtis turned her over.
“Oliver, careful, it could be a trick,” Felicity cautioned.
But as he looked upon her pale, unmoving face and the red blood that ran down her temple to her chin with just a small amount continuing to ooze from the wound, he knew it wasn’t. His voice, when he found it, sounded strangled to his ears. “She’s dead.”
“What?” He didn’t know if it was a whisper or a shout; Felicity’s voice sounded far away while his head pounded and his eyes blurred and stung. On impulse, he reached for Laurel’s cooling body, pulling her into his arms.
“Oh God,” Curtis muttered under his breath. “Oh God, oh God.” It was clear the younger man was panicking, maybe going into shock, but Oliver could do nothing for that when he felt like throwing up himself.
Instead, he closed her mouth to rid it of the permanently slack-jawed expression Felicity had unknowingly etched onto her face and slowly stood. His head was bowed, but he still could make out Felicity’s wide and horrified eyes.
“Oliver, I- I didn’t mean to — she was going to kill me.”
“We're going back to the base,” he directed, and something in his tone seemed to work at getting both her and Curtis moving to follow him.
Laying her out of one of the tables was agony, because she looked too much like she had in the hospital. She looked dead, because she’d always been dead. He’d known that; he’d fought to escape a whole other reality because he’d known it was true no matter how much he hoped and wished and dreamed it wasn’t.
As he cleaned the blood from the one side of her face, he could hear the others talking quietly a good distance away.
“I shouldn’t have let her escape. One of the guards could have died, and now this.”
“You didn’t know it would happen.” Rory paced the floor, nervous energy rolling off him. They were all nervous and tense, maybe even more so than when the truth about his past as the Hood had come to light. Maybe it was because Oliver was no longer the only one in the room with blood on his hands. “Prometheus was there. We almost caught him.”
“It wasn’t your tech that did this,” Rene was offering Curtis in comfort.
All Oliver was really hearing was excuses. Reasons this wasn’t their fault, reasons it wasn’t so bad that a woman was dead, again, because of mistakes made by him and his team, again.
“My wrist is really gonna hurt while typing tomorrow,” Felicity muttered. “I guess I deserve that.”
Something broke in Oliver at that word as he stared down at Laurel’s long lashes fanned over her cheeks and her blackened lips. “You deserved better.”
“What was that?” Felicity called, the rest of the base falling silent and still.
“I said she deserved better,” Oliver said, speaking at normal volume as he finally turned to face his team. “Laurel deserved better.”
The recruits looked at each other, clearly unsure what to say. Felicity stepped forward. “Yes, our Laurel deserved better, Oliver. And I’m sorry that this other Earth version of her died, but she wouldn’t have hesitated to kill any of us.”
“You put her in a position to,” he reminded her, not nearly so willing as Rory to make excuses. He was tired of protecting Felicity’s innocence when she wouldn’t even defend his actions to the others. “With our Laurel, I can at least lay the ultimate blame for what happened on Darhk. But this? We did this. We have to fix it.”
Felicity recovered herself and asked, “How?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’m gonna find out.” Constantine had gotten back from his trip to Hell months ago. Oliver had the chance to ask his advice this time, something he hadn’t had when they’d lost their Laurel.
Maybe he’d just say it was hopeless. But maybe he wouldn’t. All Oliver knew was, he couldn’t just accept that this had happened. He wanted more for Laurel, even if she wasn’t his.
Oliver got out his phone and stepped away to make the call with one final warning. “Do not touch her while I’m gone.” Then he marched from the room that was silent enough to be this Laurel’s tomb.
---
Felicity was still struggling to process what had happened in the last 48 hours. She had thought her dead friend was back, gotten suspicious that she wasn’t, proved that suspicion was right and then… killed her not-friend?
It sounded horrible like that. She hadn’t meant to kill anyone. She never did! And it had basically been self-defense. The others all agreed.
But Oliver didn’t.
He had been off-center for a while. If Felicity had to put a date on it, she’d say since April. Since Laurel’s death, the real Laurel’s death. And he had only grown more so in the last month or so, since they had all teamed up to fight the Dominators. Maybe it had been from facing Sara for the first time since her sister died. Maybe he was just struggling in his own way to process that they were living in a timeline just slightly to the left of what they’d been living months ago.
But neither of those reasons explained his fanatical need to help this new version of Laurel, to reach her. Was it his Helena Complex rearing its ugly head, or was it simply because she looked like Laurel? If the latter, that did not bode well in Felicity’s eyes at all.
She looked across at the dead woman, recalling her mocking words and the smirk on those now-smudged black lips. How could she hold such a sway on Oliver when they were, for all intents and purposes, strangers? Why did it always have to be Laurel?
“Look, I’m sure this, uh, whoever he’s calling is gonna set him straight,” Curtis offered timidly. “He’s just in shock. I mean, I’m in shock. Honestly? I’d prefer she be alive because I am not gonna be able to sleep tonight knowing I helped—”
“You didn’t help anything. The concrete killed her,” Felicity decided crisply. Black Siren could have tripped in her heeled boots and cracked her head open, and it would have ended the same. It’s not like if this went to court that Felicity would be charged with the first degree. The real Laurel would’ve told her that, probably defended her if it came to that.
“Well, you did help her down to the concrete,” Rene said, not looking all that apologetic when Felicity glared at him.
Oliver re-entered the room then, so they all shut up, and Felicity was dismayed to see the spark of hope in his eyes. “Oliver?”
“There’s other Lazarus Pits.”
Her heart dropped somewhere deep into her stomach. “What?”
“Constantine. He says Ra’s didn’t have the only one. We can bring her back.”
Felicity knew the others were lost — probably wondering what the heck a Lazarus Pit was — but she didn’t care. She marched towards Oliver instead. “No, we can’t. The Pits are dangerous and using them irresponsibly like this — Malcolm warned you about Thea, and you didn’t even want Laurel to use it on Sara!”
“And both Sara and Thea are fine now. We’ll restore Laurel’s soul and get the Lotus.”
“Not even the Lotus is going to cure her wanting to kill me,” she stressed. “I mean, what is the plan after you bring Prometheus’ metahuman lapdog back from the dead, Oliver? Just let her run around screaming people to death?” There probably wouldn’t be much difference between the soulless version and Black Siren in that regard.
Oliver wasn’t even facing her, too busy repacking his quiver. “We will transfer her to a secure ARGUS facility. From there, I can talk to her, try to reach the part of her that has to be like the Laurel we knew.”
“While ordinarily I would love to celebrate this newly optimistic version of you, I think you’re just repeating history here, because this sounds a lot like Helena Bertinelli.”
“This is not about Helena!” He finally snapped, finally facing her, except he was clearly angry, which Felicity hadn’t wanted. “It hasn’t been about Helena in years, and if you didn’t bring her up every time we had an argument, I might have forgotten she was ever part of my life. This is about Laurel, about giving her another chance, believing in her when—” To her surprise, the anger that had been building in him seemed to deflate, and his shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. “When I didn’t before.”
Felicity closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course it was about Laurel. It was always about Laurel. She wouldn’t be surprised if Helena has really just been about Laurel all along.
“When this inevitably goes sideways, I am going to be there to remind you that I told you so.”
“I know you will be,” Oliver said wearily.
“And I’m gonna be there, too,” Curtis piped up unexpectedly. “I have to see this through.”
Oliver gave Curtis nod. “John sent me the location of one of the Pits. We’re meeting him there in two days, so make any arrangements you need. Rene, Rory, keep up your patrols. Thea’s on her way back and should be able to help with any questions or emergencies.”
“Fine by me, Hoss.”
Rory gave a short nod. Felicity has really been hoping for someone to ask Oliver to stay instead.
But here they were again, going on another ill-advised trip to the Lazarus Pits.
---
Oliver was too preoccupied with carrying one end of the makeshift casket they had place Earth-2’s Laurel Lance in to shake John’s hand where they met at the bottom of the mountain in Siberia, but he did say, “Thanks for agreeing to this.”
“What can I say? The pretty girls in your life left an impression on me.”
He heard Felicity’s scoff behind him. He didn’t think Curtis had even registered the remark, too busy muttering under his breath about trying not to focus on the fact he was carrying the other end of a casket.
“Truth is, this helps me as well,” Constantine admitted as they started the trek upwards. “There’s been rumors that bad actors are looking for these Pits since Nanda Parbat’s destruction. Gives me the opportunity to layer at least this one with some protection and concealment magic.”
Oliver nodded. If this meant he and John were still even by the end of this, he wouldn’t complain.
By the time he called for them to veer off the common path, both Felicity and Curtis had put in their fair share of complaints about the climb. Oliver had done his best to ignore both or to keep from pointing out that neither of them had really worn the right shoes for it, though at least Felicity’s boots didn’t have her customary heel.
“Through here,” John instructed, directing them towards a crevice Oliver might have otherwise passed up. It was going to be too tight for the casket.
“Lower it — gently, Curtis!” He scolded, as the other man quickly set his end down with a sigh of relief.
“Sorry.”
Oliver set his own end down and opened the lid. Under the shroud, the body was cold and stiff in his arms. His mind went back to his father, and he fought down the usual wave of nausea.
Inside, a Pit much like the one he had seen in Nanda Parbat bubbled with the mystical waters. Oliver waited as the others all filed in.
“So, what happens now?” Curtis asked?
“Well, last time there was a priest lady who did a chant,” Felicity explained. “Do we need the chant? Does it not work without it?” Oliver couldn’t help noting she seemed hopeful that was the case.
“Nah, that’s just all for show,” Constantine said. “You can lower her in, Oliver.”
He did so slowly, pulling the shroud off as she slid down under the bubbling water. Moments after her head disappeared beneath the surface, the waters stilled.
“Curtis, Felicity, stand back,” Oliver instructed, though Felicity was already doing so.
“Why?”
“If this works, she’s gonna be a little disoriented.”
“Well, you catch her, and I’ve got something to put her to sleep to make the soul retrieval a little easier,” John told him to his left. Oliver nodded, swallowing once as the waters began to roil once again. Here went nothing…
Laurel’s body, rejuvenated and alive, sprung from the water straight over his head. Curtis let out a shriek if terror, and Felicity darted back through the crevice towards the entrance of the cave. Before Laurel’s soulless body could make another move, Oliver seized her from behind, lifting her feet off the floor and getting the whole front of his jacket and pants wet as she struggled to free herself from his hold.
John thrust something under her nose and spoke some sort of incantation. Instantly, she went limp. “There. Not so hard?”
“Nope,” he agreed. Oliver looked down at her. Were she not still wearing the Black Siren suit, he wouldn’t be able to tell a single difference between her and his Laurel. If they had only known about this Pit last year, before they had been forced to announce her death and her identity to the public… he would have to settle for making this right.
Oliver laid her down, this time on the ground far enough from the Pit for John to begin drawing his circle and placing those items only he knew the purpose of. By the time he had finished, Felicity crept back in with a muttered, “It’s freezing out there.”
“Now then, I need at least a volunteer to go with me to the other realm,” Constantine said. “I assume Oliver’s game, but is there anyone who might have known her better?”
“Too bad we couldn’t ask Prometheus,” Felicity snarked.
Oliver just looked her in the eye. “You coming?”
She shook her head. “I can’t even fight.”
He bit back the remark that they wouldn’t be here right now if not for her foray into the field, and instead said, “John and I would take care of it. You would just help to pull her out.” Given it had taken two of them to pull Sara’s soul out of the darkness it had been trapped in, he couldn’t imagine it would be any easier to extricate Black Siren’s soul. “You trust me?”
“Oliver… I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said, one hand raised as she shook her head in denial.
“Okay,” he replied, his voice tight. “Curtis?”
“I think I should stay and stand guard,” Curtis suggested. “In case those other guys that want the Pit show up.”
“Fine,” he bit out. “Let’s go, John.”
“Very well,” his friend said, then raised his hands, his eyes rolling back a little as he spoke in that strange tongue again. Oliver stood over this Laurel and waited for the familiar sensation of being sucked away in a blinding flash of light.
Darkness met him. Oliver blinked, but it didn’t go away. “John?”
“I’m here,” his friend said very close, yet Oliver could not see him. “Damn, I was worried about this.”
“What is this?” He raises his hand up and moved it to touch his face, and still he couldn’t see it.
“You said this was a Laurel from another Earth. I think her soul must have fallen out of our vibrational frequency. I don’t think we can reach her.”
“What, there’s just nothing here?” That couldn’t be it. There had to be something, some way to do more. If it was vibrations, maybe they just needed Cisco.
“I’m sorry,” John started to say, but Oliver shushed him as he heard another voice far off in the distance.
“Ollie?”
“Did you hear that?” He asked bear a whisper.
“Hear what?”
They both listened. The silence seemed to stretch on an age before it was broken, so much so he had started to wonder if he’d made it up.
“Ollie?” The voice asked again, and there was no mistaking it this time. Oliver’s heart leapt.
“She’s still here,” he said, and started walking towards it, almost wading through the strange darkness. “Laurel?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m coming to you. Just keep talking.”
“Oliver! Don’t go too far.”
But he couldn’t heed John’s warning, not when he was so close. He reached and reached out, no even able to see his hands through the unending darkness, not until he suddenly stepped through what could have only been a barrier of some kind separating the inky black space from here, in the light.
It was a cosy studio apartment that met his eyes. A desk stood against one wall piled high with work while a punching bag hung in the opposite corner. Candles sat in the fireplace, and Laurel herself stood in the center of the room as if she had just risen from the couch.
“How did you…?” She seemed just as stunned to see him as he was to see this.
He had expected a fight, some kind of representation of the pipeline or Prometheus or Zoom. What did it mean that this was her soul? Was he right that beneath all the snark and the cruelty, there was someone like the Laurel he had loved and lost?
“You’re going to need to come with me,” he said, holding his hand out, and to his disbelief she took it without argument.
“But what are you doing here?” Almost without argument, then. Trust Laurel.
“To make things right. I’m sorry for what happened with Felicity.”
Her mouth fell open, though she said nothing. Oliver wondered if she had forgotten what had happened here in this place, if death was that kind.
He had begun walking backward the way he’d come, and she went with him. Rather than return to the total darkness, however, it was almost like the light from the room he had found her in followed them, lighting their way just a few inches ahead at a time.
“Oliver, where the bloody hell are you?” John’s voice called from up ahead, apparently still stuck in the dark. “I have to take us back now!”
“Then do it, John! I found her!” He shouted back. “We can go home!”
“Was that Constantine?” Laurel asked, and the satisfied grin on his face slipped.
“How do you know who Constantine is?”
Laurel — and it struck him then just how much like Laurel she truly looked and sounded — opened her mouth, but there was a blinding flash of white light, and Oliver found himself blinking the spots from his vision and standing in the cave again.
On the ground, Laurel blinked and slowly sat up, looking down at herself in clear disorientation.
“Well, not sure how we managed it, but another successful restoration,” John said.
“Congratulations,” Felicity remarked dryly. “We should definitely cuff her now.”
Oliver placed a hand on Curtis’ shoulder to block him when he came up with the meta cuffs. “I’m not sure we did exactly what we meant to.”
Laurel coughed a couple times and asked, “How did we get here, and who put me in these clothes?”
“We did something better,” he said quietly, a smile blooming on his face as she turned her gaze towards him.
“Fishnets, Ollie. Really?”
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my-words-are-light · 5 years ago
Text
Watch Where You’re Flying
Hey @sai-shou! Happy birthday! I wanted to write something for you, except it’s not really that good because I had trouble pushing myself to write it. Or anything at all, really... but I wanted to make something for you. You’re amazing, you really are. All these birthday wishes, so full of love, and all this admiration... you earned it, and you earned it because you were you.
I wanted to do something for you as well, to celebrate your birthday and show you how much you truly matter to all of us. You’re so much better than you say you are and you’re growing so fast. You never stop amazing all of us. Keep doing the best you can. We believe in you. We all do.
We love you, and miss you, so very much. Have a happy birthday.
-----
A little birdie has just told me that a policewoman is looking for sirens. Why don’t you hurry on over and give him a hand?
So went the call that Amelia Eamon received from Kevin Runan, her... “employer” at Goldcrown. And, as of a few weeks ago, her sister’s—Faith Eamon—as well. They both knew as well as each other that they were in no position to say no. What else was left to do but to go check it out?
Keeping their siren masks in their jackets, the Eamon sisters departed to where Kevin told them to go. This would be fine. They could endure. All they had to do was keep it up.
They found the policewoman on the side of the road, her car parked while she paced back and forth with her hands clutching her hair. This must’ve been urgent. Amelia and Faith approached the officer. “Uh, hey, are you alright?” asked Amelia.
“Ah, hey.” The policewoman ran her hand down her face and sighed. “No, not really. Why?”
Amelia and Faith glanced at each other. In silent agreement, they pulled out their masks. It was obvious they were siren masks. Anyone in law enforcement would know that. Each one was custom made for its wearer, from its shape to its colour. “We, uh, heard you needed sirens,” said Amelia.
The officer stared at the masks for a tense, awkward moment. Amelia and Faith knew this was a risk, yet they had to take it.
“Um,” said the officer, “I don’t know where you heard that but… I meant police sirens. Like, for my car.” She pointed a thumb at the top of her car. “Mine are busted.”
Amelia and Faith looked at the apparently broken sirens. Indeed, they were also called ‘sirens’. The thought suddenly occurred that they could’ve been called by a sailor who would then have to clarify that they meant the seaborne sort of ‘siren’. That thought occurred to them in a futile bid to distract them from their massive embarrassment.
“Oh,” said Amelia. “Well, my mistake. I am so sorry. I got the entirely wrong idea.”
“It’s all good. Gave me a bit of humour in this, uh… circumstance.” The officer grunted. “Long story short, I’ve places I need to be. Crime places. And I need to be there urgently. Problem is, regulations forbid officers from engaging in a criminal pursuit with a vehicle without using sirens. As mine are busted, I’m going to cop an earful from my bosses for something that isn’t my fault.”
“I know that feeling...” Amelia muttered under her breath.
“So yeah. Not going anywhere.”
“Don’t you have spare sirens or something like that?” asked Faith.
“No, we don’t prepare for stuff like this. I’m supposed to wait until mechanics come by to patch up the sirens and then I’m good to go. Problem is, I have no idea when they’re supposed to show up, or even if they know this is urgent. I’m screwed.”
Faith looked at Amelia.
Amelia looked back.
Faith grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.
Amelia’s eyes widened in fear.
Faith widened her grin and wiggled her eyebrows faster.
Amelia shook her head softly from side to side.
Faith turned back to the policewoman. “What about us?”
Amelia bit her lip.
The officer looked at Faith. “What about you?”
“You need sirens, right?” asked Faith.
Amelia began hissing under her breath.
“Uh, yeah,” said the officer.
“Well, we right here are sirens,” said Faith proudly.
Amelia clenched her teeth.
“… You certainly are,” said the officer.
Faith crossed her arms. “So how about you use us as sirens for your car?”
Amelia let out a sound that part growl, part cry, part whimper, and part sigh. I will leave to the reader the task of figuring out the exact proportions of each.
The officer blinked several times. “I don’t follow.”
Faith clapped her hands together. “Tie us to the roof of your car and we’ll replace your sirens.”
Amelia dragged her hands down her face. Some unholy sound came from her, muffled by her palms as they descended.
The officer blinked.
Faith smiled.
Amelia kept making that strange, horrible sound.
Finally, the officer spoke. “What?”
Faith kept smiling.
The officer blinked. “No. What?”
Faith raised an eyebrow.
The officer’s jaw fell open. “What? No. No! What? No!” She walked over to her car and slammed her hands on the roof, shaking her head in silence.
She pushed herself away from the car and turned back to the Eamon sisters. “No! What? No! Absolutely not! Out of the question! How do you even think of something like that?”
“Boredom and synonyms make for good wordplay,” said Faith. “Also, our masks glow.”
“Well good for you! I’m not strapping two girls to my car which is probably going to go at ludicrously high speeds to only get semantically get around a regulation! I could get you killed!”
Faith put up her hands flat. “Fine. Enjoy waiting for those mechanics while criminals crime.”
The policewoman grunted and paced around more forcefully. After several seconds of this, she looked back at the sisters. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms.
“I hope you’re not seriously contemplating this,” asked Amelia.
The officer’s face relaxed in resignation. “I am, in fact, seriously contemplating this.”
Amelia gulped. “Well I hope you’re not seriously going to take her up on her idea.”
---
She did, in fact, seriously take her up on her idea.
“Faith!” screamed Amelia over the traffic.
“What?” called back Faith.
“I’m going to kill you!”
“What?”
Amelia, sadly, could not kill her sister at that point in time because they were tied to the roof of the policewoman’s car, wearing their glowing siren masks while the policewoman drove along the busy highway, harshly growling curses that the Eamon sisters could barely hear.
“Wee woo wee woo wee woo!” Faith sounded, grinning like an idiot.
“Are you kidding me…?” muttered Amelia.
Faith looked at her sister and giggled. Amelia had to admit, this was so silly and stupid that it went back around to being fun. They hadn’t done something this childish in… years. And, what with Kevin breathing down their necks, there was something both relieving and empowering in this.
Amelia gave up. “Wee woo.”
“There we go!” cheered Faith.
Thinking back on their childhood, the sisters remembered a song they were taught in school.
“The owl flaps its wings as it flies through the night
Woo wee woo wee woo wee woo
The firetruck drives so fast towards fires to fight
Wee woo wee woo wee woo wee
The tree...”
That was was far as the sisters could get before they broke down in laughter. If they weren’t tightly secured to the roof of the car, they would’ve fallen off.
Not that the policewoman’s driving was helping. She was getting more and more erratic; the car was swerving all over the road.
Since this had gotten to the point where it could be a legitimate hazard, Amelia cut the rope with a knife she kept concealed and crawled over the side of the car. “Hey, are you drunk or...”
Amelia’s voice died in her throat, which was a far better fate than the policewoman was going through right now. She was slumped against the wheel, completely lifeless. It was like… her soul was sucked out of her.
Amelia sat up. Sirens drained life from others. Anyone with a siren mask could do it. Yet Amelia and Faith were the only sirens nearby. But how? Sirens could only drain one’s lifeforce through singing, and they weren’t…
… Except for that nursery rhyme.
Amelia turned back to Faith. “I think we sucked her soul out!”
“What?!” called Faith.
“I said—”
“I heard you the first time! I was in disbelief!”
In the next half-second, it sunk in that they were sitting atop an out of control police car with a woman they might as well have killed (until they give her back her life force) in the driver’s seat on a busy highway with lots of traffic.
The sisters screamed as Amelia handed Faith her knife to cut herself free and Amelia—
---
“Stop,” said Kevin Runan, holding out his hand flat to Faith. “Just… stop. Please. No more.”
Amelia and Faith were sitting in Kevin’s office. After that… ‘hectic’ afternoon, the sisters were summoned to explain themselves and everything else that transpired from when he sent them the message.
Roughly ten minutes in, Kevin had had enough. He massaged his temples. “Okay. This is my responsibility. I caused this by dispatching two very desperate sirens to work that I misinterpreted and forwarded along.”
Kevin took a breath. He then slammed his hands on his desk. “But why would you go along with something so stupid?! Why would you wear your masks?! Why would you sing?!”
“It was her idea,” said Amelia, pointing to her sister.
“Snitch,” grunted Faith.
“I don’t care whose fault it was!” yelled Kevin. “The moment you realised that they didn’t mean the ‘you’ kind of siren, you should have left! If I had known this would’ve happened, I would’ve tied you up in your own home and turned on the TV so you wouldn’t have gone!”
“You could’ve also not sent the message at all,” said Faith. “We would’ve stayed home then.”
“Shut up! I had to pull way too many favours just to get you both out of trouble! Do you have any idea how badly this could’ve harmed Goldcrown?! I had to bribe witnesses! Police! Prosecutors! Highway patrols! There were a lot of those, I guarantee you!”
Kevin slumped onto his desk. “So much money. I can’t believe it. We’re all fools...”
The office was quiet, for the Eamon sisters knew better than to disturb Kevin when he was in one of his despondent moods.
He lifted his head up to glare at the girls. “And you still sung that Wee Woo song afterwards?”
“Do not get me started on that stupid song!” snapped Amelia.
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kenzieam · 4 years ago
Text
Beauty and the Blackheart - Chapter Two
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@jewels2876​​​  @moonbeambucky​​  @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​​​  @iammarylastar​​​@captstefanbrandt​​​  @badassbaker​​​  @pinknerdpanda​​​  
I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.
************************************************************************
Rating: M
Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut
************************************************************************
Okay, so......
Lev, the serious one, is visiting her wild-child twin brother, Clint. There she meets Bucky, a tall, dark, brooding mystery who’s her total opposite in every way. Of course, she’s intrigued even as her mind screams to run for safety, but what could go wrong, right??
***********************************************************************
Lev glanced up from the elevated counter in front of her and grinned as a familiar face pushed open the door and entered.
“Hey Spider,” she called, genuinely happy to see the man.
“Hey, little lady. How are you?” The biker called back, chains rattling as he moved.
“Getting by.”
“I see that, looking fine this morning, honey.”
Lev smirked mildly at him. A shameless flirt, Spider was harmless, totally devoted to his ol’ lady, Sparkle, but guaranteed to throw out little tidbits like this on the regular just to make the recipient red.
“Your head’s looking mighty shiny this morning, handsome.” Lev lobbed back, enjoying the now familiar game between her and the shop’s frequent flyer. He belonged to a genuine motorcycle club, yet still found time to pop into Blackheart every few days for something. Lev figured he liked the conversation, he and Clint got on like a house afire.
He tipped a salute then glanced over the front of the shop. “Buck around?”
“Haven’t seen him yet.” Lev had sort of fallen into the role of temporary front-end manager and had spent the last two weeks managing appointments, payments and supply ordering for Blackheart Ink.
Only a few days after Lev's arrival, Nat’s father, according to Nat a batshit old man who had no goddamn common sense, had fallen off a ladder while attempting to install a birdhouse on a towering pole in his backyard for her mother and broken a decent amount of bones. Also, according to Nat, her daddy, while having no sense of self-preservation, fortunately healed rather quickly from his varied injuries and boo-boos over the years. Regardless, Nat had been torn, with Lev offering to fill in at the shop so Nat could go home and help until her father was back on his feet.
After a few trying days, Lev found she liked helping, greeting and laughing with regulars, fielding phone calls, bantering with the boys.
Steve was hilarious, and an unapologetic big brother, displaying a heart-warming amount of concern and affection for Lev right from the start, like she was just another little sister, even defending her from her own twin sometimes, letting her hide behind him as Clint spazzed randomly, suddenly convinced that Lev needed a Sonic the Hedgehog tattooed on her wrist, or that she would look great with that new sparkly pink tongue post they’d just brought in and he’d chased her around the shop waving a clamp.
It was fun to add the big guy in on their games and life at the shop was never boring, Lev even found herself relaxing her stringent boundaries, the rules she usually lived by. She still was a long way off from her fun and free-spirited brother however, and never did that seem more obvious than the rare times Bucky interacted with her.
He remained a lurking shadow most of the time, loosening up around his friends and regular customers, but he seemed to have taken Lev stepping in to help as a personal attack, alternating between glowering at her and outright ignoring her.
In truth, Lev preferred being ignored, for when he did turn those intense eyes on her, Lev felt out of control, little sparks racing under her skin, a set of butterflies suddenly alive in her belly.
And wasn’t that just a big old hot mess.
They were polar opposites. Bucky seemed to live on coffee, while Lev limited herself severely. He smoked like a chimney, both tobacco and pot, while Lev had seen too many blackened lungs in Anatomy class to ever partake. The only green thing she’d seen near his mouth was the lettuce of the fast-food burgers he wolfed down, and he’d never even heard of edamame, staring at Lev’s lunch bento one day like it was toxic waste. In addition, he had a filthy mouth, peppering all conversations with liberal f-bombs, squinting in confusion at Lev when she grumbled something along the lines of ‘for Pete’s sake’ after spilling her water, not able to comprehend an exclamation that didn’t rhyme with ‘duck’.
He’d never outright said it to her, but the thought radiated from him like body heat, ‘what a fucking princess’.
And the girls! It seemed every night there was some new one strutting into the shop near closing, cooing his name, ready to head over to the bar down the street, then no doubt back to his house for wild sex.
They were all tall, hot and polished, wearing dresses wrapped tighter than ace bandages around their pert little asses and surgically enhanced breasts, eyeing Lev derisively as they passed her desk. Dismissing her with a sniff, already looking past her for the object of their attention.
Lev tried not to look, but Jesus, it seemed whenever Bucky would emerge from the back, having heard his newest siren’s call, that the woman would launch herself at him, start devouring his face and he just went with it. Catching them and slamming them against a wall, grabbing their faces to angle their mouths for a deeper kiss, making them moan and whimper his name.
Lev wondered idly if this was done for her benefit, if Bucky hated her so much that he was trying to make her uncomfortable enough to leave except for, beyond a derisive snort or slap on his shoulder, Steve and Clint seemed to be used to and tolerate his manwhore ways, or had at least learned to ignore them.
“You alright?” Steve had asked a few days ago, as Tiffany or Amber or who-the-fuck-ever swallowed Bucky’s tongue in full view of the desk, for the door to the supply room had swung back open after Bucky had slammed it shut while lurching inside with his newest spider monkey. His eyes trekked warily from the display back to Lev, forehead furrowed in concern as he studied her face. “I can tell him to fuck off, you know. He doesn’t need to be-”
“It’s fine.” Lev replied breezily, although she felt anything but. This wasn’t her permanent job, and Bucky was nothing and nobody to her. “It’s his shop.”
Steve studied her quietly, seemed about to say more. Sure, it was his shop and he’d been pulling this shit for years and Steve and Clint had learned to ignore it, but that didn’t make it right, especially with someone so… pure as Lev nearby.
“He’s-” Steve broke off, rubbing his chin. “Buck’s complicated-”
“He’s a whore.” Lev startled slightly, surprised at the venom behind her words. Again, WHY THE FUCK did it matter to her?
Steve shrugged, a hint of sadness curving his lips downward. He didn’t elaborate and Lev sensed there was a story there but it hardly mattered. Nat would be back soon, and Lev would go home and start practicing medicine for real and eventually she’d meet her own Prince Charming and Bucky could stay here, his cock rotting off from whatever STD he’d finally caught.
“Hey Spider.” A deep voice suddenly called, startling Lev out of her thoughts. Bucky lumbered into her peripheral, a genuine smile on his face as he greeted the other man. “Head on back, I’m all set up.” He gestured for Spider to pass then turned to face Lev. Any geniality in his voice died, all light left his eyes.
“You’re fucking up my appointments.”
Lev stared wordlessly, trying to think back on what she could have possibly messed up. Exasperated, Bucky strode to the elevated counter and reached over, his height making it easy and all but ripped the appointment book out from under her hands. He stabbed a thick finger at tomorrow’s first appointment.
“A memorial tat first thing in the goddamn morning?” He hissed.
Lev was thoroughly confused. ‘First thing’ at Blackheart was 11 am, how the hell was that the ass-crack of dawn?
“And a goddamn ‘memorial’ tattoo? What, some crying housewife wailing about her daddy dying? Wanting a set of angel wings and ‘always in my heart’ floating above it?”
Now Lev saw red. As a trauma resident, she dealt with death on the regular, grief was not something she took lightly.
“Fuck you.” She hissed, too angry to realize what she’d just said, for one of the first times in her buttoned-up life. “A memorial tattoo isn’t hardcore enough for you? You’re too fucking hungover from the night before to make it in that early, when the rest of the civilized world has been up and contributing to society for hours already? Or are you just too sore from fucking whatever whore you dragged home? These are important to people, Bucky. It’s family that they don’t have anymore and they’re trusting you to immortalize what they’ve lost! In my opinion there’s no greater honor to imbed something like that permanently into someone’s skin! You don’t want any bullshit angel wings any more then fucking tell me like a decent fucking person, you fucking dickhead!” She slammed her hand down on the book to illustrate, the sound sharp like a slap in the silent room.
Lev broke off, breathing hard, her pulse racing. She’d never, never lost control like that before and she’d just sworn more in the last two minutes than she had her whole adult life.
Bucky eyed her appraisingly, he didn’t look mad per se, but she’d definitely surprised him, and he looked torn between snarling back and just ignoring her again.
His lip twitched and Lev expected him to open his mouth and start bellowing but he grinned. It was fast, gone in a flash as though it had escaped in a moment of weakness but, for a heartbeat, he’d done something other than glower at her.
“Duly noted, princess.” He drawled, then the curtain seemed to fall over his eyes and Lev became the invisible girl again, staring after him in shock as he turned and strode away, slamming the door of his room behind him.
****************************************************************************
The next morning Lev shifted her weight nervously, fingers curling as she studied the appointment book. The memorial client Bucky had chewed her out for yesterday was due any minute and Lev didn’t know what to do. Bucky hadn’t expressly told her he wouldn’t do the tat, so she couldn’t move the woman to another artist, but she was awfully tempted to head off the lady the moment she walked in with some excuse about Bucky needing to cancel last minute and saving her from dealing with him and his shitty attitude.
While she regretted her loss of temper and foul language, Lev didn’t regret tearing a strip off the man yesterday. Bucky had needed a wake-up call but the way he’d reacted still made her shiver and she wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. The door chimed as it opened and Lev inhaled sharply, trying to decide what to do. The woman was older middle-aged, soft and wholesome looking, greying hair in a low bun, the very last person you’d expect to get inked.
Great, not only was this woman here for a memorial tattoo, but it was most likely her first one. What an introduction, being shepherded into the world of body art by King Asshole himself.
This wasn’t her business, this wasn’t even her real job, she had no right or power to do anything about it but she couldn’t let this woman walk into her appointment thinking Bucky was going to give her his best when he’d already shown he wouldn’t.
“Hello, I know you’re here for-”
“Good Morning.” A honeyed voice overrode hers and Lev startled, snapping her head sideways. Bucky appeared in her peripheral vision, smiling charmingly.
“You must be my eleven o’clock.”
The woman actually giggled, already enchanted and Lev gaped, stunned by the turn of events. Where the hell was the growling, miserable bastard she’d dealt with yesterday? Who’d ignored her all day after their angry encounter?
Had he trimmed his beard?
Lev didn’t even realize he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have holes in them, yet this pair looked…. Good. Shit, she hadn’t really paid attention before, put off by his general aura, but Bucky had an amazing pair of thighs, muscular and straining his jeans in the best way. And don’t even get her started on the way his plain black t-shirt stretched over his chest, back and shoulders.
Jesus.
Lev winced, shocked by her internal monologue as Bucky gestured the woman past him, flicking an indecipherable glance at Lev before following her to his room, the door closing quietly behind him. Within moments, one of Bucky’s more mild playlists began to play lowly, filling the air with the mellow first notes of ‘Crying Shame’ by The Teskey Brothers.
The phone rang then, jarring Lev from any more speculation and she nearly dropped the receiver before answering, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Blackheart Ink and Body Mod, this is Lev, how can I help you?”
***************************************************************************
The surrealness continued, with none of Bucky’s usual hard rock/metal music, instead James Blunt’s ‘Bonfire Heart’ following ‘Crying Shame’ and Lev wondered what the hell was going on. Clint, who unlike his friend, had no trouble working early, had been in his room since 9:30, working on a special client currently on leave who wanted an intricate sleeve done before he was deployed again, merely grabbing a second can of Monster from the back fridge this morning to tide him over and Lev didn’t expect to see him for another few hours still. Steve wasn’t due in until 2 or 3 o’clock, having taken the morning off and there were no walk-ins yet to worry about.
She busied herself for a bit cleaning the display case for body jewelry and a tiny little voice in the back of her mind began to muse about what it would be like to maybe, just maybe, pop her cherry and get a piercing. Lev literally had none to speak of, not even her ears were pierced, and she had found herself wondering more and more in the last week what it would be like to sit for the needle, feel Bucky’s breath on her face as he leaned close to mark the place on her skin, the quiet concentration setting his jaw just so; for while Bucky was a bastard, he took body piercing seriously and never seemed to show attitude, even for basic ones, the giggling girls queuing up for naval studs, or nose rings.
Bucky’s new playlist continued, and Lev was pleasantly surprised by the contents. Was this a hidden side she hadn’t seen yet, or was he in some way taking the piss?
Her thoughts were so jumbled around this man and she hated feeling confused. But either way, regardless of what she thought and felt, it didn’t matter. She was leaving soon, going back to her real life and, even if she wasn’t, they were too different.
He was fire, she was ice.
What business did a doctor have with a tattoo artist, and she didn’t mean any kind of bullshit class structure. They were literally opposite ends of the spectrum, a deductive job of reasoning and knowledge versus one of artistic talent and freedom.
And, even if their careers were somehow compatible, their personalities definitely were not. Lev felt vaguely inferior around Bucky, as if by foregoing fun for structure made her less than him somehow. He looked down on her, dismissed her as a princess, and while she wasn’t free from guilt, believing him to be mannerless prick, she couldn’t shake the disappointment of somehow having failed with Bucky.
The door to Bucky’s room opened suddenly, and Lev startled, looking up to see that an hour had already passed, before realizing that the woman was in tears.
Oh shit.
Lev felt a bolt of panic, eyes wide, as her mind raced. What had he said to her?
The woman headed her way, with Bucky trailing slowly behind and Lev braced herself, words of apology jumbling in her mind. But, as she approached, Lev saw that the woman was smiling through her tears, it was a joyful crying, not a sorrowful one.
“Look,” the woman called. Reaching for Lev she turned to expose the back of her shoulder, pointing excitedly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Lev looked down, down to the woman’s pale, soft skin. Although covered by a clear bandage, Lev could see that, indeed, the tattoo was beautiful. A trio of African Violets, so realistic and lifelike, with the simple word, ‘Forever’ underneath. While not a huge tattoo, it looked like a goddamn picture, three-dimensional and perfect; easily the most beautiful ink Lev had ever seen.
“My husband loved violets; I grew them for him. Our house and garden were full.” The woman sniffled, pulling a tissue from her pocket. Bucky had stepped to within a few feet of the women and, if Lev had looked up, she would have noticed that he was locked on her, watching her every reaction to this woman and her story. “After he died…. I couldn’t grow them anymore. Not that I didn’t want to, but I literally couldn’t. They wouldn’t grow for me anymore, its like he took them with him when he left.” She sniffled, hard, and Lev felt like crying herself. “These are my violets now; I get to keep them with me forever.”
Lev swallowed her tears, knowing that if she started, she’d never be able to finish for, even though she was serious and disciplined, in her heart of hearts, she secretly wanted a love like what this woman had had too, a connection that transcended death. A tear escaped anyway, trailing down her cheek and she wiped at it before it started a tsunami.
“That’s wonderful.”
The woman smiled, looking suddenly lighter, a glow about her. “I have to go; I must show my daughter!” She whirled and, before anyone could react, grabbed Bucky in a tight hug. If he was surprised, he hid it well, hugging her back and whispering something to her, then pulling away almost brusquely. He held up two fingers to Lev, indicating his fee then whirled, disappearing back into his room.
“What a lovely man.” The woman gushed, following a stunned Lev as she returned to the counter. “So gentle and polite! He listened to me ramble and gave me exactly what I wanted. My daughter will be in next, just you watch, wanting the same thing!” She added on a huge tip, and all but floated out of the shop, leaving a gobsmacked Lev in her wake.
Lev stared at the money for a beat, then carefully divided it, adding to the till the shop’s cut before stacking the rest in the little pirate’s treasure chest marked ‘Barnes’ hidden under the edge of the counter. Taking a pencil, she crossed out the appointment in the book then just stood there for a moment, unsure what to do next.
But before she could figure out her next move, Lev felt heat at her back, a body move close. She froze, realizing Bucky stood directly behind her, his chest inches from her back and her heart started galloping. His spicy masculine musk surrounded her as he lowered his head over her shoulder, some of the hair that escaped his man bun brushing her cheek.
She held her breath, feeling a crazed mix of fear and exhilaration. Was he going to yell at her, kiss her?
He paused, as if savouring the moment, or maybe the scent of Lev’s fear and breathed out. His exhale was slightly unsteady, as if it pained him then he spoke, his voice so low that she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he weren’t mere inches away.
“You were right.”
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bfwa · 5 years ago
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Angst Fics Over 8,000 Words - Round 1 Winners
Moderation by @bettsfic
Step 9: Make amends with those we have harmed.
Clarke was the love of Bellamy's life, but he fucked it up, and now, a decade later and three years sober, she's at the top of his list. How can he even begin to make amends for the things he did?
I Don't Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now) by @talistheintrovert
“What was the worst part?” Raven asked.
“Probably when he shoved me against a wall and stuck his tongue down my throat,” Clarke admitted, sipping her hot chocolate, which she quickly realised was spiked with rum. God, her friends were perfect.
Octavia and Raven both gasped, but it was Bellamy’s reaction that she found the most interesting. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look up from his book, or even alter his expression, but his hand balled into a fist on the arm of his chair.
Rewrite the Stars by @pawprinterfanfic
After months of being broken up, Clarke and Bellamy have been reassigned to finish one of their old cases. Things are hard enough with having her ex as her partner again, but the fact she's still totally into him makes things more complicated.
Did she mention the fact that she is also reliving the same day over and over?
Things are about to get messy.
Where the Light Won't Find You by @asroarke
“So, I don’t know how to ask this,” he whispered, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut. “It’s not my business, and it’s not like you and I are even friends.”
He wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t overheard Clarke talking to Marcus about Finn. Most people noticed something was off about Clarke and Finn, but it always got attributed to Clarke being the bitch that broke Finn’s heart. All anyone saw was that Finn still loved Clarke and was doing whatever it took to win her back, but she wouldn’t give him the time of day. And that would have been Bellamy’s assumption if he hadn’t overheard a brief glimmer of the truth.
“What happened?”
A high school AU inspired by a true story.
Simple Pleasures by @pawprinterfanfic
Clarke is a medic from District 6. More importantly, she’s a dangerous criminal in the eyes of the Capitol. It isn’t a surprise when she is reaped for the 45th Hunger Games; it’s the only way for the Capitol to silence her.
Bellamy spent his life protecting his younger sister. When Octavia volunteers for the Games to honour their district, he knows it’s his responsibility to follow her into the arena. He would give anything for her to become the Victor, even his safety.
When they meet in the Capitol, Clarke can’t deny the connection she feels to him. He makes her feel more than a sacrifice. He makes her feel hope. She knows it’s dangerous to trust others, especially when in the arena, but why deny herself some final few simple pleasures?
Devil Side by @eyessharpweaponshot
Bellamy and Clarke face the end of the world but with their fears just at the other side of the door, they need to close their eyes and trust one another to make it out - together.
Or the Bird Box AU no-one asked for.
Drag Me Down by @asroarke
She lived.
And for that, Bellamy has never stopped being punished.
A siren AU where Bellamy becomes human and accidentally stumbles onto the very human he failed to kill all those years ago.
The Art of Scraping Through by @bettsfic
“Can you share a little bit about why you’re here?” Marcus asks.
From afar, Bellamy looked strong and stern, but now, hearing him speak, you can feel his fragility, like crystal waiting for a sonic boom. “I’m a paramedic. We live in the opioid capital of the country. You can put the rest together."
You feel a wash of shame — this place is meant for people like him, not you. You who have never truly suffered, who have always been fed and clothed and educated. Across from you sits a man who has seen many deaths, and here you are, crazy from the pressure of good grades and being pretty. You make yourself sick.
the way we used to be by @hawthornewhisperer
Clarke decides there's only one way to get over Bellamy:
fucking him one last time.
Hold me still by @jasperjoordan
For the prompt: “I can’t see, what’s happening to me?”
Atone by @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky
When they make it to the new planet, Clarke tells herself it’s a fresh start. But she feels so separated from everyone, as if she’s a few seconds behind everyone else. When the idea of sending a search party out to explore how dangerous the new planet is, is suggested, Clarke sneaks out to explore herself to save people from any danger.
The trek takes a turn for the worse when she discovers the planet isn’t as friendly as they had hoped. A quick scouting mission turns into a fight for survival as Clarke tries to work through what she’s done – even if it means giving her life.
To All the Dead I've Grieved Before by @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky
The first one visited her the first week they landed on the new planet.
Clarke considered herself a relatively stable person. The years had wore her down, sure, but she found pockets of happiness whenever she could. Whether it be the feeling when you dip your toes into water, or the weight of a pencil in a hand.
Everything on the new planet is as good as Clarke could've ever hoped for: relatively uneventful. The landing site was slowly being built into a city, their Eligius neighbors were cautiously friendly. Everything is quieting down for the first time since she can remember. Except when she sees her father one day - real, tangible, and talking - Clarke begins to wonder if losing everything over and over again made her finally lose the one thing she's kept hold to over all these years: her mind.
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family-business-one-shots · 6 years ago
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14x13 Coda - Daddy Issues
Relationship: Winchesters x Sister, John x Daughter
Words: 3,140
A/N: I worked on this like nonstop yesterday so I hope y’all like it! I’m very glad my muse allowed me to finally write something again. If anyone wants another part to this let me know and I’ll see what I can do!
Background info: the reader is Sam’s older twin sister. She let Lucifer free and she said yes instead of Sam. Just figured I’d give her some of the action
***
“Guys, I think this is it,” said Sam. He was holding the small milky orb in his hand, surrounded by the open leather bag it had been in.
“The pearl?” Dean asked.
“Yeah.”
You came up behind Sam, looking over his shoulder curiously. “Doesn’t look like much.”
“Well, our line of work, you can’t always trust appearances, huh?” Dean said. He took a deep breath, then looked at you and Sam, determined. “Let’s do it.”
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure you don’t wanna call Mom or wait for Cas?”
“No.” Putting his beer on the table, Dean stood up. “‘Cause if this mojo works like you said, great. If not… why get their hopes up?”
Your heart broke at his expression; Dean looked like he was trying not to get his own hopes up too high. This whole Michael deal had been horrible on all of you, but you couldn’t even imagine how Dean was dealing with it, if he was dealing with it at all. You passed behind Sam and stood between your brothers, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder.
“It’s gonna work, Dean,” you assured him. “It will.”
His only response was a solemn nod.
Sam carefully gave Dean the bundle in his hands. The pearl caught the light from overhead as it moved in front of you, shining brighter than it had been a moment ago. Then you blinked and it was gone. Not entirely normal, but you shrugged it off—since when were your lives normal?
“So, what do I—?”
“I don’t know, I guess you hold the pearl and concentrate on what your heart desires,” Sam suggested, but he didn’t seem so sure.
“Michael outta my head,” said Dean. “Got it.”
A little apprehensive, he grabbed the pearl with his fingers and held it up. His eyes darted to Sam, who just shrugged, and then to you. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it got lost along the way, resembling more of a grimace. Dean rolled the pearl into the palm of his hand, closed his fist around it, and shut his eyes, concentration etched in his tired features.
Suddenly, the lights started flickering and a crackling noise filled the air. Your hand instinctively flew to your gun tucked in your jeans, fingers fluttering over the polished handle. The lights shut off entirely, bathing the three of you in the deep red of the emergency lights.
A few feet away stood a shadow that hadn’t been there before.
It lunged forward and attacked Sam. Sam fought back as much as he could, but in the dark, it was too difficult to land any good hits. The intruder shoved him backward and turned to you.
Your gun was already in the air, but the shadow was quick. Something hard smacked your wrists. The pain made you drop your gun and it clattered to the floor. You had just enough time to catch the outline of the shadow—tall, bulky, eerily familiar—before you too were on the ground, your head colliding with the stone column behind you with a smack.
Stars danced across your vision, twirling and spinning and making you painfully nauseous. The ringing in your ears sounded more like a blaring siren. Breathing through your nose, you tried to get your bearings again when the lights came back on. You raised your eyes to get a look at the person who’d attacked you, but everything was too bright. The pounding in your head crescendoed and you forced your gaze back to the wooden floor.
“Dad?”
What?
That sure as hell got your attention.
Pushing through the wave of nausea, you squinted up at the towering figure. Sure enough, John Winchester was standing in front of you, gun pointed at Dean. He looked exactly like you remembered him, down to the last scar and wrinkle.
A chill ran down your spine.
It wasn’t possible. He’d—he’d died. He had been dead for over a decade. Coming back from the dead wasn’t unheard of for you and the boys, by any means, but why did it have to be him?
“Dean?” His gaze traveled across the floor, finding you and your brother. “Y/N? Sam? What in the hell?”
Sam stood up slowly, staring fixedly at your father. Dean grabbed your arm and helped you to your feet, supporting your weight when you started swaying slightly.
Definitely a concussion.
“Sammy? Aren’t you supposed to be in Palo Alto?” John asked.
“Palo Alto?” Sam repeated, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
Why would Sam be in—
Stanford. Stanford was in Palo Alto. But Sam hadn’t been at Stanford since Jess died, and that was ages ago.
John’s voice was laced with concern, probably the most you’d ever heard in your life. “What happened to you?”
“What—” you tried to say, but your stomach churned. You paused for a second to take a breath before croaking out, “What year is it?”
John scoffed—typical Dad. “It’s 2003.”
“It’s 2019,” Sam told him.
“No,” John breathed in disbelief. “How?”
Before he could get his explanation, you opened your mouth. “This is a fantastic family reunion and all, but I’m pretty sure you’re about to see my lunch, so Dean could you—?”
He was already moving. Taking most of your weight, he helped you out of the library and into the kitchen. Dean sat you down at the wooden table and in no time, he brought you water, aspirin, and an ice pack. You gave him a grateful smile as you swallowed the aspirin and chased it down with the water.
“You good?” he asked.
Nodding, you picked up the ice pack and gently placed it on the part of your head that was throbbing the most. “Peachy.”
The two of you were silent for a moment, both lost in your own worlds. You couldn’t shake the things that crept into your mind, ideas and musings you hadn’t ruminated on in too many years. These were the thoughts of a twenty-two-year-old kid who was angry and bitter, who’d been dealt the worst hand in every situation. You weren’t that kid anymore, and you hadn’t been in a long time, but at that moment, it sure felt like you were.
Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face, making you jump. “You listening, Y/N/N?”
“Yeah, sorry,” you said, shaking your head. That was a mistake. The pain doubled, but you grit your teeth and pushed through like Winchesters always do. “What did you say?”
He eyed you skeptically, a little worried, but continued, “I just said that this is crazy, right? I mean, Dad? Alive and well? Since when are we ever this lucky?”
“Lucky, yeah,” you muttered.
At that moment, Sam and John entered the kitchen. Dean walked over to Sam and turned toward the doorway. Sam followed suit and the two held a hushed conversation. John made his way over to the table and sat down heavily across from you.
“Sorry about that,” he said, noticing the ice pack.
“It’s fine,” you said sharply.
He opened his mouth to say more, but by then Sam and Dean had joined you. You scooted over to the edge of the bench to give them room to sit down. The three of you shared a glance before Sam launched into the crazy story that was your lives for the past fourteen years.
***
Dean poured John another glass of whiskey. He’d asked for some around the time Sam had explained the apocalypse and Lucifer and Michael. After that, he’d taken a drink when Sam talked about God and Amara, when Dean told him about Purgatory, and when you quietly recounted what it was like to be Lucifer’s plaything.
John listened to the whole story, every word. He never interrupted except to ask for more whiskey.
He took a sip of his drink and looked at the three of you. “So, you saved the world?”
“More than once,” Dean said.”
“Then it’s all true,” said John. “God, the Devil, you three smack in the middle. Now you live in a secret bunker with… an angel and Lucifer’s kid.”
“Pretty much sums it up,” you muttered.
“And you’ve done this whole time-travel thing before?”
Dean answered, “A few times. Actually, uh, our grandfather—your dad—he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know you’re finally here.”
“Right,” said John, “Man ‘a Letters.”
“We’re legacies,” Sam explained, “because of you.”
John looked at Sam and chuckled, eyes traveling down to the table below him. He sighed. “So you’ve—you’ve been busy.”
“A little bit,” you said. Understatement of the century, right there.
John was at a loss for words.
“I just… wish that I had been there to see it,” he admitted, staring at all three of you with emotion playing across his features.
It was unnerving how genuine he sounded. This was not the man you remembered growing up.
“Dad, none of this would have happened without you,” Dean told him.
“It’s—it’s fine,” John assured his son. “I went out takin’ out Yellow Eyes. I mean, that was the point, right? Get the thing that killed Mom.”
As he took another sip of whiskey, you and your brothers shared another glance. He didn’t know. He didn’t know that Amara—
“Sam? Dean? Y/N?”
Across from you, John’s face crumpled. He looked on the verge of tears.
“Mary?” he asked, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.
She walked into the doorway at that moment. John turned to face her and she stopped dead. Disbelief washed over her. As John stood up from the table, she all but stumbled down the steps. A smile spread across her face as they drew nearer to one another.
“John?”
He gave a jerky nod.
Without waiting any longer, they both rushed forward to meet each other. John and Mary Winchester hugged for the first time in almost thirty-six years. Mary laid her head on John’s shoulder and his hand ran through her hair.
After everything you’d been through as a family, your mother and father were finally together. This was what you’d wanted, what you’d yearned for, as a child. A mom and a dad, two loving brothers—a proper family. All those sleepless nights, every Mother’s Day and November 2nd, when you’d sat up wondering what it would have been like, and now you didn’t have to.
And it was killing you.
Sam tapped you on the shoulder and you broke yourself out of your thoughts. He motioned for the three of you to leave and give your parents space, and when you glanced at them, you understood why. They definitely needed a moment for themselves, if the kissing was anything to go by.
***
Dean had insisted that you needed to take it easy after the hit you took, so while he and Sam ran into town to grab the groceries for Mom’s casserole, you stayed behind with the two lovebirds, trying not to get in their way. You mostly kept to yourself in your room, lying down and letting your head rest for a little, until someone knocked on the open door.
It was John.
“Can I come in?” he asked hesitantly.
You sat up on your bed and shrugged.
He strolled in and looked around, eyes dancing over the small collection of guns on one wall and the collage of photographs on the other. His fingers skimmed over the ones closest to him, pausing on Mary’s face.
“You loved taking pictures when you were a kid,” he remembered. “Whenever I could scrounge up the money I’d try to get you a new disposable camera.”
“Those are some of my favorites,” you admitted quietly, pointing to the collection of photos near the top of you and the boys as kids. It felt like you were spilling some deep secret. “I found a few of my cameras in your storage locker forever ago. Once we moved in here, I finally had a place to keep them, so I got the pictures developed.”
John smiled at a picture of you and Sammy from sixth grade when you’d teamed up and won the science fair at Insert-President-Here Middle School. You were glad you’d taken so many pictures back then. They helped you remember the good times in your life, the moments that were few and far between.
“I know you and your brothers gave me the run-down earlier,” he said, finally turning to look at you. “Aside from all of the… crazy you told me about, you’ve been okay? Taking care of yourself? Watching out for Sammy?”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Of course, Dad. You know I’d never let anything happen to him. I’d die for him. Hell, I have died for him.”
John nodded, thinking.
“Y/N/N, now that you’re older and more…” he searched for the right word, “experienced, I guess, I hope you know that I tried. I tried my best with you and your brothers. It wasn’t exactly easy raising three kids on the road by myself. After your mom and all the demon stuff—if I did some things that wouldn’t have earned me Father of the Year, if I asked you to do stuff you didn’t agree with, I’m sorry.”
For a moment, you said nothing. John looked at you expectantly, hoping to hear what he wanted.
You scoffed. “You know, every time I dreamed and fantasized about this, about you finally apologizing, I never expected it to be so crappy.”
John’s face fell in disappointment and confusion.
“You’re sorry?” you repeated, standing up from the bed. “Sorry you ruined my childhood? Sorry you forced me to grow up before Sam and made me into your little soldier, following your orders every single day? Sorry you never gave a damn about me unless I screwed something up? You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“Y/N, please,” John pleaded. “I was trying to keep you safe. I was trying to keep you alive. I needed you to be able to defend yourself in case I wasn’t around. You have to understand—”
“No, I don’t! I don’t have to understand anything!” Your voice was rising, those buried emotions finally bubbling to the surface. “What the hell is there to understand about a father treating his only daughter like crap? You put the weight of the damn world on my shoulders and left me to deal with it on my own. You answer me that, you explain that to me, and then I’ll forgive you.”
John ran a hand down his face. “I never meant to do that to you, Y/N, you have to believe me! I never wanted you to feel like that, I just needed you to be ready for anything. Everything I did was to protect you and keep you safe because if I lost you I don’t—I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Oh, so comparing me and Sam, you did that to protect me too?” you said furiously. “Ditching us in crappy motel rooms for weeks at a time? The drinking and skipping out on holidays? Making me think that my only purpose in life was to protect Sammy, that my life wasn’t worth as much as his? Add in a lifetime of other issues and yeah, that sounds a hell of a lot like protection to me!”
You stared at him, letting all of the hurt and anger and pain show on your face to make him understand all that he’d done to you. “I was supposed to have a life! Me and Sam, we—we had a plan. We would go off to college and get away from the monsters and ghosts. I was supposed to go to college. But then you and Sam had that stupid fight and I got scared and I stayed, like the good little soldier, while Sam got to live our dream. And it’s been sixteen years and I still—I still can’t forgive myself.”
“You were gonna go to college?” he asked faintly. “What—what were you going to study?”
“Pre-med,” you spat. “Eighteen-year-old me was smart. All that time patching up you, Sam, and Dean after hunts might as well have done me some good.”
The silence after that hung like a thick blanket, threatening to suffocate you along with the stupid goddamn tears that you’d been fighting back since he first appeared in the bunker. Your throat burned, raw and torn apart like your heart. John was staring at you, but something was different. It was like he was seeing you in a way he never had before, like you were someone completely different.
“Y/N, I am so sorry,” he said finally. “I never realized what I was doing to you.”
“Obviously.”
“I pushed you so hard because I was scared,” John explained, voice choked up with emotion. “You’re my little girl. You were supposed to be my little princess. From the moment you were born, I have always loved you more than I have ever loved anything else in this world. And I’d already lost your mom, I couldn’t—I couldn’t lose you, too. And Sam—I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t as important as he was. That was never, ever my intention, and I need you to know that.”
You swallowed hard, heart pounding as you listened to him speak.
“I’m not defending myself or making excuses because there is no excuse. I just want you to know why. When I say everything I did was to protect you, I mean it. The way I did it could have been better, but I swear to you, I always tried to have your best interests at heart. And you don’t have to forgive me. I can understand now why you wouldn’t want to. But just please remember that. And remember that no matter what, I will always be so proud of you, of the woman you’ve become. That will never change.”
The tears in his eyes told you everything he couldn’t, and then you were the one looking at him in a different light. All that time, you’d believed that he didn’t love you as much as the boys, that you would forever be a disappointment to him. You’d been carrying the weight of his actions with you your whole life. They’d defined you for so long, even after his death, that hearing his side now… it felt like someone had ripped you open, taken out everything inside, and sewn you back together with a sloppy hand.
John blinked a few times to clear his vision. He gave you one last look, then walked out the door and down the hallway, leaving you alone and much more troubled than you had been before he came in.
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Adventure Can Be Anywhere- Ponyboy Curtis Imagine
(Hey, it’s Jay. Guess who has a six-page essay due Monday and hasn’t started??? It’s me but here I am doing this instead. This one’s just gonna be something small. Send me requests! Enjoy.)
Warnings: small mentions of abuse, unedited.
Another hot Saturday afternoon in Tulsa and Ponyboy found himself in the lot once again. He was alone this time and stayed staring at the puffy clouds in the sky. 
He was lost in a trance before he heard police sirens a few blocks away. He sat up and looked around. He could tell they were close.
Before he laid back down, he saw a girl running through the park and into the lot. He watched as she ran closer to him.
That girl was you of course. Y/N Y/L/N Winston. You had lived in New York until yesterday. You called up your brother, Dallas, and caught a train over to Tulsa. You love the city, but your mom...she was another story. Drinking was one thing, but when you became her babysitter and punching bag you couldn’t take it. You didn’t even pack a bag, you just heard the words “get out” and you were gone. 
Of course, you were as reckless as Dally, but you preferred the phrase “free spirit”. You loved trouble and adventure. It kept life interesting for you. Especially at night, it kept it from getting too quiet.
It’s only been a few hours in Tulsa and here you were, running from the cops. It was just a pack of cigs...and a candy bar...and an iced tea. But it doesn’t matter. Here you were just running.
You saw the brown haired boy laying down in lot. He looked like a greaser. So maybe he could help. You ran over to him, knowing the feds were only a few streets down. 
“Hey, I’m a bit of trouble here and uh...help?” You talked fast to the stranger. He was confused but something in you knew he was good people. You weren’t like Dally in that way...you had some faith in people.
“Uh-those sirens for you?” You nodded quickly and he nodded. “Um...follow me.” 
You watched him get up and he looked at you. You looked back at him and realized he was very cute... like really cute. His hair was a brown color and his eyes were a piercing gray-green. You almost forgot the problems coming at you until the sirens got louder. He noticed too.
“Follow me.” He grabbed your hand and started to run behind a building to an alleyway. You both sat behind a dumpster and waited there for a bit.
“Thank you.” You smiled at him, trying to catch your breath. 
“No problem.” He smiled back at you and began to speak. “My names Ponyboy by the way.”
“That’s original...I like it. Parents must be really creative.” 
“Yeah, they were.” You frowned at him and he shook his head with a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t know.”  He sighed and looked at you. “So you got a name? Or you just gonna be a mystery girl?” He gave you a reassuring smile.
“Y/N.” You laughed and put your hand out. He returned the gesture and shook your hand. His was warm and soft, but not clammy or anything...just warm...
“So you look new. Do you live around here?” He broke the silence as your hands pulled away. 
“Uh, well now I have for about three hours. I guess,”you only laughed,”I’m from New York actually. I’m gonna stay with some family. It’s...interesting here so far.”
“It’s not really. It’s just the same old every day.”
“Well yeah, only if you let it be boring. Life’s what you make of it.” He watched as your eyes lit up. “Come on...I’ll show you.” You stood up from behind the dump and smiled at him with your hand out. 
He doesn’t know why he grabbed your hand, but he was in for an adventure that’s for sure. Something in his gut trusted you.
You pulled him up and smiled up at him. “Let’s go have an adventure, Ponyboy.”
With that, he followed you through the alley and into the town. “What are we gonna do?”
You tapped on your chin as you looked around and thought to yourself. You got a mischievous smile as you spotted two office chairs being thrown out. “Any hills around here?” 
He saw the look in your eyes and grinned at you before nodding. Anyone driving by would have seen two 14-year-olds pushing office chairs and knew they were up to no good. 
“Now some people like to say I’m up to no good, but I like to say having some unorthodox fun.” You told him as you two pushed up the hill.
Darry was gonna kill him for not being home by five and he could feel it. It was only two, but he knew he was stuck here with you. He had no problem with that.
He smiled at you. You couldn’t see because he was behind you, but that boy was grinning and thinking about all the trouble you were...but you were in the best way. 
Once you got to the top he looked at you. “Now what?”
“Well, now we sit on the chair and roll down.” You laughed as his eyes popped out of his head. “Come on, don’t be chicken.”
“Are you crazy?” He looked at the steep hill and saw death. But then he looked at your excited face and his fear vanished.
“Of course I am. And so are you because you’re here with me.” You smiled and sat in your chair. “Look, it’s not scary. I did it all the time back home. See?” With that, you pushed your self down the hill. His eyes were wide and he was gonna stop you, but he watched as the chair moved faster. The wind was through your hair and you laugh could be heard for miles. You felt like you were free and flying in the moments before the chair stopped.
You laughed and looked up at him. “Now you!” You shouted from the bottom. He sighed and gulped. He took a deep breath before pushing himself down the hill. His scream turned into laughter as he realized the way you felt. Free. 
He reached the bottom and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well?”
He was quiet before he looked at you. “That was awesome! Let’s go again!” He stood up and pulled you up before running up the hill again. 
You couldn’t get the smiles off each other’s faces. It was like being a kid again. You two spent three hours up there. The last ride down you looked at him and smiled as you sat down. “Grab my hand.”
He did as he was told an looked at your hand intertwined before looking up at you. “Now on 3, okay?” He nodded. “1...2...3!” You two pushed off and let our screams and laughs. 
On the way down, one of your chairs hit a rock and took you both down. The ground scrapped your leather jacket and his arms. It was quiet as you laid on the floor, but when you looked at each other, you busted out in laughter. It was the best kind of laughter: loud and obnoxious.
He stood and pulled you up. “Come on, I wanna show you something.” You nodded and followed him up the hill again, without the chairs. You guys went all the way to the top. and he took you to the very top. The sun was going down and the sunset was a golden pink.
“Pony...this is beautiful!” You spoke excitedly as you saw the city and looked up at him.
“I know...I love it here. It’s quiet. Come on, sit down.” You both sat and watched the sunset. 
“So why here...why not stay in New York?” He looked at you curiously. 
“My momma...she was a drunk. She would never be home so it was me since I was like 8 when my brother left. It was...it was hard. I couldn’t take it so I called my brother and here I am.” You looked sad and he could tell you were upset. The thought was killing you. “But adventure can be anywhere...right?” You gave a sad laugh.
He smiled at you and put his hand over yours. “Yeah...it can.”
You sat there for another hour and talked. This boy was special. You could feel it within you and he felt the same.
It was six or seven when he realized he said he’d be home by five. “We should go...my brother expected me home hours ago.”
“Okay, I’ll walk with you. I gotta go find my brother anyways.” You stood up with him and began walking. 
“Who is your brother? I might know him.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked down the streets. 
“His name is Dallas. Dallas Winston. I was supposed to meet him at his friend's place. The Curtis’, do you know them?” Oh boy, he was gonna be in trouble. Dally had been waiting all morning for someone...he just never said who.
“Well I am them...and we gotta get you there quick or Dally is gonna have our heads on a stick.” He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his house. 
“You know Dally?” You yelled while running with him. 
“Small town and your brother is one of my best friends.”
You could hear his nerves. Eventually, you were in his front yard. Pony walked in first and there was his brother waiting.
“Ponyboy Curtis! Where have you been? I said five, it’s seven thirty! And who is this?” His voice calmed when he saw you.
Before Pony could answer, Dallas walked in. “Y/N?”
“Hey, Dal...” Darry looked so confused.
“You know her?”
“Yeah, that’s my kid sister and I wanna know why I said I’d be waiting at the station and your ass wasn’t there? You could have been dead.”
“Dallas, you said nine and I waited past ten you ass!” 
He stayed quiet until Darry spoke. “Why the hell are you both so scratched up? What did you do?”
“Oh my God, Darry, if he touched her, you’re only gonna have one little brother!”
“Ponyboy, what did you do with this girl?”
They were yelling and then you spoke up. “Hey!” They looked at you. “We didn’t do anything except having some fun in this town because apparently, no one knows nothin’ about it. And Darry, is it? I’m sorry I kept him late. It was my fault, not his. I’m sorry.” 
Darry’s expression softened at you. He sighed and rubbed his red face. He wasn’t mad at you or Pony, just frustrated and you could see it. “And as for you Dallas, I feel bad arguing in a stranger’s house so please, follow me.” 
Pony looked at you. The word stranger hurt a bit and he was in awe, along with Darry and the boys who had been in the kitchen with how you talked to Dally. No one ever raised their voice at him...ever.
He did follow you and looked at you. “Did you do anything with Pony?”
“No! Of course not Dally, he helped me get out of some trouble. We were just finding some fun.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “You know Dallas you have some nerve being all protective now. You left me all alone with that monster!”
“I know! Okay, I know and I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay...I couldn’t. I wish I could have taken you but I’m making up for it now, kid. I’m sorry, alright?” He pulled you into a hug and held onto you. He never told anyone how much he missed you. You were his only weakness and he loved you as much as he loved Johnny. You and the boys inside were his only family. “I did miss you, kid.”
You hugged him back. “I missed you too.” He messed with your hair and walked you back in. 
All eyes were on you two. “Oh um...hi?” You laughed and smiled at them. Ponyboy couldn’t take his eyes off you as you spoke to everyone. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you all.” 
A blonde boy put his hand out. “I’m Keith, but they call me Two-Bit because I always put my two bits in.” He laughed and so did you as you shook his hand.
A boy with brown hair and beautiful eyes looked at you with the most striking smile you had ever seen. “I’m Sodapop Curtis.” 
A boy with cake on his face smiled. “I’m Steve.”
A shy boy with jet black hair looked at you. “I’m Johnny.”
The rest of the night was spent getting to know them all. Your charm got Darry to warm up to you through the night. Laughter and stories filled the living room for hours on end. 
Eventually, you got up and excused yourself to take a smoke break. You sat on the porch and lit up a cancer stick. You heard the door open and looked behind you. You smiled at the boy with the grey-green eyes. 
“Hey, Ponyboy.”
“Hey...so some stranger’s house?” The word bugged him. Stranger. It just didn’t sit right to him.
“You know what I meant. You’re not a stranger. I trust you, Ponyboy Curtis.” You smiled and nudged him gently. He smiled at you as his chest warmed up. Words have never touched him more.
You took a drag. “Want a smoke?” You held the cig up to him and he nodded before taking it. He saw your lip gloss stain and took a drag from it. He thought it tasted like nicotine and cherry. It stayed in the silence until he broke it. 
“There is some more to this town...it’s not always quiet.” He said looking over at you. 
“Mind showing me?” You smile said mischief, but he didn’t care at all.
“Y/N Winston, it would be my pleasure to have many more adventures with you.”
Your eyes lit up in excitement and a smiled was stuck on your face.
“Ponyboy Curtis, I cannot wait for the adventures to come.”
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moonaft · 6 years ago
Text
Night and Silence
Rosemary and Rue
A Local Habitation
An Artificial Night
Late Eclipses
One Salt Sea
Ashes of Honor
Chimes At Midnight
Interlude : Full of Briers
The Winter Long
A Red-Rose Chain
Once Broken Faith
Interlude : Dreams and Slumbers
The Brightest Fell
Interlude : Of Things Unknown
I read this the day after Halloween. 
Spoilers up to Night and Silence and October 2018 for the Patreon stories.
To answer a question from the book summary: who remembers about Gillian?
Well...
Simon Torquill, obviously. Evening. Raysel. Sylvester, Luna, and the staff of Shadowed Hills 20 years ago. Most of Toby’s allies, including Quentin and his parents. The Lordens. The Luidaeg. Several of the night haunts. Brucer and probably some other people from Home. The SF police department. Literally any one who was listening at the elf-shot conclave. 
In short, there’s a lot of people who know about Gillian.
Anyways, onto the main story. 
Does Faerie not have therapists? If you can go away for a hundred years and come back fine, you probably don’t need therapists. Danny is the closest Toby’s got. 
It’s good that Tybalt doesn’t blame Toby for her mother’s actions. 
Back to therapy with Danny and Quentin after catching the flying pig-hedgehogs. Point of clarification: deposing Rhys is not treason because Toby never swore to him.
“No longer the custom to greet those of no family name with the name of their species” - Is that why Simon called May “Milady Fetch” last book? And mixed bloods and changelings would have it rough. “Milady Siren-Sea Wight-Banshee” for the false Queen? 
Nolan seems to be settling in well. 
Dianda would be an excellent mother-in-law, just saying. 
Hi May! Sounds like both Jazz and Tybalt have major depression and PTSD from last book. Poor Jazz, poor Tybalt. 
Hi Cliff!
And Cliff has turned to stalking now? At least Miranda knows that she’s stepped too far. 
At least Gillian is an adult now and can visit her estranged mother if she wants to, assuming she survives this. Poor Gillian. 
Yes, May usually doesn’t get to go on field trips. She’s not missing this one.
Poor Raj. The fallout from The Brightest Fell is hitting everyone hard. 
Has Arden actually talked to Toby about shifting loyalties before, or is that what Toby thinks is coming next?
I really hope this isn’t Simon’s work. 
Toby has a fan! I knew there must be fae out there who look up to her!
Well, those marshwater charms aren’t suspicious at all... At least Jocelyn isn’t affected. I wonder if it’s like iron for the fae. 
Hi Bridget! Who else in the cast of characters are we going to get today? Berkeley means Walther and probably Jack the grad student, and then maybe April? Or Mags?
Nicely done on the magic, Toby. I wonder if the red hair is the color of fox fur? 
Don’t swallow glass, Toby, it’s not good for you. 
Poor Gillian. 
OK, they found a weird pocket dimension. Not what I was expecting. 
Do Quentin and May see something different than Toby? She sees only one house.
Weird chicken house is weird. 
Confirmed that April is no longer the Countess of Tamed Lightning. I guess she could take over if her mothers wanted to take a long vacation.
“Get your fuzzy butts over here” - Toby, that’s still not how we talk about royalty. I hope Shade will be amused. 
Is cinnamon Jocelyn’s magic scent? It’s certainly not close to Simon’s. 
Hi Arden! What do you mean, you’re not supposed to be here? Not even going to Annwn triggered that response. 
So the fae did come to North America before the Europeans, or at least before the 19th century. 
So Shade rules the Court of Golden Cats, which isn’t really part of the Court of Dreaming Cats. This really doesn’t jive with how Tybalt and Colleen were in London.
Jocelyn, I had such high hopes for you. 
I love Toby pretending to be Jocelyn’s mom and I don’t know why. 
Jocelyn, no. Don’t do this. 
Weird house #2. I’m over 1/3 of the way through this book, why has no one brought up the Luidaeg yet?  
That must be terrifying for Marlis - “hey sis, can you check on the false queen who is still sleeping in your basement? No reason.” 
I bet it’s some sort of illusion magic, making Toby think it’s the false queen, like Oleander did. Or maybe Simon could grab the false queen’s blood to do magic. 
Yeah, that’s not Gillian.
So that’s not another doppleganger...
Baobhan Sidhe, that was mentioned in April’s interlude. 
Hi Tybalt! And Toby’s covered in blood again.
Are Baobhan Sidhe Maeve’s bloodworkers? Or does Titania or Oberon get two bloodworking races? Water can be used for illusion magic, sometimes. 
The last time they couldn’t get in contact with Dean, Evening had returned. That’s not good. 
So Toby got attacked by a vampire, fun. 
Has Goldengreen become a replacement Home? Marcia is good. I remain curious about how much the war against the merlins is common knowledge, she seems to know a lot about it. 
Marcia, can you lend Toby some non-blood-covered clothes? Please?
The “long lost estranged sister” card can only played once, Toby. I guess if you ever need to explain August to them, she can be your cousin, the daughter of your “Uncle” Simon. 
Fuck off, Miranda. 
She has a fae-repealing thorn, what the hell? 
She’s her grandmother??? And Janet - that’s Janet Carter who broke Maeve’s Ride, for sure. Amandine’s mother is Janet Carter, makes sense. And completely josses the idea of any non-Three-derived fae, ok. Everyone’s fae or human or both, no aliens here. 
May’s right, there’s something disturbing about Janet’s relationship with Cliff, her granddaughter’s ex-fiancee, and the father of her great-granddaughter. 
Clearly Janet hasn’t been paying attention to recent news. 
It sounds like Amandine went with the Torquill boys to California, if Janet’s been there long enough that Gilad’s parents knew about the spot. She followed Amandine, after Amandine followed the twins. 
Dammit Toby, you need to tell Quentin his mother was a changeling. This is Sylvester all over again. 
So breaking the Ride led to Faerie being sealed away? So Janet breaks the ride, Maeve curses Janet, she leaves?, and Oberon seals the deeper lands and leaves as well. Titania is not mentioned at this point in the story. 
Or, the Luidaeg implies she’s still there for the Ride? At least, Titania is not implied to be missing at this point. 
Tam Lin was going to go somewhere - or, he was going to die to feed Faerie, and then Maeve had to go instead, except it wasn’t death for her. If humans are sealed in deeper Faerie, that might kill them but not one of the Three. And then Maeve was gone, but Titania wasn’t or Faerie would have been thrown out of whack before the Ride. 
So what did Maeve do to Titania in response to the Luidaeg’s binding? 
Janet is reminding me of August here.
Tam Lin would get a peaceful death, I hope Maeve isn’t actually dead. 
Yeah, it’s implied that Maeve could come back one day. 
So there isn’t a geass on the world to make it forget about Dawn. Toby remembers that Dawn existed! Not enough to ask about why Evening pretended Dawn was her sister, and clearly neither Patrick nor Sylvester are bothering to ask why. So who killed Dawn? 
Who constructed the old knowe? 
“...whose only job is constructing life-threatening situations.” Sounds right, Quentin. 
Hi vampire lady!
And May and Quentin are elf-shot. Again. 
Poor Gillian, elf-shot again. 
Yes, please, go get Dianda. Toby has so many allies these days. 
How old are these kids? Gillian was what, four, when Toby went into the pond? She’s out fourteen years later, and it’s been four years since then. She should be twenty two or so. If Jocelyn’s the same age, Home closed when she was eighteen. Toby went to Home when she was twenty five, but Dare and Manuel were twelve, I think. Jocelyn wasn’t too young, in that case. I don’t think Home had an age limit. 
DUGAN’S NOT DEAD??? My God. 
Hi Kennis! Toby has a new ally.
Hi Dianda, Patrick and Sylvester. Good to see you all awake, unharmed and ready to help. 
So is Dawn Evening’s changeling granddaughter turned pureblood? I’m not getting the sense that Evening ever had changeling kids. Maybe Dawn is a former changeling and Evening’s daughter?
ARE YOU SERIOUS? They’re ALL human descended? It’s not just Maida, Aethlin is descended in part from a human? And Septiminus is Evening’s grandson, so either he or his parent was a changeling-turned-pureblood? It’s not just the twins? Unless the family name came from Glynis? And Dugan too!
The Merrows’ Firstborn is the child of Titania and a human, but not all Merrow are Lordens, so there’s another human in the Saltmist family’s history. Toby, why aren’t you reacting to this? Gillian, I know. But this is important!! 
Where are all these hope chests?
Oh, poor Gillian. Poor Toby.
Is Dugan working for Evening? Or maybe Simon? 
Plasedon’tbeSimonpleasedon’tbeSimon - ok, it’s Dugan, or maybe Simon pretending to be Dugan. 
Whoops, there he is again. Played your last card there, Dugan. 
At least Cliff is taking the lies well. I’m not sure Gillian’s going to understand the whole Amandine-August-Simon-Evening thing. 
Hi Siwan! Toby, if you ever piss off Arden too much, you can hang out in Portland. It’ll be fine. 
Hi Jolgier! This should be a good solution. Though shouldn’t Shade take charge? Well, seven years should be enough to put Raj on the throne. 
Maybe Dean can make Goldengreen into the new Home. Marcia’s already halfway there. 
Interlude: Suffer a Sea-change
Oh poor Gillian. 
This is taking place right before Christmas, that sucks. 
Yes, punch Jocelyn in the throat. You are going to like Dianda, maybe you can hang out at Goldengreen with Dean. 
She doesn’t remember the Luidaeg at all. 
OK, whatever Miranda’s line needs to do, it’s related to the fae blood they have. Gillian isn’t bound why whatever Amandine, August or Toby need to do. Is it taking Maeve’s place in eternal sleep? 
Poppy gets to go fight spiders, apparently. Good to know she’s doing well. 
Hi Firtha, sorry you’re dead. You seem cool. 
Oh poor Toby and Gillian. She never knew how much Toby cares for her. 
I do appreciate having Gillian’s POV on all this. Wonder what’s going to happen when she gets the cliffsnotes version of the entire series?
Gillian, you are the best. 
Hello Miranda, it is very creepy you married the ex-fiance of your granddaughter and the father of your great-granddaughter. I think you wanted a second chance to raise your daughter since Amandine pushed you away. 
Oh shit, she’s dead again. 
Wait, no, she’s ok. I think the skin is invisible outside of Faerie but she doesn’t know it yet. 
Aw, Poppy’s apprenticed to the Luidaeg! 
Yep, the Luidaeg is terrifying but Gillian doesn’t have the old tales to know what the rest of Faerie thinks. 
Yeah, Gillian can’t outrun the elfshot by being Selkie for a hundred years because I’m pretty sure there won’t be Selkies in another year, depending on what the bargain is. 
Look Miranda, you’re getting off easy at the moment. You’re also acting like a homophobic mother whose daughter just came out and can’t reconcile your hate with your love. 
Gillian, you’ll love hanging out with Quentin and May and Jazz. It’ll be great. 
I can’t fault Elizabeth Ryan for always having a drink in her hand. 
Yeah, I think the Selkies that currently have skins will become Roane or Roane-equivalent - no more passing the skins down the line. Anyone who doesn’t have a skin is going to turn human or die.
This is a good ending point. 
One more book to come. 
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winters-blue-children · 7 years ago
Text
“This is a character who... is not a murderer, but you could see him accidentally taking something too far, and you could see this ending up with Steve being permanently brain-damaged. You hear those stories.”
Ten years later, Billy finally returns to see Steve Harrington. 
AO3
The gates open and there’s no one to meet him on the other side. Not that he expectedly anyone to be there. Billy hasn’t had a visitor in years. No family, no friends. Just too much time alone with his thoughts.
There are faces that have haunted him for years. A father who screamed in his ear. A step-mother who turned the other way. A sister whose last words to him were that she hopes he dies in this prison. He remembers her young face twisted into a mask of hatred. It was the day of his sentencing. There were tears in her eyes, running down her cheeks. But it wasn’t sorrow on his behalf. There wasn’t a single person in that room who didn’t think he deserved it.
The face he sees most often in his nightmares is covered in blood, broken under his own hands.
Ten years he got for what he did. His lawyer tells him he might get out in eight for good behavior. He’s getting off easy, is what he was told. Ten years. It doesn’t come close to what he took that day.
He swallows the freedom around him. It feels like bile rising in his throat. Billy shudders and takes one last look at the prison he rotted a decade of his life in. His lungs ache for a cigarette. He starts walking towards the bus stop, and he doesn’t look back.
He’s got sixty dollars in his pocket. He’s carrying everything he owns in the world on his back.
There are days when he misses the roar of the Camaro’s engine. The screech of her tires. The smell of rubber burning in his nostrils. He would drag on a smoke, his eyes landing across the parking lot, on a young man with dark hair, Ray-Ban sunglasses, and a brilliant smile, leaning against a maroon Beemer with a pretty girl on his arm.  
He liked that smile. And he broke it a couple weeks later.
Faintly, he wonders where that girl is now. Nancy, her name was. He wonders if she ever got out of this town. She broke down in tears after the judge announced his sentence. Relief mixed with painfully lingering sorrow, probably. Her small shoulders shook as she buried her face in her hands. She looked up from her mother’s embrace just in time to see the bailiff walk him out, hands cuffed behind his back. Another face that haunts him.
The world’s changed in the time he spent behind bars. The town he called home for such a short while looks different now. Brighter, somehow? Or maybe he’s just accustomed to the grey of the prison walls.
On good days, the grey actually helped. On bad days, he couldn’t stop seeing red. Red on his knuckles that wouldn’t come off no matter how harshly he scrubbed. Red on his palms, red on the floor. Red on that face that won’t leave his thoughts alone.
His stomach grumbles painfully. He thinks now that he’s out, at least the food is something he can look forward to. Prison gruel always tasted like ash in his mouth.
There’s a strange nervousness in his gut as he walks into a fast food joint and orders himself a burger. He never got nervous before. But nowadays, he doesn’t know how to interact with society anymore.
He feels out of place. Older, and more tired. 
Disappointment sets in when the hot burger doesn’t taste any better on his tongue. He’s perceptive enough to know the fault lies within himself.
He thinks something might have broken inside him that day. Maybe a part of him got left behind on that bloody floor. In the lights of the police cars and the siren of the ambulance, some part of his soul died. Something he can’t ever get back.  
He watched them take him away. He watched the paramedics perform life-saving measures, moments before he was dragged away by the police.
Billy finishes his burger and continues towards his destination, with one more stop along the way.
He uses his pocket change to buy flowers. He can’t show up empty handed after all these years.
The hospital walls are so white. His eyes wince under the bright fluorescent lights. His voice is hoarse when he says the name at the reception desk. He hasn’t heard that name spoken out loud in years. His heart thunders in his chest as he waits for a room number.
The endless hallways blur together as he passes. Every instinct screams at him to run in the opposite direction. But he knows he has to face this. Even if he’s ten years too late, he has to face this.
“Get out.”
He should have left when Harrington told him to go.
Instead he laughed. He laughed after Harrington punched him in the face. He laughed again when he felt blood on his teeth. The sound of a plate smashing over the other man’s head echoed in the room. And then he was lost in the oblivion of his rage. He fell deep into the darkness and he couldn’t claw his way back out.
Something died that day, something within him. The other man wasn’t so lucky.
For a moment that stretched too long, he’d forgotten himself. He didn’t recognize the face he was beating. He didn’t think about what he was doing. He couldn’t hear the screams, the cries begging him to stop. The pounding that was his own fists, he couldn’t feel any of it.
And then it was over.
The body beneath him twitched. The eyes were closed, blood seeping into the floor. There was a horrible gurgling noise nearly drowned out by the sound of screaming children. It was a mockery of breath, the sound of a throat filling with blood.
His stomach churned as the clarity of his actions slowly washed over him.
Someone was crying.
“Call an ambulance! Call a fucking ambulance!”
Max finally pushed him out of the way. He fell onto the floor, staring in shock at what he had done. But the bitter reality was that whatever he had taken, it was already gone.
On the very worst nights since, Harrington would visit him in his dreams.
Today, Billy returns that favor.
He slowly pushes open the door of the room the receptionist had given him. He had thought about this day for ten long years. But none of it prepared him for this moment.
There’s hardly a sign of life on the bed. The ventilator and the machines make a steady hum. The sheets are so white. Flowers and cards and dusty photos with happy, smiling faces decorate the window sill.
Steve Harrington spent ten years in this bed. Billy can hardly recognize him.
He lets the door click behind him before he slowly approaches. He trembles with each unsteady step. The pain he feels hasn’t been lessened by time. The guilt and the regret eats away at him with every single passing second. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t wish he could take back what he did. Ten years isn’t enough-he would do a thousand if it meant it could bring back Steve Harrington.
He was told that Steve would never wake up.
Brain-damage, they told him.
He would be a vegetable for the rest of his life. Lying on that bed, kept alive by a feeding tube and a ventilator. Life support could keep his body going for decades, just… wasting away on that bed.
The flowers he holds in his hand is such meager recompense for what Billy did to him. He ruined two lives that day. 
Billy draws a shuddered breath as he watches him. Heavy tears roll down his cheeks but he doesn’t bother wiping them away. There’s no one to see him cry.
“Goddamnit, Harrington,” he gasps weakly. “Fuck.”
He shoulders shake and he collapses into the chair next to the bed. Tears blur his vision and he squeezes his eyes shut, but nothing can drown out the pain of this moment.
His sobs sound like a dying animal over the pounding of his heart. In a moment of weakness, he takes the other man’s hand. The flesh is cool to the touch, skin far too translucent to be healthy. But Billy grabs his hand and squeezes until his own choked breaths eventually steady.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, broken. He takes a shaky breath as his fingers trace over Steve’s knuckles.
Ten years. Ten years ago, he felt those knuckles on his face. They were both different people back then. He was filled with so much anger. And Steve… he was full of so much love.
Maybe if things had gone differently… maybe Steve could have even loved him.
But this was the path they were on. And that path led them here. Billy’s never known anything but violence. His collision with Steve was no exception. At the time, the violence was easier to comprehend. It was easier to feel anger over any other emotion. He had wanted comfort that night, and this was how he dealt with it.
Forgiveness isn’t in the cards for him, he knows this.
Their fates are sealed. And he can’t take back the evils he’s done.
The tears continue to fall as the ventilator beside him hisses rhythmically. 
“I’m so sorry, Steve.”
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katsbarrells · 7 years ago
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That I Would Be Good
(1/?)
Word Count: 1,675
Read On AO3.
Teaser: Nicole Haught could count on one hand the number of times she’d stared down the barrel of a gun. In fact, two of the five times had occurred the same night, in the same room, within the same ten minutes, with the eldest Earp standing on the other end of the barrel. Each time, she’d managed to walk away unscathed…every time – except for this one.
 Nicole Haught could count on one hand the number of times she’d stared down the barrel of a gun. In fact, two of the five times had occurred the same night, in the same room, within the same ten minutes, with the eldest Earp standing on the other end of the barrel. Each time, she’d managed to walk away unscathed…every time – except for this one. 
Before she could blink, before she could call out Waverly’s name, a fire was sparking within a long barreled Colt .45; and a piece of lead was slicing through the air and burying itself into the soft armor she had adorned beneath her uniform…through the armor and into her abdominal cavity. Level II bullet proof vests were standard for law enforcement officers across the country, but none of them were made to withstand the fatal combination of ballistics and magic.  
Nicole hit the wall seconds after the bullet had already pierced her internal organs, and down she went. 
“Now you know what it feels like when people take your things.”
*****
Death itself is both a painless and solitary experience. Death is the moment of silence, and for some, peace, bookended by a siren’s cry and immobilizing pain. The moments before and after death are the ones that count – the ones that follow everyone touched by its inevitability until they can experience it themselves. There’s a reason why humans are so profoundly affected by the death of another, and it’s found within the fabric of mortality. Even if they’ve not yet been wrapped within death’s embrace, they shaken her hand, they’ve brushed elbows, they’ve exchanged passing glances. Death does not discriminate, nor is she a benefactor of humankind. When a human dies, there are infinite realms to which their souls will travel – and death will grant them safe passage to their heaven or to hell – apologizing to the unlucky few who had no choice in the matter. 
Nicole knew her fate beyond death, and she was determined to make the precious moments before her death as easy as possible for her Waverly. Her Waverly. Waverly Earp, who belonged to no man or woman, but still gave herself completely to those she loved. Waverly Earp, whose arms were wrapped around the shaking body of the wounded deputy. Nicole could feel Waverly’s tears crashing down on her own cheeks as the brunette hovered over her, pulling her fading girlfriend closer to her. Nicole closed her eyes, the fluorescent lights suddenly too harsh for her overwhelmed senses. 
“Wynonna do something!” Waverly sobbed, reaching out to her sister with bloodstained hands. 
The heavy soles of Wynonna’s combat boots shook the linoleum beneath Nicole’s body, and she opened her eyes to meet the Heir’s gaze. Garnering the strength she had left, Nicole shook her head and defied Waverly’s pleas for help. 
“N-no. Earp. Go. Stop your dickhead sister, stop them.” Nicole could feel Waverly’s gentle hands moving frantically along her abdomen, tearing at the fabric of her shirt and finally, the bulletproof vest that had failed to perform. “Listen to me, Wynonna. It’s okay. End it.” 
Wynonna nodded and knelt on the ground, kissing Waverly’s temple before bounding out of the building to pursue Willa. Waverly had no time to protest. 
“Why would you do that?” Waverly choked. “We just got started!” 
The lump that had built up in the back of Nicole’s throat had moved to the back of her tongue, and she couldn’t stop herself from gagging as the sobs broke loose. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth, racing the tears that had already begun spilling out from behind her eyes. 
“I know baby,” her voice cracked with fear. “It’s okay, Waves. I’ll be okay,” she forced herself to regain some semblance of composure. Nicole knew this was a lie, but couldn’t let herself break Waverly’s heart twice in one night. 
“No. Please. You can’t do this.” 
Nicole contracted her abdomen as she attempted to sit up, causing a spurt of blood to erupt from the gunshot wound. She could feel the dampness beneath her vest, grateful that Waverly couldn’t see the full extent of her injuries beneath the uniform. Waverly leaned down, pressing her forehead against Nicole’s. The youngest Earp shivered at the chill that had already overtaken Nicole’s body. 
“I’m sorry, baby.” And she was. More sorry than she’d ever been in her entire life, and more sorry than she ever would be again. 
“Nicole, stop. We can still get you help, okay? You can’t go!” 
“Waverly, I need you to know. I love you.” I’m sorry for everything that comes next. 
Waverly heaved, her foundation crumbling at Nicole’s declaration and shook her head in desperate denial. “No, we aren’t going to do this. You’re going to be okay.” 
Nicole knew what was coming, and she knew that Waverly wouldn’t, or couldn’t, let herself say the words. And that was okay. It had to be okay. Instead, she brought a hand to the corner of her mouth and wiped away the blood that had begun to coagulate, staining the sleeves of her uniform for the last time. Her eyes searched Waverly’s own glassy hues, and the youngest Earp closed the distance between them – kissing Nicole with every ounce of life she had in her, hoping that somehow it would allow them to trade places. 
It didn’t…but it was enough for Nicole. It was a goodbye. 
The redhead finally broke the kiss, unable to breathe, and began coughing uncontrollably, blood pooling around her. Her body spasmed with enough force to break Waverly’s embrace. Nicole’s head fell into Waverly’s lap, their hands instead searching for one another. 
Nicole looked up one last time and managed to smile, genuine and true. 
“Be good for me, Waves.” 
Waverly nodded and trembled. “Stay good for me.” 
“Always.” 
*****
The elasticity of time was a concept Xavier Dolls had found himself pontificating more than he’d like to admit. The way a year could feel like ten, the way a minute could feel like ten-thousand. In a year’s time, Xavier Dolls had stood by the Earp women as they dropped rose petals on the oak casket of Deputy Nicole Haught.
 An entire year that felt like a lifetime. As the Earth made its sole journey around the Sun, he had seen tears flow like a raging river. He had seen demons make their peace while their mercenary swallowed more regret than he’d ever be able to chew. 
He thought he’d seen all that a year could throw at him – until he saw Wynonna Earp’s body laying on the frozen dirt with soot stained cheeks and a stopped heart. 
It only took ten seconds to revive her, to summon her back to the brink of consciousness. The Earp heir had died; though not for long.
And she didn’t come back alone. 
*****
“God damn pot holes!” 
Sheriff Randy Nedley threw his half-eaten bear claw onto the passenger’s seat of his patrol car, thighs burning from the scorching kiss of fresh, albeit spilled coffee. He hastily turned the wheel and slammed on the brakes, forcing the car to a sliding halt. He smacked the overhead-cabin lights on with his palm and scrambled for a napkin to wipe himself up with. As he searched, he made a mental note to send a memo to Purgatory Road Commission about how much coffee their negligence had cost him in the past week alone. He could have sworn he sent them an email about fixing the potholes on Rocky Point Road over a month ago. 
Though it was well after 10 o’clock at night, the night’s previous snowfall still blanketed the ground, making the starless night sky look a little less abysmal. 
“I found you, ya bastard,” he gleefully mumbled to himself – reveling in the solitude that permitted his private profanity. The lawman took the newly uncovered fistful of napkins and haphazardly wiped the stained fabric of his khakis. Nedley felt his heart break for just a moment. The pain burrowed deep in his chest. He knew it wasn’t his angina. Haught had always complained about the classic trouser, insisting that the fabric stained too easily and clung too awkwardly. Maybe she had been right. Maybe it was time for a change. 
He closed his eyes and hung his head low for a moment in nameless meditation. He had always worked hard to maintain boundaries with his deputies, but Haught had gotten under his skin with the help of her tenacity and large, orange cat. God, he loved that cat.
Nedley opened his eyes at the thought of Calamity Jane – he was late to feeding her dinner. In Haught’s absence, he had adopted the little lioness. 
Nedley transitioned the car back into motion and pushed onward through the night. As he crept closer to the edge of town, where his quiet little home with a view of the Rockies was placed, the already scarce lights began to fade away. Guided only by his headlights, Nedley spotted something moving roadside. 
“What the – “, he pulled onto the side of the road and switched on his high beams. There was a body. 
Instinctively feeling for his gun, Nedley gripped the handle, ready to draw at any moment. In a town like Purgatory, even road kill didn’t stay dead for long. He stepped out of his patrol car and slowly walked towards the body. 
“Excuse me, are you alright? Can you hear me?” 
The closer he got to the body, the more observations he could make. 
Female. Caucasian. Above average height.  Early to mid-twenties. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was…
“Haught.” 
Nedley fell to his knees and traversed the remaining ground between them from a crawl. 
“Nicole, is that you?” 
It wasn’t long before two crimson-colored eyes were staring at him. He scrambled backwards, startled but certain. He raised his hand up to his radio without breaking the dumbfounded stare he had cast in the wounded young woman’s direction.  
“Earp, get to the station now. There’s something you need to see.” 
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nycttophilic-a · 6 years ago
Text
Verses
Here are some verses, if you want to roleplay but don’t know what about~ A section for all of my muses!
                                                KIRA BLACK
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—In this Verse, Kira is just a normal girl in high school with no magic. Very smart, taking college classes outside of high school, most likely to be valedictorian.
~tαkє mє thrσugh thє níght; fαll íntσ thє dαrk ѕídє~ [Villain! Verse]—This Verse is based off of My Hero Academia. Here, Kira never went to Hyrule and learned of her magic. Instead, she lived on her own for years, her hatred for humans growing and torturing her inside. And once she learns of her “powers,” she decides it’s time to make humans suffer. (Can be My Hero Academia Verse.)
~whєrє thє runαwαчѕ αrє runníng thє níght~ [Phantom Casino Verse]—Starts the same as the villain verse, but here Kira joins the Phantom Casino, lead by Zach Rhys over at @siireniis​. She works as a singer/performer.  
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Kira is a normal human with an incredible voice. What is she to do with such a talent? Become a world renowned singer, of course!!
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~tαkє mє tσ wσndєrlαnd~ [Wonderland Verse]—An AU where Kira is basically Alice from “Alice in Wonderland”!!
~í cαn вє hαppч wíth чσu; вut í cαn‘t вє hαppч íf í‘m dєαd~ [Simulation Verse]—Do you want to ship your muse with one of my four girls? Then this is the verse for you!! That is, if you’re prepared for some REALLY messed up shit and triggers like suicide, abuse, murder, blood, and many others. This verse is not at all for the faint of heart, and it’s best if you don’t really know what you’re in for. If you want to learn a bit more about this verse, you can find it here.
Demon Verse TBA—Everything you think you know about Kira has changed!! Now, she’s a demon of over a million years old, and she does NOT like humans. Her past shall remain a secret until she decides to spill it—or have one of her demon “friends” tell your muse—but I will tell you she previously worked for a certian Earl of Phantomhive and devoured his soul long ago. Now she’s just a cold, uncaring, and selfish demon in need of probably a thousand Snickers.
~wє‘vє вєєn ѕpєndíng mσѕt σf σur lívєѕ lívíng ín thє gαngѕtα‘ѕ pαrαdíѕє~ [BSD! Verse]—Previously, Kira was supposed to have died when Lia was a baby. I changed that. In the attack that everyone believes killed Jezilia’s mother, Kira actually survived but was taken away from the scene without her baby. Sebastian came and collected the child without Kira’s knowledge, and from then on she spent every waking moment looking for her lost daughter. That brought her to join the Order of the Clocktower, and she is an excellent member. Her ability is “Twilight’s Lament” and is similar to Mori’s in the sense that it manifests itself in a physical form that will protect Kira and do as she asks (the ability is Midna, as this is her BSD verse too.) Kira’s been searching for her daughter for roughly 20 years (now 40) by the time the anime has begun.  There is also a verse available for her where Kira is just a normal young woman in the Order. No Lia, no mom-ing everyone, just a quiet girl with a book, an imp, and two swords. 
~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—An AU where the world is humans/monster hunters vs. monsters. Here, Kira is a siren—a hybrid between the two opposing races of siren, the Sea Siren and the Sky Siren. As a daughter of both, she’s hated by her own kind and was abandoned in the ocean. She washed up on shore and was found and sold by hunters to the government, where they performed experiments on her. She finally broke free at 12 years old, and has hated humans ever since. More information can be found here.
                                                  LIA MICHAELIS
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—Lia, a human now, is quiet and dark and often can be found listening to music and not paying attention to class or those around her. She secretly works every day to provide for her adoptive sister and mother, since Kira is a single mom trying to become a doctor.
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Another Verse where Lia is human. In this one, she’s a quiet (erm, silent) electric guitar player who secretly has a few hundredsongs up her leather sleeves.
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~wє clαím thє lαnd αnd thєn thє hσrízσn; αnd σntσ thє wσrld íf wє ѕσ dєѕírє~ [BSD-Decay of Angels! Verse]—Here, Lia met Osamu Dazai in the Port Mafia and fell in love with him, only to have him leave her. At first, she believes him to be dead because that’s the easiest to believe. But when she learns he’s alive, she’s furious and destroyed to know that he would leave her in darkness after showing her this beautiful light. So, when a certain Russian approaches her and asks her if she wanted an escape from her dark and lonely life, who was she to say no? Thus, she joined the Decay of Angels...
~gσd dαmn ríght; чσu ѕhσuld вє ѕcαrєd σf mє~ [Tokyo Ghoul Verse]—In this verse, Lia is a half ghoul from birth. Kira was a human (died in childbirth) and Sebastian was a ghoul (whereabouts unknown). Lia is an incredibly strong ghoul, since she’s a one eyed ghoul, but no one would be able to tell. She lives her life as a human like Eto does, hiding her ghoulish nature. She’s also a member of the CGG, and an excellent one at that.
~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—An AU where the world is humans/monster hunters vs. monsters. Here, Lia is a wisp. She was created by the demon that protected a certain forest in order to lure humans in for him to devour. She isn’t alive and never was, so she doesn’t understand emotions and being alive. But she’s willing to learn. More information can be found here.
~í cαn вє hαppч wíth чσu; вut í cαn‘t вє hαppч íf í‘m dєαd~ [Simulation Verse]—Do you want to ship your muse with one of my four girls? Then this is the verse for you!! That is, if you’re prepared for some REALLY messed up shit and triggers like suicide, abuse, murder, blood, and many others. This verse is not at all for the faint of heart, and it’s best if you don’t really know what you’re in for. If you want to learn a bit more about this verse, you can find it here.
~tαkє mє thrσugh thє níght; fαll íntσ thє dαrk ѕídє~ [Villain! Verse]—A verse for My Hero Academia. Lia is just a normal human in this verse, and not related to Kira in any way. She works for the government as an investigator and uses her quirk—Hood: if she pulls her hood over her head she goes invisible—to investigate villains. However, she’s actually a villain in secret. She works for Anne and Leic at the Underworld (villain organization) to get info on other villains. She is loyal to them, not the government.
                                         ANNE PHANTOMHIVE
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—Anne is a rebellious human teen who had been sent to study abroad at an all girls school by her rich father. Now, she’s back with her twin brother, and they both want to give public high school a shot.
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Anne is a human who is currently learning to play the bass guitar with her best friend, Lia. With her mom’s skills with the drums and pleasant voice, as well as her rich father’s admiration for the piano, she was kind of raised around music. Now, she wants to spread her wings. However, that is hardly as easy as it seems.
Queen’s Watchdog Verse TBA—In this Verse, everything is the same…except Anne never became a reaper!! Her entire world is shifted; Leic grows up to become a doctor, Anne is the one who clung to her twin as children, Anne became Ciel’s heiress and pawn, and the fiery woman’s fire extinguished, replaced by a cold heart of stone. She became the next Earl of Phantomhive while her father and mother remain in the Underworld. Now, she is the aristocrat of evil, and she fits the role her father left behind perfectly…sickeningly so.
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~tαkє mє thrσugh thє níght; fαll íntσ thє dαrk ѕídє~ [Villain! Verse]—A verse for My Hero Academia. Anne is the co-leader of a secret enemy organization that keeps tabs on villains from all over the world, working alongside her twin brother, Leic. She has quirk called Pyromaniac, where she can control flames and set herself aflame, and is also immune to fire and has an elevated body temperature.
~í cαn вє hαppч wíth чσu; вut í cαn‘t вє hαppч íf í‘m dєαd~ [Simulation Verse]—Do you want to ship your muse with one of my four girls? Then this is the verse for you!! That is, if you’re prepared for some REALLY messed up shit and triggers like suicide, abuse, murder, blood, and many others. This verse is not at all for the faint of heart, and it’s best if you don’t really know what you’re in for. If you want to learn a bit more about this verse, you can find it here.
~gσd dαmn ríght; чσu ѕhσuld вє ѕcαrєd σf mє~ [Tokyo Ghoul Verse]—A verse that takes place in the world of Tokyo Ghoul. Here, Anne and Leic are the children of a human aristocrat that found himself with too much power: the knowledge of how to create half ghouls. He used this knowledge to turn himself and his two children into one eyed ghouls to make them strong, having to sacrifice his wife in the process. Now Anne must live with being a monster and having to eat her own kind, as well as struggle to be there for her younger brother through the worst of the worst.
~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—An AU where the world is humans/monster hunters vs. monsters. Here, Anne is an ifrit. She was alive at one point but was murdered by a monster hunter, who mistook the human girl for a monster. Now she despises the human monster hunters and takes joy in murdering them, and ESPECIALLY setting fire to their homes and loved ones.
~wє‘vє вєєn ѕpєndíng mσѕt σf σur lívєѕ lívíng ín thє gαngѕtα‘ѕ pαrαdíѕє~ [BSD! Verse]—Taking place in Bungou Stray Dogs, Anne is the leader of an organization that studies abilities called the Underworld Reapers. Find more info here.
                                              GRELLE SUTCLIFF
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A modern day high school Verse!! Grelle is a popular and outgoing theatre girl who loves drama, on and off stage. Everyone knows her, but no one REALLY knows her. She’s also transgender, but doesn’t talk about it much so most people don’t know.  
~í‘vє gσt α вlαnk ѕpαcє вαвч; αnd í‘ll wrítє чσur nαmє~ [Death Note! Verse]—Grelle is a Shinigami in the Death Note universe, so naturally this au is divergent from DN canon. For instance, there is so Ryuk or monsterous Shinigami. Instead, they are all humans that committed suicide and became reapers. I’ll explain in further detail if you’re interested~
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Grelle is a human who loves to play the drums and sing—as well as try to find a lover who gets her love for music. But finding a band who’ll accept her weirdness may be harder than she thought.  
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—An AU where the world is humans/monster hunters vs. monsters. Grelle is a flamboyant and messy vampire who loves to tease and play with her food before drinking their blood. She doesn’t really care about monster hunters as she is excellent at avoiding them, and so she tends to mind her own business a lot.
~í cαn вє hαppч wíth чσu; вut í cαn‘t вє hαppч íf í‘m dєαd~ [Simulation Verse]—Do you want to ship your muse with one of my four girls? Then this is the verse for you!! That is, if you’re prepared for some REALLY messed up shit and triggers like suicide, abuse, murder, blood, and many others. This verse is not at all for the faint of heart, and it’s best if you don’t really know what you’re in for. If you want to learn a bit more about this verse, you can find it here.
~wє‘vє вєєn ѕpєndíng mσѕt σf σur lívєѕ lívíng ín thє gαngѕtα‘ѕ pαrαdíѕє~ [BSD! Verse]—Taking place in Bungou Stray Dogs, Grelle works for her cousin, Anne, as a Reaper. Grelle goes to different places and takes note on the Abilities in that region. Find more info here.
~tαkє mє thrσugh thє níght; fαll íntσ thє dαrk ѕídє~ [Villain! Verse]—Grelle is a villainess that mostly does mercenary work. Loves killing and making a mess of it all. Her quirk allows her to change her appearance, so you never know if she actually looks like herself—which she doesn’t, all the way—and people also can’t track her down.
                                               DEMON’S EMBRACE
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—Demona is Lia’s adoptive sister. The two couldn’t be farther alike, as Demona loves to party and flirt and sleep around. She doesn’t care too much about school, but will actually try for their mom (Kira)’s sake.
                                           RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA  ~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—An AU where the world is humans/monster hunters vs. monsters. Akutagawa is a monster hunter who uses captured monsters in combat. He makes proper use of shock collars and beatings to keep his “pets” in line. He is feared among monsters and respected among humans as a hero that drives back the horrific beasts. 
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—A verse where Ryunosuke is just a normal emo guy who’s an excellent bass player. The only problem is that he doesn’t work too well in groups, or bands...
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~tαkє mє thrσugh thє níght; fαll íntσ thє dαrk ѕídє~ [Villain! Verse]—Affiliated with @siireniis​‘s Phantom Casino. Ryunosuke used to be Dazai’s pupil as a child before the older male joined the side of the heroes and abandoned the boy. Years later, he was found on the street by the leader of the Phantom Casino, Zach Rhys. Now, Aku works for him and is incredibly loyal to him, and can be found as a bartender at the villain-exclusive casino.
~í‘m juѕt líkє чσu! чσu‘rє juѕt líkє mє!~ [Twin! AU]—An AU for Akutagawa rpers who love twin AUs like me!! Basically Ryunosuke has a younger twin brother, Tajomaru (I will play as Tajomaru..!! ^w^)
~í cαn‘t lívє α nσrmαl lífє; í wαѕ rαíѕєd вч thє ѕtrєєtѕ~ [Beast! AU]—An alternate AU where Ryunosuke is a member of the Armed Detective Agency, along with other changes. This verse will be extremely selective as I don’t know much about the Beast novel, so you guys will have to help me lol  
~tσ α ѕєnѕєlєѕѕ вєαtíng; crípplєd αnd вαrєlч вrєαthíng; í tσrє σff mч ѕkín; í‘ll hαng frσm thíѕ nσσѕє~ [Reverse! AU]—A very dark and twisted AU that’s the complete opposite of normal. In this AU, Ryunosuke is a calm and well mannered boy training under Chuuya Nakahara in the Armed Detective Agency. He is often referred to by Atsushi Nakajima as his “pet”, as he is forced to do as the weretiger says—otherwise, he will kill him.
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A verse where Aku’s just a normal teen. He’s a junior and basically Dazai’s shadow. He idolizes him for reasons I honestly couldn’t tell you. Even though he follows him everywhere, when Dazai graduates Ryu will never reach the fear and control his “mentor” made.
                                       ANGELICA SCHUYLER
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A verse where Angelica is just a normal girl. Like the rest of her sisters, she is a rich girl who had been homeschooled most of her life until she decided she wanted to give high school a chance.
                                       ELIZABETH SCHUYLER
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A verse where Eliza is just a normal girl. Like the rest of her sisters, she is a rich girl who had been homeschooled most of her life until she decided she wanted to give high school a chance.
                                           PEGGY SCHUYLER
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A verse where Peggy is just a normal girl. Like the rest of her sisters, she is a rich girl who had been homeschooled most of her life until she decided she wanted to give high school a chance.
                                               OSAMU DAZAI
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Dazai is a talented lead guitarist with a pretty terrible sense of responsibility. He’s a handful if you want him in a band, but he’s excellent at playing.
~tσ α ѕєnѕєlєѕѕ вєαtíng; crípplєd αnd вαrєlч вrєαthíng; í tσrє σff mч ѕkín; í‘ll hαng frσm thíѕ nσσѕє~ [Reverse! AU]—A very dark and twisted AU that’s the complete opposite of normal. In this AU, Dazai worked for the ADA first and made friends there, but was abducted by the Port Mafia for his ability. Now he’s constantly beaten and tortured every day by his old mentee (and current PM executive), Atsushi Nakajima.  
~ín thє dєαd σf níght чσu wєnt dαrk σn mє~ [Aftermath Verse]—A spoiler heavy AU that follows the idea that Dazai will have to go back to the port mafia. Find more info here.
~tєll mє whч αrє wє ѕσ вlínd tσ ѕєє thαt thє σnє‘ѕ wє hurt αrє чσu αnd mє~ [Dark Era]—This takes place in the time between Dazai being 14 to 18. He’s an executive of the Port Mafia, partners with Chuuya, and training Akutagawa. Not much else to say here. (WARNING—HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING FOR DEPRESSION, SUICIDE, AND TORTURE)
~í‘m juѕt líkє чσu! чσu‘rє juѕt líkє mє!~ [Twin! AU]—This verse is specifically for other Dazai rpers who, like me, LOVE twin AUs!! Osamu and Osaka (my Dazai) were the Demon Twins of the Port Mafia before they left. Never separated, always humorous, these twins love causing havoc and joking around with each other. They may no longer be demons of the Port Mafia, but now they are tricky little imps in their own way. Chuuya and Kunikida, beware~ When it comes to a twin verse, my “twin” will have the same backstory as yours unless stated otherwise. This is to prevent confusion with differing headcanons and backgrounds.
~í cαn‘t lívє α nσrmαl lífє; í wαѕ rαíѕєd вч thє ѕtrєєtѕ~ [Beast! AU]—An alternate AU where Dazai is the boss of the Port Mafia, along with other changes. This verse will be extremely selective as I don’t know much about the Beast novel, so you guys will have to help me lol  
~єvєn íf í dσn‘t pull thrσugh αm í α hєrσ tσ чσu?~ [Hero! Verse]—In this verse, Osamu is a teacher at UA. He wasn’t always a teacher, as he used to be a leading part in the infamous villain group/mafia, the Port Mafia in Yokohama. However, he left the Port Mafia because a dear friend wished him to, and made his way to the leading hero school in all of Japan, UA, to become a teacher. Of course, no one but him knows of his past… He is now the teacher of 3-A in the hero course. (Read more here!)
~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—In this AU, Dazai is a monster hunter—and an extremely well known one at that. His methods are questionable, but he always gets the job done. Find more info here.
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A verse where Dazai is just a normal teen. Dazai acts a lot like his Dark Era self in this au. He’s a bully, a drug dealer, a fighter, and just over all a terrifying person. He is the most feared person in the high school, and for good reason. It’s best to be on his good side.
                                                       MASAMI
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—Masami is just a normal teen here. They ran away from their family when they were thirteen and has been in the system ever since, under a new name. Now, they live in with foster family with five other siblings (the other “executives”) and a mom, Acedia. 
                                             ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA 
~í cαn‘t lívє α nσrmαl lífє; í wαѕ rαíѕєd вч thє ѕtrєєtѕ~ [Beast! AU]——An alternate AU where Atsushi is the White Reaper, a pet of the Port Mafia, along with other changes. This verse will be extremely selective as I don’t know much about the Beast novel, so you guys will have to help me lol  
~í‘m juѕt líkє чσu! чσu‘rє juѕt líkє mє!~ [Twin! AU]— Atsushi and Atsuki (my boi) Nakajima were both twin orphans in the orphanage before they were kicked out. They share a name for their ability, and as identical twins, have identical abilities. They both joined the ADA together and are the closest of siblings. When they were in pain back in the orphanage, the other was always right there. So now, they must learn to navigate this new world together. When it comes to a twin verse, my “twin” will have the same backstory as yours unless stated otherwise. This is to prevent confusion with differing headcanons and backgrounds.
~єvєn íf í dσn‘t pull thrσugh αm í α hєrσ tσ чσu?~ [Hero! Verse]
— Here, Atsushi is a 3rd year student in the hero department, in the class 3-A taught by Osamu Dazai. Atsushi is an orphan and had lived in an orphanage all his life until he was kicked out at the age of 14 instead of 18. He fled from Yokohama after learning of his quirk, which he previously had no knowledge about, to train to get his powerful quirk under control and become a hero so he can save people, which is his true passion. (Learn more
here
!)
~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—In this AU, Atsushi is a weretiger (surprise surprise XDD) who protects the woods Lia is from. He is human by day and only turns into a weretiger in the full moon, but if there is some moonlight he becomes more like a tiger. Find more info here.
~ín thє dєαd σf níght чσu wєnt dαrk σn mє~ [Aftermath Verse]—A spoiler heavy AU that follows the idea that Dazai will have to go back to the port mafia. Find more info here.
~tσ α ѕєnѕєlєѕѕ вєαtíng; crípplєd αnd вαrєlч вrєαthíng; í tσrє σff mч ѕkín; í‘ll hαng frσm thíѕ nσσѕє~ [Reverse! AU]—A very dark and twisted AU that’s the complete opposite of normal. In this AU, Atsushi is an executive in the Port Mafia, known as the Black Tiger. He’s insane and twisted and very obsessive, and he is Dazai’s personal abuser.
~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Atsushi is a drummer and a pretty good singer, but he’s very shy and struggles to meet new people. He wants to join a band, but how...??
~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol
~tαkє mє tσ wσndєrlαnd~ [Wonderland Verse]—A verse that takes place in the AU of Alice in Wonderland. Here, Atsushi takes the place of the White Rabbit.
~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A verse where Atsushi’s just a normal teen. He is a foster child who has been jumping from family to family. He’s very similar to how he usually is and would rather DIE than go to detention.
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