#his reaction to Leo? not letting anyone read the book she left before he could even if it would take a lot more effort?
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also something about foolish, who usually sticks around spawn, who builds or fools around, who takes care of his daughter, going off thousands of blocks away to fight in dungeons. to throw himself into the fight again and again. to find something harder to fight each time, to get a reward that he doesn’t really need or want anyway. no leo around for him to worry about, or worry about him in return, after all
#foolish 🤝 bad - healthy coping mechanisms who??#anyways no one is dealing with this well and I’m ready for them to just destroy the island until their children come back or they can go#and save them#sorry to keep angst posting on main I’m going through it pfksjfjs#I’m just. foolish isn’t one to get serious or genuinely upset. frustrated maybe. hardly upset like he is#his reaction to Leo? not letting anyone read the book she left before he could even if it would take a lot more effort?#he had his moment of ‘wtf’ laughter. and then he has his genuine im upset I’m pissed I’m at a loss reaction. which is the polar opposite of#his usual frantic raised voice almost comical over the top reactions#when Tina finds out he can’t even fully brush it off with a joke to comfort her. he can’t reassure her. he gets quiet#I’m just. the whole combo. I’m upset about this man#mcyt#qsmp#foolish#z speaks
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Bewitched, Body and Soul
So... this happened. Blame the Discord. Basically, the premise is receiving a note from a stranger about having similar tastes in books, and my first thought was Finn/Leo. And now, around 24 hours later, this showed up in my word document. Hope y’all like it!! And don’t worry, I’ve already got a sequel planned with Logan ;)
All characters, of course, belong to the wonderful @lumosinlove
And, if you’re so inclined, check out my Masterlist if you enjoy this story! <3
CW: food/drink
.
Leo loved this bookstore. There was a west-facing windowfront that allowed all sorts of afternoon light to shine through, creating a large, warm sunspot right in Leo’s favorite armchair. The shelves were always neatly organized by category, there was a featured book of the week, and there was a coffee shop sequestered to one corner of the building. What else did he need in life? He’d spent countless hours here, sitting with a new book and a cup of coffee or tea and getting lost in whatever world he’d been transported to within the crisp pages and black ink. Being new to the city, there were probably better ways to make friends, but there was something so soothing, so comfortingly familiar about shutting off the worry in his mind and just focusing on the story unfolding in his hands.
But when his stomach growled loudly in protest, he figured he needed to put reading on hold.
There was a wrinkled, jagged-edged scrap of paper sitting on top of Leo’s book when he returned to his table, café pastry in hand. It hadn’t been there a second ago. Curiously, Leo set his food down and inspected the foreign paper. Messy, inelegant scrawl slanted across the page in deep blue ink. The lines were uneven and chaotic; the i’s weren’t even dotted, almost as if it took too much effort to go back and add them in. Leo found it strangely endearing. It read:
Hi!
I don’t think we’ve met, but based on your choice of literature I think we would make great friends. :)
- Carrot Top
Leo smiled, read it again, and looked around for the person who sent it but no one acknowledged him, seemingly lost in stories of their own. So he sat there, a smile still on his face as he got back to his book, using the note as a bookmark.
~~~
Finn couldn’t help himself when, a few days later, he left another note after seeing the guy with good taste in books again at the bookstore. He was at what must have been his usual table, seemingly right where Finn had left him. The only difference besides the clothes he was wearing was the book he was reading. Finn let himself linger on his profile, just for a second – the gentle slope of his nose, the way his curls rested against his forehead, how bright blue eyes scanned the pages below him.
Finn wasn’t one for love at first sight; that was for romance novels only. But instant attraction? Oh yeah. He was definitely there.
He picked up a small flyer from the front desk, flipped it over, and began to write.
And maybe it wasn’t a good way of, as the kids said these days, “shooting his shot”. But it was a start. And it was fun – the thrill of trying not to get caught, the anonymity. Sure, one day he’d maybe get up the courage to talk to him in person, but he was happy with this for now.
Hmm… haven’t read that one. Might have to get myself a copy!
- The Walking Freckle
After dropping the note off while the blond walked off to take a phone call, Finn tried to act casual as he stared sightlessly down at his own book instead of over at the cute stranger like he desperately wanted to.
Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious…
If he was being completely honest, he didn’t really know where to go from here. Did the blond think the notes were creepy? Or weird? He never seemed to mind much, but… well, a stranger was repeatedly leaving notes for him. What if it was making him uncomfortable? Would it make things better or worse if Finn introduced himself?
A snort came out, unbidden. Yeah. Right. That would go well. Finn could practically see it now: he would be clumsy and awkward, probably spilling coffee all over the guy’s book or – even worse – all over him. He’d scare him off for sure.
But at the same time, Finn wanted nothing more than to meet him. To sit down across the table from him and debate the points of the book he was reading, or give book recommendations, or just talk. About literally anything. Finn wasn’t a picky guy. He could sit there and let him speak for hours, absorbing any and all knowledge about him like a sponge. Did the corners of those bright, blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiled? Did his cheeks get all flushed when he was passionate about something, just like Finn’s? What was the story behind the soft-looking tuft of gray hair at his temple?
Who was he?
Finn was overflowing with questions, and desperate for the answers.
But he needed to go about this the right way, didn’t he? The last thing he wanted to do was screw this up. So he closed his book, propped his chin in his hand so that he could stare out the window, and started to plan.
~~~
The next note threw Leo for a bit of a loop. He’d saved his table with his coat thrown over one of the chairs and went up to the New Books section, surreptitiously keeping an eye on his table and hoping that he’d catch his note-sender red-handed.
Leo could’ve sworn that he’d looked away for half a second, but – well, he got distracted by a book, so it easily could’ve been five minutes for all he knew. This note was written on one of the café napkins, the ink bleeding through in some spots and a few small tears in the delicate material.
Nice choice! That book absolutely shattered my heart and then pieced it back together. The way she writes love lost just hurts so beautifully, doesn’t it?
I like your sweater by the way.
Fuck I hope that’s not creepy.
I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just think you’re really cute. And you have amazing taste in books. I’d like to learn more, if you’d let me. :)
But first, you have to figure out who I am! Good luck!
- Your Not-So-Secret Admirer in the Tortoiseshell Glasses
He smiled, wide and happy, and looked around for tortoiseshell glasses, red hair, and freckles. Those were the only three clues he had so far. So he quickly scanned the crowded café, looking for anyone who fit the description. The only one even close was a freckled, redheaded guy at the corner table, but no glasses.
That was a shame, too. He was stunning.
The mystery bibliophile must already be gone, then. Or hiding.
Looked like Leo had his work cut out for him. He did always like a challenge.
~~~
It probably wasn’t Finn’s best idea to take his glasses off. He couldn’t see a damn thing and was left squinting down at his book, trying to determine if what he was seeing was an F or a P.
That smile, though… he could’ve seen that dimpled smile from all the way across the street.
He never thought he’d be pining for a stranger like this, but then again – he wasn’t a complete stranger, was he? After all, you could learn a lot about a person by their book preferences. Finn wasn’t normally known for being a good judge of character – he was too optimistic, too unwilling to see the bad in people. But damn, did he hope he was right about this one.
~~~
Finn had probably been too bold with the note he’d just dropped off, but when he’d seen what book that his new maybe-friend was reading, he knew he couldn’t just pass up an opportunity like that.
He didn’t wait to see the reaction this time – he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just left the short note on top of the book while the blond was at the café counter and booked it (pun definitely intended) out of there as fast as he could.
You have bewitched me, body and soul. <3
- Bambi
~~~
He should’ve waited. Leo’s reaction, all bashful smile and bright red face and pleased expression, would’ve been worth it.
~~~
Leo went back to the bookstore pretty much every day after that, intent on finding this person. Not only was this a fun little game they were playing, but it would be nice to finally have a friend in the city. He still didn’t know anyone besides his coworkers and… well, he was a little lonely. A friend would be nice, especially one who had a shared interest in books.
The only thing left to do was to find them.
Red hair, freckles, glasses, and big doe eyes.
Leo looked for the only four defining traits he had, methodically starting in the front of the store and weaving through isle after isle of bookshelves. When that proved unsuccessful he moved on to the café, gaze landing on the queue first before lurching to a stop at the glimpse of a shock of auburn hair in the far corner booth. Heart hammering in his chest, Leo used his height to his full advantage and peered over the line of people.
Freckles, Glasses, Big, doe eyes.
If he needed any more confirmation, the stranger – the very cute stranger – was reading the same book Leo had been reading a week ago. The one his anonymous friend said they hadn’t read yet.
It had to be him.
Leo didn’t let himself think about it too much – he knew he’d panic if he did. He just strode over and sat down across from him, setting his book down on the table with a quiet thud. The note-writer jumped a little, then lifted wide brown eyes to look up at him.
Oh, but he was gorgeous.
“So what part are you at?” Leo asked, eyes taking in everything they could now that he was close enough – that messy red hair that just barely curled at the ends, the hint of scruff on his jaw, brown eyes shifting from shade to shade in the afternoon light filtering through the window beside him. Soft, mesmerizing lips curved into the beginnings of a smile that Leo couldn’t help but be transfixed by. “Have you gotten to the part where Patroclus dies?”
Finn stared back, trying to look horrified but he knew he was smiling so much that they counteracted each other because, finally, he’d figured it out. “I can’t believe you’d break rule number one of having a reading buddy: don’t spoil the ending.”
Dimples.
“Oops.”
Finn was done for.
“I’m Finn,” he managed to stammer, aiming for his best smile and probably looking like he’d just tasted something awful instead.
“Leo,” his companion said with a warm smile. Then he frowned. “Wait, no. Go back. You can’t spoil the ending of a story that’s literally thousands of years old.” The blond leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee and watching in amusement as Finn gaped at him in horror. He could feel his cheeks and ears getting red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“That’s so not the point!”
Leo laughed, then motioned for Finn to state his case. And then Finn was off, forgetting all about his nervousness and tendency to be awkward. He ranted about that topic for… well, he didn’t really know how long, but it was a while. Leo didn’t even bat an eye, keeping pace well and interjecting with his own points calmly and collectedly – the gentle breeze to Finn’s tornado. He was smiling, too, even though sometimes he tried to hide it behind the rim of his coffee cup. And he was smart, Finn learned as they jumped from one topic to the next and the minutes ticked by. He knew a lot about literature, like Finn, but he could also make these random connections to all kinds of different topics that Finn would’ve never thought of, all while keeping up with Finn’s fast-paced brain and tendency to jump down rabbit holes.
It was an instant connection, the likes of which Finn had never experienced before. It was intoxicating. Finn felt like he could never get enough.
During a lull in between one conversation and the next, Leo pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over, looking suddenly and inexplicably shy. Finn cocked his head confusedly, then unfolded the paper and looked down.
Would you like to go on a date sometime?
PS: I’m free tonight if you are. :)
- The Guy Who’s Been Crushing on You for Weeks
Finn’s heart threatened to burst. “Absolutely.” He hesitated, just for a second, then decided to go for it. “Are you free now? I know a pretty great café nearby.” With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he jerked his thumb at the bookstore café and earned a laugh. He wondered what he could do to earn another.
“Sounds perfect.”
They walked over to the counter together, the backs of their hands just barely brushing – it was still enough to make Finn hyperaware of every miniscule movement and get his pulse hammering. Leo was teasing Finn for his terrible eyesight in a soft, southern drawl – something Finn definitely wasn’t expecting but sure as hell wasn’t complaining about, his fingers deliberately playing with Finn’s now, and Finn knew it was going to be a good night. It was already a good night; how could it possibly get any better?
“What can I get for you?”
Leo and Finn looked up at the barista and their eyes widened in tandem as they took in thick chestnut waves, long, dark lashes, and bottle-green eyes. He wasn’t smiling, not necessarily. His expression was fairly neutral, all things considered – except for those eyes. If you stared at then long enough, you could see just the faintest whisper of amusement.
They both looked down slightly, searching for a nametag. There, in bold black letters, read:
Logan.
#lumosinlove#sweater weather#coast to coast#o'knutzy#finn o'hara#leo knut#bookstore/coffee shop au#bewitched body and soul#cw: food#cw: drink
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Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)
Summer IV
Part 07: Crashing Down
series masterlist | previous part
summary: A jarring family emergency forces you to consider the future of your relationship with Rafe Cameron.
a/n: I'm a little bit emotional about this series ending because I've had so much fun writing it! Enjoy the last part and, as always, please come share your reactions with me in my inbox. Okay, that's all from me!
word count: 2.1k words
Rafe Cameron knew how to text. He was somehow witty, charming, and hilarious all in less characters than a single tweet. Texting with most boys was like talking to a brick wall: single-syllable answers, unironic uses of punctuation, asking “What are you wearing?” before even listening to how your day went. Though, to be fair, Rafe had asked that same question a few times, which always earned him a sarcastic answer in return. Well, except for that one time.
You’d been forced to spill the beans about your dreamy summer romance to Alice and Kensie after one of Rafe’s funnier texts almost made you pee yourself laughing at the lunch table.
“Oh, so he’s a stud muffin,” Alice announced, peering over Kenzie’s shoulder at the photo on your phone.
“Please god don’t call anyone a stud muffin ever again Al,” Kenzie replied.
“What? The 80s are like making a comeback.”
“Yeah, not that,” you countered and Alice huffed.
“He’s totally hot though,” Kenzie said, handing the phone back to you. “And I kinda hate you for not telling us about him.”
You looked down at the picture. Rafe was kissing your check while you grinned up at the camera, the golden hour lighting made the whole thing look rather enchanting. It was your favorite picture of you and him.
“Oh shit,” Kenzie said causing you to look up from the phone. “You’re like in love in love with him.”
“What? No,” you protested. Yes, your brain corrected.
Kenzie glanced over at Alice for backup.
“Besides, I wasn’t hiding him. I just didn’t know if there was anything there to...tell,” you finished.
“I wish I had a handsome summer fling with spectacular cheekbones,” Alice sighed.
“Don’t let your boyfriend hear you saying that.” Kenzie chucked a fry off her tray at Alice who dodged it expertly.
“Oh, please. Matty knows I would dump his ass for someone who looks like a young Chuck Bass any day of the week. Gimme your phone. I wanna see the photos again y/n.”
“I seriously don’t know how you and Matthew have been together for two years,” Kenzie replied.
“Are you kidding? They’re practically made for each other,” you added.
“The phone, please,” Alice interjected. “I wanna thirst over your mans while my boyfriend is sucking up to his English teacher so she doesn’t fail him. Of course, I told him he needed to actually read Wuthering Heights and not just sparknotes it. But did he listen? No. I picked a real winner y’all,” she finished, taking the phone from your outstretched hands. “You sure Rafe doesn’t have any brothers? Not even like a half-step brother?”
So yeah, going great. Against the odds of three thousand miles, the whole thing was somehow working. Long-distance friends with benefits? Check. Well, except for those moments when that nagging feeling in your stomach came back and you’d start overthinking everything. His texts would sit, unread in your phone for days or even a whole week, slowly sinking to the bottom of your messages.
Then came the call from the Kildare Country Hospital in the early hours of a foggy April morning. You should have gone to sleep hours ago but were still up, desperately trying to cram Maria’s lines into your brain while also texting Rafe. The Sound of Music opened in three weeks and your director had already chewed you out twice for not being off-book, something about being an upperclassman and the lead, and what kind of an example were you setting for the rest of the program. Big speeches were kind of your director's thing, you learned to just ride them out.
Around 1 a.m. your phone ran with an incoming FaceTime call from Rafe. You pressed the green acccept button, a smile spread across your face as Rafe’s own filled the screen.
“Hey Broadway Star.”
“Hi Rafe.” The dim lighting of his bedroom made his feature especially striking. “What are you still doing up?”
“Can’t sleep. Plus you’re up too so. How’s the memorizing going?”
“Shitty,” you replied, closing your binder with a sigh. “I’m too tired to do anymore of it tonight anyway.”
“You know, I was thinking I could come to Oregon for your opening night?”
“Really?” The possibility of Rafe sitting in the audience made your heart race.
“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Ward if I can borrow the plane that weekend and I bet Sarah’ll want to come too. I wanna see my girl kill it. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Rafe. You know my friends think you’re hot.”
“Oh, do they?” Rafe replied, rolling over onto his back in his bed.
“Don’t let it get to your head, Cameron.”
The home phone ran but you ignored it, much more invested in your conversation with Rafe. The second time the hospital left a message. Your Nonna’s heart had given out. The prognosis wasn’t good. She had barely any time left.
Your heart dropped as the words echoed over the speaker of the answering machine.
“Rafe,” you said, cutting him off momentarily. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back later. I gotta-” you ended the call before Rafe even had the chance to respond. You dropped your phone on the kitchen table, dashing up the stairs to your parents’ bedroom. Your father was booking a flight for your mother back to the Outer Banks minutes later.
The end had come so quickly, so unexpectedly. It was almost like that made it harder. There'd been just enough time for your mom and uncle to get to the Outer Banks, sitting on each side of your Nonna as her final breaths passed through her lungs. Now, everyone was there to say goodbye one last time. Uncle Austin and his fiancé. Your mom and dad. Both your siblings. The entire population of Figure Eight.
☼☼☼
Rain drizzled down from the dark, gray clouds looming overhead. It was as if Mother Nature was mourning your Nonna too, hiding the sunshine away.
Three baby ducks followed their mama into the man-made pond at the edge of the cemetery. You watched their tiny feet kick up small waves disturbing the peaceful water and the tears silently slipped down your face.
The cars were waiting to take you back to your Nonna's house for the wake. The same house with the for-sale sign now stuck in the front yard. The for-sale sign with Rose's patronizing grin that you were starting to really hate. Your dad had handled that. Listing the house. He'd handled most of the funeral arrangement's actually because your mother had been too sunken into her grief to make any decision. Sending out the invitations, picking out your Nonna's casket, choosing the flowers. Your mother clung to him during the entire funeral, weeping into his shoulder.
“Y/n?” Rafe's voice called out from behind you and you turned to see him walked toward you. He’d stood at the back of the church with his family during the funeral. You had longed for him to be sitting in the first pew next to you, to have had his hand to hold onto to ground you, but it hardly would have been appropriate. Your Nonna would have sooner risen from the dead than have had a Cameron front row at her funeral.
As soon as he was close enough, Rafe reached for you, pulling your body tight into him. Your head landed on his chest and the sobs came moments later. God, he always smelled the same. He just let you cry, holding you close, smoothing his hand over your hair.
“I know you’re selling your grandma’s house but I was thinking you could stay with me for the summer," he said as your tears began to slow. It was hard to imagine that you wouldn't return to the Outer Banks once school let out. It was the first week of May already and you could feel the tourist-attracting town waking up. But selling the house just made more sense. Your older sister was already living her life in New York, a real adult life. Next summer, you'd be moving out too, headed to college. The house would sit empty for eight months out of the year, your family couldn't keep it and your uncle certainly didn’t want it. Selling it just had to happen.
You stepped back, slipping out of his embrace. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rafe.”
“Why not?”
“Cause we’re like Romeo and Juliet.”
“I copied Cleo’s notes for that unit," he joked, trying to lighten to damp mood. “Plus I was never a fan of Leo DiCaprio so I didn’t finish the movie either.”
“It means we’re not supposed to be together, you and me. And whenever we try, the universe rips us apart. We hurt each other.”
Rafe shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearly wanting to reach for you again but stopping himself from doing it. “But I can't lose you.”
You reached your hand out, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Oh Rafe, don’t you get it? You never really had me.” You stood up onto your tiptoes to kiss him just like you had the first time three years ago. Rafe barely parted his lips, kissing you back gently. Your hand cupped his face, your thump stroking over his cheek. It was a goodbye. Both of you knew it. It was an ending and this was your closure. You pulled away, your hand falling away from his face.
You couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words. Your eyes fell to the ground. You needed to walk away now. You side-stepped Rafe but he grabbed your waist, turning you back around to face him.
“So that’s it? You’re not even gonna try to fight for us?”
“What even is there to fight for, Rafe? I’ve been fighting for us for the past four years. If we were supposed to be together that car wouldn’t have crashed into ours, I wouldn’t have fallen for Evan when I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at my Nonna’s funeral. What? Are we supposed to do long distance for all of college? I hardly know who I am right now. I have no idea who I’ll be in the next four years. Our future selves might not even like each other. I’m not gonna wait around for you Rafe and I would never ask you to do that for me.” You twirled the small, star charm between your fingers, a nervous habit you'd developed over the past year. His eyes dropped down to your neck momentarily and his adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed his next weeks.
“You were it for me, you know. I tried to give a fuck about anyone else but I couldn’t get your gorgeous, stupid face out of my mind. I only wanted you.” Rafe paused gauging your reaction “I was falling in love with you.”
Your eyes wandered over his stoic expression. “The feeling was mutual, Rafe Cameron.”
He dropped your wrist but you both stood, not moving or saying anything. “Do you wanna walk me back to the car?”
“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your other hand held onto his bicep so you walked together through the graveyard back to the parking lot.
The moment felt precious and delicate, like the fragile china your Nonna used to collect. You wondered what would happen to all that china.
Rafe placed a chaste kiss on your lips before opening the door of the car.
“I’ll miss you,” you said, the words hanging in the air meaning so much.
“Me too,” Rafe agreed.
You wanted one more kiss, one more passionate declaration of how much this all had meant but that would make leaving Rafe so much more impossible.
You climbed into the car, dropping Rafe’s hand in the process.
“See you around Cameron.” You knew it wouldn’t happen but it felt better than a goodbye.
He smiled back. “Maybe so.”
Perhaps Rafe was right and you’d both end up at a small liberal arts college in California taking the same second-year Econ class with a professor who always smelled like weed. Perhaps the stars would align and two of you would realize the universe wasn’t trying to keep you apart. It was just waiting for the right moment to show you that the love you had for each other was the soulmates, forever and ever kind of love. Perhaps you would get married and Sarah would be your maid of honor, of course. You’d buy back your Nonna’s house to raise your troubling-making kids in. Perhaps, you would find your way back and wake up each day and choose each other again and again.
Or perhaps, he'd always be your right-person-wrong-time. And, in the end, the passing days will steal away your memories of the blue-eyed boy from the Outer Banks.
taglist! @oreoenthusiast13
#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron series#obx netflix#obx#obx fanfic#where it leads series#where it leads
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Heyo, dialogue prompts: 14 or 30? 😊
HI THIS WAS FROM FOREVER AGO BUUUUUT that's my m.o. so here we are. Hope you like it!!
And no, I'm never going to stop writing different versions of Frank and Karen getting together, you can't make me :)
--
14. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
Frank can practically hear David scheming, and he’s proven right when an anthropomorphic mop of hair bends into his line of sight and he says, “Hey, remember in the bunker, when we were still on the run?”
They’re both standing in David’s front yard. Frank’s van is in need of an oil change and a replacement filter and since he’s not keen on anyone else working on his getaway vehicle, he called up David to request use of his paved, suburban driveway. It’s been a few weeks since he’s managed to get over here, and David had instantly agreed on the condition that Frank stay for dinner. It’s a beautiful summer day, even if it’s a little hot, and he’s feeling a little off-kilter from the sounds of children playing all around. It’s so painfully normal that for a moment he’d regretted asking, and then David had offered him a drink. The taller computer genius doesn’t know shit about cars, so he’s alternating between fetching more beers and talking Frank’s ear off. It’s been about an hour now, and Frank has slowly relaxed into the background noise.
“Yeah,” Frank responds dryly around the flashlight between his teeth. He’s elbow deep in grease and not really interested in where this line of questioning is going to go, but David has other ideas.
“Uh huh. You know, when you got yourself on the news after that kid held Karen hostage?”
If Frank is affected by the name, all David notices is a sharp glance. “Yeah.”
“And how you freaked out and begged for my help and said she was family?”
Frank straightens and sets the flashlight down on the bumper of the car. “You got a point, Lieberman? I’m busy.”
“Yeah, I have a point. Was that all just bullshit, or what?”
They stare at each other. Frank’s jaw ticks.
“...what.”
“Thought so.”
“No, what?”
“Well you made this huge declaration and then almost got yourself killed trying to rescue her so--”
“God damn it, Lieberman, you’re never going to let that go, are you--”
David shakes his head, exasperated. “I mean, we haven’t even gotten to meet her yet and it’s been six months since Madini used her government wiles to give you a new identity--”
Frank scowls. “It’s none of your--”
The other man cuts him off quickly, hands up. To Frank’s immense displeasure, the other man looks less cowed and more placating. “I’m just saying, invite her to dinner next week. What harm is there? Maybe something good might happen to you for once, god forbid.” His friend stares him down, using every couple of inches of height to try and look intimidating. Of course it doesn’t work, but Frank is too busy thinking about having a family dinner with Karen, with his friends, like a normal person. Like a couple. He realizes too slow that David is leering at him, pleased.
“David, shut the hell up.”
“You’re blushing. Is that a yes? I’ll tell Sarah.”
--
Karen doesn’t question it when Frank calls her up after half a year of radio silence. She asks if it's a casual dress dinner and what kind of wine to bring, and then announces she’s got to go and she’ll see him Friday at six sharp.
He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than her just telling him to shove it.
--
Friday creeps up on him, and by the time he parks outside of her apartment it hasn’t really sunk in that he’s about to take Karen Page to a domestic dinner in the suburbs. Because it’s definitely not a date, even though it kind of is. It’s the stuff he used to do with Maria and the kids all the time when he was on leave; double dates and cook outs and all that crap. He’s rusty as hell and usually shit company, but they keep asking him back. And now, he’s throwing Karen into the mix.
It’s a feeling similar to being shot in the head and waking up in a hospital room. Disorienting and uncomfortable as hell.
He picks her up in the van, leaning against the side of it as he waits. The Lieberman’s neighborhood is outside the city, about a twenty minute drive. It’s going to give them plenty of time to talk, and he’d barely restrained himself from looking up conversation starters online before leaving his place. He doubts there’s any suggestions for a vigilante-cum-construction worker who’s picking up a date he’s spoken a handful of words to for the first time in six months. He’s just considering cancelling the whole thing when the door to her building opens and she steps out.
He’s seen Karen a lot of ways. He’s seen her in pencil skirts and heels and blouses, in tshirt and jeans, bruised and bloody. He’s never seen her in a sundress with her pinked shoulders bare to the world and strappy sandals on her feet. Her hair is in a long braid over her shoulder. She looks fucking resplendant. Absolutely divine. Fucking poetry in motion.
He’s fucked.
“Hi,” she greets, coming to a stop in front of him. She’s got a bottle of wine in her hands. Her eyes punch little, individual question marks into his skin when she searches his face.
“Hey.” He inhales, bracing for her reaction. His throat closes up when he gets a whiff of her perfume. So familiar from the handful of times he’s been close enough to smell it--something soft and floral, something that makes his head swim. He thinks back to that moment so many months ago, swaying together in the elevator, her skin against his, her perfume subtle under the metallic tang of blood.
Karen doesn’t immediately go for interrogating him. She only lifts the bottle in her hand. “I brought a white, is that okay?”
Wary relief loosens the knot at the top of his spine. He nods, pushing off the car to open her door. “Sure.”
When Karen climbs in, carefully arranging her skirt around her, the dark interior contrasting with the soft yellow of her dress, Frank thinks about a conversation with Curtis all those months ago. Wonders when the kick is coming.
They spend the first ten minutes looking out separate windows and listening to the radio. After that, Karen starts talking like she’s made her mind up about the evening is going to go. She asks him how he’s been, if he’s gotten a job, how Dinah is, what the Liebermans are like. Nothing is accusatory. They could be old friends passing one another on the street, the way she’s talking. Almost like she’s talking to a scared dog. Coaxing it out of a corner.
Guess he deserves that.
By the time he pulls onto the appropriate street, it almost feels normal. They’ve fallen into a familiar back and forth that’s easy to keep up with, and when he opens her door she gives him a small grateful smile, accepting his hand on the way down.
He’s not disappointed when she lets go to straighten the fabric of her dress. He’s not.
--
As always, the Lieberman household is an explosion of domesticity. There’s shoes on the stairs, a sweet smelling candle burning on the coffee table, toys and books strewn over the floor. Pictures line the walls. When Frank knocks on the door, Zach opens it like he’s been waiting for them.
“ Hi, Pete!” he greets excitedly, and then his eyes land on Karen. “Who’s that?”
“Hello, I’m Karen Page.” She crouches down to look him in the eye and smiles. “You must be Zach, right?”
He flushes, twisting his fingers nervously. “Yeah. Are you Pete’s girlfriend?”
They’re saved from answering by a sudden, high pitched shriek. “Frank!!”
Karen manages to stand out of the way just in time for Leo to come barrelling down the stairs directly into Frank, hugging him tightly around the middle.
“Frank, Dad says you were here Saturday but you were gone before I left Ann’s house!!” she pulls away and waves a book at him. “I’m reading the book you told me about!”
He grins down at her. “I waited around for ya, but your mom said you wouldn’t be home until later. How’s the book, huh?”
She scrunches her nose. “I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know. Are you Karen?”
Karen laughs. “I sure am. Leo, right?”
“That’s me. Come on, my mom is in the kitchen.” She nudges Zach and then four of them head into the other room. Sarah Lieberman is standing behind the kitchen counter, chopping up a head of lettuce. When they walk in, she beams at them.
“Hey guys, welcome! Hang on, let me finish this. Pete, David’s out in the garage trying to fix the sprinklers. Can you--?”
Frank rolls his eyes. “Say no more.”
He lifts his brows at Karen, but she gives him a jerk of her head. Frank huffs and stalks off after kissing Sarah on the cheek, Leo trailing after him talking about sprinkler systems and tools. Zach joins his mother behind the counter and peers at Karen curiously. She sets the bottle of wine down.
“So Karen!” Sarah exclaims, dumping the lettuce into a bowl. “Let’s get you a glass of wine and chat. How’s that sound?”
--
They end up on the patio furniture. After completing the salad and sides, Sarah turns on the grill and then ushers them to the corner of the patio, refilling their glasses.
“So,” she starts, and peers at Karen over the rim of her glass. “I’m going to be forward, but I get the feeling you’ll appreciate that. What’s the deal with you and Pete? Sorry--habit. Frank.”
Karen could have guessed this was coming, even if she expected a little more subtlety. And Sarah’s right, she appreciates the bluntness. It gives her a chance to answer in kind.
“I don’t know.” She runs a finger over the rim of her glass, frowning. “I haven’t--we haven’t spoken in...a while. Six months, actually. And the last time I saw him..well, it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I thought I scared him off, actually.”
“How so?”
And the story falls out of her mouth, in pieces. She hasn’t spoken to anyone about Frank, about her feelings for him--the good or bad--or about that afternoon in the hospital. “--and I thought...I thought maybe he would finally kiss me.” She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. “And then he pulled that I’m not a hero bullshit and that’s the last I saw of him. Until he called this week.”
Sarah rolls her eyes. “That sounds like him. Honey, did you know when we first met he was gathering information on David?”
“Ah, yes. I was the one who found David for him.” She grimaces. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be! We’re lucky he came looking. Without him…” she shrugs. “I would still be a widow. And my kids still wouldn’t have their father. I’m just trying to say he may do things backwards, but he ends up doing things for the right reasons. Even if it takes him time to figure that out.”
--
Dinner goes well. Dinner goes really, really well. Not that Frank was worried--there isn’t a person alive who can sit down with Karen Page and at the very least admire her. The Liebermans fall in love with her immediately. The kids demand that she stay for a board game after dinner. Leo brags about her science project. Zach shyly asks if Karen likes football. Sarah drills her with questions about her job. David keeps her laughing while stupid jokes and send Frank knowing glances throughout dinner that makes Frank want to throw peas at him.
Karen is charming, sweet, and great with the kids. She gets along with David and Sarah, and sends him warm, unsure smiles until dessert.
They play Apples to Apples, and the kids decimate. Karen is a close third. Frank loses terribly, but he’s still busy ruminating over the warm feeling in his chest at the cacophony of noise that surrounds him as everyone submits to another peal of laughter to notice.
“Frank,” Leo says innocently once they’ve put the board game away and Sarah has told the kids it’s time for bed. She stands in the doorway to the kitchen and looks at him sternly, hands on her hips. “Please bring Karen around more. It’s not fair that you get to hog her and we’ve just met.”
“Leo, that’s Miss Page to you.” Sarah tries for sharpness but ends up laughing. “Off to bed. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
“Bye Miss Page!” the kids chorus, and then it’s just the adults.
“Great kids,” Karen laughs. “Smart, too. You’re in trouble.”
Sarah sighs and pats her husband’s cheek fondly. “Yeah, we know. Somehow both of them got his brain.”
David chuckles, turns quickly to press a kiss to his wife’s palm. “At least they didn’t get my hair,” he jokes.
Karen sneaks a glance at Frank, then quickly looks away. He catches it, just briefly, as does David.
“Sarah, we should probably make sure the kids are actually brushing their teeth. I’ll tackle Leo if you tackle Zach, tag team it? We’ll be right back, guys.”
It’s quiet in the kitchen after that. Karen takes a sip of her wine and taps her fingers. There’s something on her mind, he can tell. When she doesn’t say anything he leans forward to capture her gaze. “What is it?”
“Why now, Frank?” Karen asks.
The conversation he’s been dreading. A feeling of shame bubbles up so suddenly it nearly knocks him off his chair. He scratches his neck for no reason other than to expel the nervous energy building in him.
“I didn’t want to…” There’s no use pretending like they’re talking about something else, not when she’s staring at him like that. Like she's been waiting all night for this conversation while he’s been tricking himself into thinking it may not happen. His finger dances restlessly on the table top. “I didn’t want to get you sucked back in.”
“Into what?” She arches a brow. “You?”
“Me. My life. My goddamn baggage. I know you deserve better than me.” He clears his throat. “So I wanted you to have a chance to live your life without my ghosts hanging around.”
“Frank Castle,” Karen sighs, exasperated, “please don’t tell me you’re making decisions for me. And that still doesn’t answer my question--why now?”
His expression tightens. “C’mon Karen. I’m just tryin’ to keep you safe--”
“How many times do I have to tell you--”
“As many as it ta--”
“Frank--” David steps into the kitchen, Sarah in tow. They pause, looking between the two people seated at the table awkwardly. “Oh, are we interrupting something?”
“No, David. Thank you both for tonight. I think I should be going.” Karen stands and looks at Frank. “I have loved you for two years, Frank. No amount of avoiding me or trying to protect me is going to change that. Excuse me.”
And then she walks away.
--
He catches up to her just down the street. As soon as he sees that familiar head of blond hair he pulls the van over and hops out, jogging to catch up. Karen glances at him and then pauses, as if waiting for something.
“Let me drive you home,” he asks. “Please.”
He doesn’t take her home straight away; she doesn’t ask. Frank drives until he finds a spot overlooking the water. The heat has finally broken and a cool breeze comes in through the open window, stirring Karen’s hair. He shuts off the engine. They sit in silence while he tries to decide what to say.
“I guess I should start by apologizing,” he says finally, tapping the steering wheel. He’s past nervous, he just wants to fix his own screw up. “I’m sorry, Karen. I don’t want to make any decisions for you. I should have--I should have talked to you about it. I should have started this conversation a long time ago.”
“So, start it.” She’s watching him, waiting. There’s a tense expression on her face--like she’s either trying not to cry, or trying not to smile. Or tell him off. He’s not sure which, yet.
Frank clears his throat. “Okay. Uh. I’m not gonna make excuses, I’m just gonna tell you what I know. I know that I have done some shit, and I’m going to continue doing that shit. I’m not ever gonna be normal. I know that you’re smart as hell, and you check me, and you’re a fucking force of nature. I know that I have been telling myself that you deserve more than some--fuckin’ vigilante who wakes up to nightmares more than he doesn’t. I know you deserve to be safe and happy. You deserve more than I can give you. But uh,” he takes her hand cautiously, waits for her to pull away, relaxes when she doesn’t, “...I wanna try.”
“You gotta mean it, Frank,” she says, voice watery. “You better fucking mean it.”
“I mean it. I swear to Christ, I mean it.”
She pulls her hand away and for a millisecond, he thinks he’s said something wrong. Then she’s unbuckling her seat belt and clamoring over the armrest into his lap. It’s not the most majestic first kiss he’s ever had (of which there are few) but her breath is hot on his lips and her fingernails scrape gently over his scalp as if entreating him closer. Frank makes a low groan that he hasn’t heard from himself in a long time--too long--and then Karen shifts and his breath catches in his throat. The heat of her, all wrapped up in his arms, her hair falling over one shoulder as she peppers his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw with the tiniest of kisses.
He could have ruined this without even knowing. He almost ruined it before it even happened.
“I do want you, you know,” Karen murmurs against the skin of his jaw, fingers grasping his shirt. “All of you.”
“I know.”
“Does that scare you?”
He pushes gently until he can look her in the eyes. “A little,” he admits. “I don’t wanna fuck this up.”
“You’re doing okay so far,” she says, smiling. “Now that you’ve pulled your self-deprecating head out of your ass.”
“Took me long enough.” He cradles the back of her head in one hand, drawing her closer until their lips meet again. They’re both uncomfortable at the weird angle but it’s not until the horn beeps once, gaining the attention of a woman walking her dog, that Karen reluctantly returns to her seat.
They work to catch their breaths, watching the water.
“The Liebermans aren’t upset I left so--...abruptly, right?”
“Nah,” Frank chuckles, grasping her hand. He finds an indescribable amount of comfort in brushing his thumb over the ridges over her knuckles. “Actually, I think they like you better for it. Sarah almost chased me out of the house with a goddamn spatula.”
“I knew I liked her. Take me home? I’ll make coffee.”
“It’s a date.”
--
Frank’s phone lights up that night. If he were to reach an arm over and hold it up to see, David’s text would read, WELL?? Did you get the girl, Lloyd Dobler?
But he doesn’t. He tugs Karen closer and goes back to sleep.
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Hi again! I come to you today with a question that may simply be a continuity error, but I'm still interested in your thoughts! In the main story, le Comte *knows* it was MC that came through the door behind him. Yet in Comte's "One Night, Beneath the Crescent Moon" POV story, he said he "...had no idea of what would happen next... That she would end up using the same door and end up stuck on the other side." What's your take on it? Thanks in advance! 💛
Hiya! First off I wanna apologize for how long it took to reply oTL I had originally drafted a response and then lost it when I accidentally closed the tab, and whenever that happens I always have to like sufficiently mourn the words I lost 😂😂😂
But to answer your question! If I’m entirely honest, I can’t remember what it was Comte said exactly in the Main Story in regards to her entering the door. There could be a lot of explanations for him saying he “knew”: continuity error, him wanting to put her at ease by seeming “in control” of the situation (while he’s screaming internally), or maybe even him wanting to cast some doubt as to whether or not he’s a person that can be trusted (aka the whole like “MC nooooooo don’t trust me I’m a vampire very bad very scary run away” kind of like Leonardo).
All that being said, given the evidence we have and the stories I’ve read from his POV--esp that Crescent Moon one you referenced--I’m most inclined to believe that he had no idea she would follow him that day at the Louvre. If anything I really don’t think he ever anticipated any human person could follow him through the door? Because remember Sebastian (and the suitors for that matter) only manage because Comte is their escort. Sure their will to live on was strong enough that he could hear them, but they had no capacity to approach or find a door on their own as far as we currently know. The door was closed when MC found it; this suggests that Comte fully closed off that avenue to make sure nobody wayward stepped in by accident. He did the responsible thing and he left long before he could ascertain her safe journey through time, but she still managed to make it across somehow.
That’s why I think MC’s mere existence is earth-shattering to Comte. I mean we have all the good basics: a lovely lady, sweet and hard-working, means well and does her best. And these attributes all do matter, for sure. But the door is perhaps a greater catalyst in their romance than we might have first anticipated.
There will be some semi-hefty JPN rt spoilers below the cut for Dazai and Comte, so I’m just going to keep it under wraps just in case there are people who want to remained 100% unspoiled:
TW: Mentions of suicide in Dazai’s rt
The reason I say this is twofold, based on information provided by Dazai and Comte’s Main Story route. In Dazai’s route, remember that the focal point of the story is that Dazai wants to go back in time to kill himself as a baby so that he can never grow up to write his books or cause anyone pain in the near future--essentially, suicidal ideation to a frightening extreme. One of the main reasons that he fails (though MC plays a significant role in stopping him, too) is that Dazai’s will to kill himself is too weak. In simpler terms, this means that--no matter how much he insisted he wanted to die, the truth of his heart was revealed in his constant hesitating and difficulty going through with it. This is very often a reaction from people who need sizable psychological assistance to overcome trauma; they don’t usually want to die, it’s more that the pain of surviving their experiences is outweighing any possible joy they can find in living.
But back to the most important part in bold. When Dazai asks about being able to use the door to travel through time, Charles confirms that it’s possible to travel without a pureblood escort. HOWEVER. This type of travel is very, very difficult unless you have an intense sense of willpower. I imagine the implication here is that you have to have an overwhelming desire and firmly believe it’s where you want to be in order for the travel attempt to succeed at all. (I don’t think the tethering point necessarily matters, but there is a suggestion that strong bonds between people--whether platonic or romantic--can serve as powerful guideposts when the door is distorted.) In other words, the reason Dazai relies on Charles’ moral bankruptcy is because Dazai knows he doesn’t feel strongly enough to go through with the suicide. He needs someone else who has the sheer determination and unbending will to see it through when the door opens.
This is why Dazai is forced to ask Charles to accompany him, even though Charles doesn’t necessarily want to kill him. For Charles, this is less about a desperation to kill Dazai and more about his intense obsession-love for MC, and his willingness to do anything to receive her love/attention in return. In Charles’ view, since MC is ostensibly in love with Dazai, removing Dazai from the picture permanently is ideal. While Charles’ judgement is clouded and a little horrific, he is nonetheless rock steady in comparison to Dazai’s nonstop wavering. Dazai knows that he’s fickle on a personal level; one moment he wants to die, another he’s too afraid to let go of what he does care about or upset anyone. He’s at a point where he doesn’t know what’s right or true anymore and he’s floundering, which is honestly fairly common among those who share his lamentable condition. (Most people don’t have a death wish--it’s more a combination of circumstantial problems and healing that has remained in stasis that constitutes the extremity of that behavior.)
Moving right along, Comte’s route also features a similar testament to willpower, believe it or not. This happens in the last few chapters of the main story. Basically, Shakespeare dumps MC on Vlad’s doorstep and she’s more or less suffering the latter’s monologuing for a good while. Not long after that Comte appears and nearly shoots Vlad in the head, the bullet just grazing his cheek. Comte demands that he let MC go, and Vlad--in a classic sadistic act of compliance--wrenches open the door and just tosses MC into the freefall of distorted spacetime.
Now this is dangerous to MC’s life in and of itself, but there’s a key element there: distorted spacetime. In this main story the door never returns to its normal state after that first month period. Rather, the expanse of the door is too dangerous to be traveled even by a pureblood, let alone a human being. The chances MC will ever be able to escape in order to survive are closer to zero than any other number. Remember that Comte is immortal. If he gets stuck on his own, he can’t die and the damage to his body is always more than able to heal when he’s back to safety. (He even warns Leonardo in Leo’s MS that the danger of getting stuck in some kind of pocket in spacetime is still too significant to be ignored, though I can’t be sure if that’s due to Leonardo’s inexperience with time travel/requirement for an escort, or just an inevitable risk you juggle anytime you travel through the door.)
Of course Comte leaps in after her to try to save her, but presumably their entry point is long gone now (Vlad shut the door), so they’re just kind of floating in amorphous time. They do and don’t exist. Comte is understandably distraught because MC’s life hangs in the balance; if they don’t find a way out, she is almost certainly going to die. Comte admits that--while he hates the fact that his very existence is a danger to her, he still doesn’t regret finding her by any extension. MC protests, naturally, that there’s nothing to regret. Circumstances be what they may, she loves him.
Now, here is the key. While Comte is trying to think of a way out, MC is thinking hard about wanting to return to the mansion. Her mind reflects an acute, intense desire to return home to the place where they both belong. And wouldn’t you know it? They both suddenly tumble out of the door in the mansion and onto the carpeted floor, whole and alive, sputtering in disbelief. Comte is baffled at first but it can only give way to immense relief that she’s safe, and he just immediately breaks down.
The only reason the two make it out unscathed is because of--I can only assume--MC’s overwhelming will to live on with Comte and return to the mansion. While it would have been natural for her to be overcome by fear to the point where she could make no productive decision, or even humor the concept of focusing on their home, she does it all the same with immediate success. That’s also part of why I think Comte just 100% caves into both of their feelings in the next chapter. He saw firsthand that, not only does MC keep a level head under duress, but she also has the overpowering will necessary to survive amongst vampires. And it was perhaps this unshakeable will in the first place that landed her in the late 19th century all those weeks ago.
It’s interesting because, honestly? Her entry through the door is more or less a hinge point for their romance. While it obviously isn’t the only reason he cares about her, it definitely is one of the bigger reasons he even feels safe enough to court her in earnest in the aftermath. It is literally only after this event that he confesses everything. Why he created the mansion and the men. How he’s really felt about her and himself all this time. What Vlad showed her and the implications of Vlad’s existence. And finally the truth about what he wants. He wants a relationship with her, but he keeps being held back by the fear that he’s too much. That the demand of being by his side will outweigh any happiness she might find choosing him. (Granted MC and I find that preposterous given how attentive and considerate he is, but you know). But after seeing her pull off surviving Vlad and traveling through the door by her own willpower again? I think it sufficiently lessens his doubts as to whether she could handle a future with him. It gives him the courage to just ask her: Do you want a future with me? Can you handle the demands of a vampire that cannot accept a mere human lifetime to be in love?
And so this is why I have unceasing Comte brainworms ladies and gentlethem. I need to go lie down before I start crying again, I love him oTL
#asks#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp comte#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp meta#fangdad propaganda#ikevamp dazai#ikevamp leonardo#ikevamp vlad#ikevamp jpn rt spoilers#i hope this makes sense/was helpful!#you're always welcome <3333#man i need a snack but comte isnt here so whats the point#*long dramatic sigh*#AND WUV. TWUUUUUU WUV......WILL FOWOW U FOWEVAAAAAAAAA.....#AND MAWWIAGE......THAT BWESSED A W A N G E M E N T......THAT DWEAM W I F I N. A DWEAM.#SO CHEWISH YO WUV#i have exactly one brain cell and all it does is rattle for comte 25/8#god idk how im going to wait for his wedding event in ENG oTL#i am tender#not incorrect quotes#rambles
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Hi! Could I get a matchup please?
- She/her
- Leo
- Playing multiple instruments (piano, ukulele, electric bass, and more), writing, reading (especially mystery/crime/horror/thriller), baking, and cooking.
- Likes: I LOVE reading, so I might frequent the library often just to read/check out books or study, doing any of my hobbies, watching anime, riding my bike, going to the museum, aquarium, or planetarium (gotta love stargazing), spending time with my S/O (duh🙄), and listening to music.
- Dislikes: Studying (but don't we all), bullies, being woken up while trying to sleep peacefully, waking up early.
- My love language is a mix of physical affection and words of affirmation.
- I can be kind and caring, but if I've had a bad day (which is almost all the time), things can turn sour very quickly, and I have a tendency to snap at anyone that approaches me. I also have trust issues and body insecurities (I'm on the chubbier side), I prefer a dark/light academia aesthetic. I'm also very much the mom friend in a friend group.
- I'm not really comfortable being matched with anyone in the Guild (I just really don't like them) and the Port Mafia (Chuuya and Tachihara are the ONLY exceptions).
- My favorite colors are blue and neutrals.
- Date ideas are like cafe dates, study dates, going to the library, museum, aquarium, planetarium, biking, laser tag (I've wanted to try this for a while), escape rooms (this one too), grocery shopping, breakfast/lunch/dinner dates and movie night.
I match you with...
Fyodor Dostoevsky! ´ˎ˗
👾 he absolutely adores watching you play the piano 😳 he even has a room in his house where the two of you sit and play together :) just like how he plays the cello, he’ll probably ask you to teach him how to play the piano. there will be evenings where the both of you are sitting side by side, just playing keys (he’s a quick learner so he won’t be that bad) he’ll intentionally brush his fingers against yours, just to see your reaction (he’ll be satisfied with the reaction if you blush 😌)
👾 if he knows you like star gazing—this man will go all out 😏 he’ll definitely be planning it. he’ll take you out during sunset to see the stars outside. he’ll let you rest your head on his lap while the two of you look up at the sky. after he takes you home, he’ll watch horror/crime shows with you. not that it scares him 🙄 but he enjoys seeing your reactions and thinks it’s especially cute how you’re smart enough to figure stuff out.
👾 when it comes to waking up, no problemo cuz this man sleeps like the dead 😏 no like seriously, sometimes you have to check his pulse cuz he’s barely breathing 😭 he definitely won’t be waking up in the morning—and on the rare occasion he wakes up before you, he’ll just be like “oop 🤭” and fall back into bed, pretending his eyes never opened. once you wake him up though, he’ll lounge in bed before deciding “today is the day to carry out my master plan for mass murder ☺️”
👾 at first he was a little hesitant about doing cliche domestic things, but turns out he actually really enjoys doing them !! he even has a whole room in his house full of books that you can read ☺️ common dates for you guys are going to museums—but honestly he simply just goes to try to steal this one painting created by this Russian artist (spoiler alert, you’ve been banned from 10 museums). he’s surprisingly good at laser tag 😳 especially when you just threw him in a room—he’s the last one left standing 😌✨ claims he has no idea what he did to win (but really, nikolai gave him tips because he knew he would end up there)
SONGS ´ˎ˗
- mind over matter | young giant
- I wanna be yours | arctic monkeys
- everybody talks | neon trees
- she | harry styles
- high enough | k.flay
MESSY LAYOUT ´ˎ˗
#event match ups#bungou stray dogs#bsd imagines#bsd x reader#fyodor x y/n#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor x reader
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I NEED TO SEE THAT LUPIN VS GREYBACK FIGHT HOLY SHIT THE WOLF IS A N G R Y ALSO- sirius’s reaction after the game 😏 maybe if you feel comfy with that if not it’s fine i just feel like sirius would go buck wild if he saw remus fight lmao. o r——— remus being vv bossy and dominating and- you get the idea lmfao. work your magic, love, ill love it regardless of what you do with it ❤️
Anon, this ask made me laugh so much when I first saw it. If anyone has computer skills, please record a live reading of this and send it to me so I can giggle for all eternity. I love you.
As requested, Sirius’ POV! It’s almost 2k words again and some of the dialogue is the same as Remus’ POV, but since he was in an......unreliable headspace the first time around there have been some changes. I hope you like it! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to our savior @lumosinlove
TW for a panic attack, fistfighting, and scabs/ bruises/ minor blood
Sirius was so gone for Remus Lupin it wasn’t even funny. The whole game, he had been a force to be reckoned with on the ice as he dodged checks and slammed two goals in without breaking a sweat. Remus had gone to bed anxious and awoken with a determined set to his mouth that was incredibly attractive, though Sirius had been unable to properly appreciate it at the time.
Then Leo got hit, hit by Greyback of all people.
Sirius hesitated at first, torn between rushing to Leo’s side or going to beat the living shit out of Greyback for what he did. Finn crossed the ice with Talker and Kuny on his heels and they carefully pried Leo off the posts—oh, god, he looked like he was in so much pain—while a flash of black and furious red slammed Greyback down. Remus?
Greyback seemed too shocked to fight back as Remus landed hit after hit on him, pinning him to the ground with one hand wrenching the front of his jersey until it nearly tore. Sirius had made the foolish mistake of thinking yesterday’s emotional breakdown would be the end of his nerves, but no; no, this was the culmination of years of looming terror.
By the time Sirius got his arms around Remus and tried to pull him off, Greyback was a wreck. His lips was split and both eyes were already swelling with purple-black bruises as he stared up in shock. “Let go!” Sirius shouted over the stadium noise. “Re, you have to let him go or you’ll get in trouble!”
“—fucking let me go—”
“Stop it, this isn’t you!”
“—if you even breathe on them again—”
“Remus, sweetheart, that’s enough!” Sirius heaved backward and Remus came with him, writhing in his hold like a cornered wildcat. His threats were low enough that Sirius could only make out every third word, but the pure, unbridled venom in his voice was palpable. “Just—just stop fighting me, love. You have to breathe, Remus, take a deep breath.”
“Get off me, I’m not done with him yet,” he spat, struggling to break free. Remus was strong, but Sirius was stronger—his arms didn’t budge as he leaned back against the boards and nearly lifted Remus off the ice.
“Yes, you are. Leo’s going to be fine.” Sirius grunted as one of Remus’ sharp elbows caught him in the side. “Greyback’s going to get kicked out but you need to stop.”
Remus’ sudden weight as he slumped was a surprise; Sirius nearly dropped him. His whole body shook for a second and he grasped at Sirius’ hands. “Leo—around the goal post—“
Sirius wasn’t entirely sure what reassurances came out of his mouth, but they must have been good enough, because Remus listed to the side and stopped thrashing entirely. “Lupin!” Coach barked as Sirius pulled him off the ice. Please don’t be angry, please don’t be angry. “What the hell were you doing out there?”
“ ‘m sorry, so sorry, Coach,” Remus wheezed, leaning all his weight into Sirius, who scrambled to catch him. His face had gone from flushed to alabaster pale, almost gray in the bright lights. His pupils were so dilated there was barely any of the warm amber Sirius’ loved around the edges and every breath was shallow. “Fuck, wasn’t thinking, ‘m sorry.”
Coach visibly rocked backward, his gaze flickering to Sirius’ face. “Alright, Lupin, why don’t you head back into the locker room for a bit. Black, make sure he’s okay.”
Thank you, Sirius mouthed as he wrapped one of Remus’ arms around his neck. Coach nodded silently and he felt his eyes follow them as they headed for the tunnel. “You’re okay, sweetheart, just hang on for a moment—”
Remus mumbled something and dropped like a stone.
Sirius’ knees smarted with pain as they hit the ground, but he was too consumed with Remus to focus on that. He couldn’t seem to decide what to do with his hands, grasping and grabbing at the walls blindly. “Remus, look at me. Come on, you’re okay, just open your eyes.”
“Bad. This feels bad ohmygodIhithim.”
“You did—”
“Sirius.” His voice cracked and Sirius’ heart broke. “Sirius, I hit him. ‘m not scared, just angry.”
“I think you’re a lot of things right now,” Sirius murmured under his breath. “Can you open your eyes for me, love?” Remus sucked in a few harsh breaths as tears slipped down his cheeks, but soon frightened amber met grey and Sirius reached out to hold his arms. “It’s just us right now. We’re in the tunnel.”
“So much happening. Can’t stop shaking.”
“I know, Remus, just take your time. Let it out. I love you so much, you know that? You’re okay now and you can just hang on to me. I’ve got you.”
“Why do I feel like this?” he asked in little more than a whisper as he desperately reached out for Sirius.
“You just worked through a lot of trauma in under a minute, honey.”
“It is, it really is.” Sirius frowned; he started to wonder what Remus was talking about when he began…laughing? He was laughing. Okay. That was new. It wasn’t really laughing, just short, broken-off wheezes that were a cruel imitation of the little down-up that happened when Remus read a funny passage in a book or Sirius made a pun.
And then he cried, and cried, and cried.
So Sirius held him.
“I hate him, and I feel better,” Remus mumbled into his shoulder on the tail end of a heaving exhale. It was the first coherent thing he’d said since the ice.
“Ride it out, sweetheart, you can do this.” Sirius pressed a kiss into his hair as cold hands tangled in his jersey and strong shoulders shook. The guilt was eating him alive—how could he have missed this last night? Just how long had Remus been bottling this up?
“Pads?”
Sirius looked up at the end of the tunnel but never relinquished his hold. “Hey, Pots.”
James’ eyes flickered once to Remus and his heartbreak was clear. He had always been an open book like that. “How is he?”
A pause. “He’ll be better soon. We’re just gonna head home, I think. Any news on Leo?”
“Bruised ribs, no major damage.” James raked a hand through his sweaty hair. “Three weeks and he’ll be good as new. I’ll let the guys know you left, alright? Do you need a ride?”
“I’ve got it, but thank you.”
“Sirius.” Remus’ strangled voice made them both wince and Sirius rubbed his back gently as the sobs abated into trembling breaths.
“Keep me updated?” James asked, resting one careful hand on Sirius’ shoulder.
“I will.”
“Drive safe, Sirius.” And then it was just the two of them, twisted together as Remus slowly came back to himself.
Sirius didn’t say much as he led Remus to the car, both in their socks with their skates in his other hand. The drive home was quiet; Remus curled up against the window and closed his eyes immediately. The worst of it was behind them.
Even Hattie seemed to understand something was wrong, because she nuzzled Sirius’ thigh once and licked Remus’ hand before laying down in her bed and watching them leave. “Good girl,” he said softly.
Remus managed to get two whole buckles undone on his pads before Sirius stepped in with careful fingers and lifted the heavy gear away. The scabs and bruises on his knuckles had been hard to see in the darkness of the tunnel, but they were stark in the gentle light of their bedroom. Sirius took his hands and stepped into the shower, then turned the water on hot.
A slow ripple worked its way down Remus’ back as the steam rose and fogged up the mirror. Sirius reached for a bar of soap—not mine, he says it’s toothpaste on steroids—and smoothed the suds down his spine. “Is this okay?” he asked as the muscle jumped under his touch.
Remus sighed. “Yeah, it’s good.”
He worked his way up to his shoulder blades. “Are you okay?”
There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before Remus spoke again. “I think so? I feel lighter. I don’t know yet. Did I scare you?” His voice was fragile, but not laced with panic, just exhaustion.
“What?” Sirius laughed a little in surprise. Of course he scared him, what kind of question was that?
“Your voice was shaking when you pulled me away. I was worried.”
You were having the worst panic attack of your life and you were worried about me. Sirius’ knees nearly gave out with how much love flooded through his body. “You scared me a little, yeah, but mostly because you didn’t seem like you,” he admitted, sliding his hand up to wash the nape of Remus’ neck. He had been so tense on the ice, so viciously angry and vengeful in a way that Sirius would have never expected. He spat and snarled and flailed like he was going to die if Sirius held him a second longer.
“You were fighting me like I was going to hurt you, and then in the tunnel you just kind of dropped. I was expecting something to happen once the adrenaline wore off, but it was really fast.” He poured some shampoo into his palm and began working it through Remus’ curls.
“It felt fast. That’s nice.” Damp, soapy skin slid against his chest as Remus leaned into him, then turned to face him. His face was cast in shades of pink and gold again, and his eyes went soft as he looked at Sirius. “Hey.”
The breath rushed from his lungs. “Hey.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Do not cry, do not cry, nobody else gets to cry tonight.
“Are you…using my soap?”
“It does have an intense smell.” Remus looked up at him and smiled. “You make it work.”
“Thanks?”
The pre-laugh hiccup made the lump in Sirius’ throat return and he closed his eyes against the burn, only for a feather-light kiss to touch his nose and make him freeze. One pressed to his left cheekbone, then his right, then one to his jawline, and finally, finally, the lingering pressure of Remus’ lips on his own. Lean, strong arms settled over his shoulders and Sirius held his hips like the world would come crashing down if he let go.
“Are you ready to go to bed?” he asked, leaning in once more.
A wry smile, one that was so Remus it hurt, flickered over his features. “I’m not tired yet.”
“Okay.”
And as Remus dragged him into the bedroom by the hands, laughing at Sirius’ antics and lighting the whole damn place up with his smile, Sirius knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life right here.
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Gift exchange - TMNT fanfic
Yet another slice of life fanfic with @sassatello 's original character and mine, set in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles universe (2k3). You can read the first part here.
Click here for info about : Adrian (Sassatello’s OC) and Mizuiro (my OC) Words : About 2260 /// Type : Fluff, as always! ~
Gift Exchange Unfolding the small piece of paper in his hand, Donatello smiled awkwardly at the name appearing on it. He noticed how wiggly the initial was, followed by five succinct and well-rounded letters. As he felt a small rush of blood in his cheeks, he was more apprehensive than he should have been.
This gift exchange was a great idea for everyone in their group to receive something special. However, as soon as he had noticed the “A” on the white stationary, his mind was filled with doubt. For some reason, he had thought of a possible gift for everyone in their group: A comic-book shelf for Mikey; a portable radio for Mizuiro; relaxing bath salts for Raph; a French-press tea infuser for Leo... well, for everyone except Adrian. The common agreement in their group -considering the lack of funds from most- was that the gifts would either have to be handmade or recycled. Donatello could create a lot of things easily. He knew more than anyone that making things was his specialty. Nonetheless, he was now completely in the dark as to what he could offer to their terrapin friend from outer space. How could he find an original gift for someone who has access to an inter dimensional portal? Adrian probably could find whatever he wants, whenever he felt like it, right?
The ever so resourceful mutant turtle was already running out of ideas. It took him days to admit it, but he was at an impasse. Eventually, he decided to ask Adrian’s closest friend. She was the only one aware of their relationship so far. After all, only three weeks had passed since they had their first kiss.
~
Today, the turtles’ lair was being prepared for their annual Christmas party. While Adrian was helping Raphael hanging decorations around, Mizuiro was untangling fairy lights in the living room. Michelangelo was writing down the ingredients they would need for cooking and Leonardo was decorating the tree with their father. Meanwhile, Donatello was making sure that the electrical panel could handle their future power usage. Noticing how his task involved being physically close to Mizuiro, he thought it might be an occasion to ask for advice. Fortunately for him, loud festive music was playing at their place, thanks to Michelangelo. Nobody else would hear what he was about to ask.
“So...” Donatello started innocently, grabbing Mizuiro’s attention. Have you already thought about your gift?”
“I did.” His friend sighed after letting go of a knot she has been working on untangling. “But it’s not done yet.”
“Right.” He paused. “There isn’t much time left before Christmas.”
She hummed in agreement, keeping her concentration on the many wires laying around.
“To be completely honest,” Donatello continued, “I don’t have a clue of what I could give.”
He shyly scratched the back of his head, hoping for a reaction from her friend. Eventually, Mizuiro looked up, witnessing his doubtful expression. The brow bones behind his purple mask framed his eyes in a downward curve. He was implicitly asking for help.
“Whose name did you end up with?” She asked curiously.
“Adrian...” he mentioned in a lower voice.
Mizuiro looked around to check if anyone heard him. Seeing they didn’t, she got up and approached him slowly. Still hearing loud melodies playing around the lair, she relied on them to cover their conversation.
“What’s wrong, Donnie?”
“I really don’t know what I can give him”, he repeated, “and I don’t want it to be something that’s too obvious either. I don’t know if my family is okay with us being more than friends.”
“But,” his human friend interrupted him, “what makes you think they wouldn’t approve?”
“I don’t know.” he sighed, fiddling with his own hands as usual. “It’s not really a subject we talk about in our home. I’m sure you understand, since you must’ve thought about it, too.”
His friend’s shoulders subtly became stiff.
“Adrian told me.” Donatello shrugged, empathizing about these awkward feelings that weren’t easy to put into words. “Your secret is safe with me though, I promise.”
Without saying anything, she stared at him with a worried glance. After another quick look around, she finally let out a few words, in a much lower voice.
“I understand,” Mizuiro sighed, asking herself how long she would be able to keep her feelings secret at this point. “Why don’t you focus less on your intimate knowledge of him… and more on what other people know?”
He moved his right hand to his chin, not sure what she meant.
“For example,” his friend continued, “he introduced himself as a traveller, right? This alone must surely give you ideas.”
His eyes expanded after hearing this, realizing the answer has been right under his nose all this time. Well, his beak, in his case. Only a few seconds after, they were surprised by Raphael’s voice coming from the other side of the lair. He had his hand on the sound system volume, where he had adjusted the tuning knob to be heard.
“When you two geeks are done discussing electrical power and whatnot, could you give us a hand with this?”
As he pointed the top of the Christmas tree, they both noticed how their traditional star-shaped topper had yet to be functional. Immediately, Donatello smiled and walked in direction of the tree.
“What is it? You didn’t connect it on the garlands?” he inquired.
“We didn’t want to make anything explode.” Raphael retorted, half-joking.
Mizuiro admired the way Donatello could change subject so easily, not showing any sign of his previously stressed state of mind. She went back to untangling the lights on the floor, a well-known black hand with red spots appearing in front of her. Adrian offered his help while sitting next to her.
“You told him.” Mizuiro whispered after a minute of silence.
“What?” her friend breathed back.
“About… our secret.”
“Oh!” Adrian exclaimed, way too loud for his friend’s taste.
She put her finger in front of her mouth.
“I’m sorry!” Adrian justified himself, back to an undertone. “The guy is a genius. It was only a matter of time until he figured I was hiding something from him. It slipped out.”
His friend sighed again, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
“I don’t want to ruin Christmas with all of this… drama.” She said softly.
Her terrapin friend placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t ruin anything, but I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“Thank you, Adrian.”
He gently hugged her before untangling the last two wires. He felt the need to stand in a victorious swing, both his hands showing off the now precisely arranged lights on the floor.
“We did it!” He said out loud, trying to cheer his friend.
“We?” Leonardo stepped in. “Mizuiro did most of the work, didn’t she?”
She shrugged while getting up, Adrian winking at her with the most obvious smile. This guy just didn’t know subtlety like she did, apparently.
~
On December 25th, Adrian appeared in the middle of the lair. Their gift exchange has been planned for 3 PM, but the portal user came by an hour earlier. He could never determine New York’s exact time after the Daylight-Saving date. On other planets he visited, most of them agreed on a global time management solution. At least for once, he was in advance instead of being late.
“Hey, Adrian!” Michelangelo greeted him with a smile. “You’re early!”
“Apparently?” he smiled back after noticing the time on the kitchen clock. “Hey, where should I put my gift?”
“Right here, my dude!” Michelangelo pointed their Christmas tree.
He noticed that six gifts were placed there, all indicating their names.
“Wait, is Mizuiro here already?”
“Uh yeah, she’s with Donnie, in his lab. I think she’s working on something with him.”
Adrian noticed the television was on, the weather forecast announcing snow in their area.
“Oh, can we go outside after our gift exchange!?” his friend asked with an enthusiastic voice. “Is it okay for us to go out in the day like that?”
“We could, yeah! There aren’t many humans outside during Christmas anyway.”
Michelangelo drew the attention at them.
“Hey guys! We can start early. Adrian is here!”
Raphael and Leonardo stepped out of the dojo while two heads peeked outside of the laboratory. Splinter had risen up from the couch and sat next to their Christmas tree. The seven of them formed a circle, Adrian making sure to sit next to Donatello.
“So, who’s first?” Splinter asked. “Should I just pick one since I am not biased?”
They all agreed to follow his suggestion, and he carefully gave the gifts to everyone. One by one, they opened their gifts and thanked each other. Adrian had found a cool-looking extraterrestrial dagger for Raphael during one of his travel, who then gave a knitted scarf to Leonardo. The latter gave a bracelet to Mizuiro, mentioning he had looked for trinkets all around the city to make it. Michelangelo received a pair of harem pants made by Mizuiro, which he tried on immediately. He proceeded by giving his gift to Donatello, which was a homemade “Do not disturb” sign to put on the door of his lab with cupcakes he had cooked. Last but not least, Adrian received a water bottle from Donatello. A confused look appeared on his face.
“Please, open the bottle” Donatello insisted. “There is a filter inside that should allow you to drink water wherever you find it!”
“Oh, that is so cool!” Adrian beamed. “Thank you, honey!”
Completely oblivious to his words, he kept examining the bottle and the craftmanship of it. Eventually, his attention got back to Donatello, whose face was now as red as a mutant turtle could be.
“Honey?” Michelangelo broke the silence.
“Did that just slip out of your mouth?” Raphael asked, an awkward smile appearing on his face.
“Oh.” Adrian softly winced, realizing the situation he had just created.
He looked around and saw everyone alternating their attention between Donatello and him. The conclusion was evident, seeing how shy and silent both of them suddenly were. Mizuiro put her hand in front of her mouth to hide her subtle smile. Unfortunately, someone did notice it.
“Wait,” Leonardo addressed her. “You knew?”
She was about to justify herself when Adrian disrupted the general uneasiness. He casually went sitting next to Donatello and put an arm over his now official “boyfriend”.
“I guess there’s no way of denying it now, is there?” he joked, avoiding their stares by looking at his partner.
Even if he didn’t want to admit he was embarrassed, redness had also appeared on his cheeks.
“I am happy for you, my son.” Declared the turtle’s father, whose reaction was unexpectedly calm and collected. “You didn’t have to hide it from us.”
“Since when!?” interrupted Michelangelo.
Donatello, however, couldn’t say anything. It was not how he had planned to announce this to his family. Actually, he didn’t even have the chance to think of a better alternative. At least, Adrian had made it easier to swallow the pill by saying it nonchalantly.
“Erm well… Adrian, didn’t you want to go outside?” Donatello suggested, wanting to escape this uncomfortable situation as much as possible.
“Yes!” he remembered. “Let’s go now, how about that?”
Adrian got up and took Donatello by the hand, walking in direction of the lair’s entrance. Michelangelo wouldn’t accept the change of subject so easily.
“Don’t take it badly, I’m really hyped for them! I simply wonder why he didn’t tell us!”
“Love is complicated, Mikey.” Insisted Raphael. “Let them be. I’m sure Donnie will answer our questions later. Let’s just go outside for now, yeah?”
“Make sure to come back before 5,” mentiond Splinter. “That’s when I asked our guests to visit. Be careful, and don’t taunt him with your questions so much.”
A synchronized “Yes sensei” formally escaped the mouth of the three remaining mutant turtles. They all went in their respective rooms to find winter clothing. Donatello came back with other garments destined for Adrian. Snow has always been a source of joy for the traveller. Even if he had witnessed many different climates and meteorological phenomena, nothing could make him feel as giddy as Earth’s own frozen vapor. The fact that he had associated the sight of snow with Donatello’s presence might have been a good indicator of why he liked it so much.
~
Outside, while their little group were making a snow sculpture, Donatello had asked Adrian to take a walk far from the others. Holding his special someone’s hand along the road, Adrian felt proud to be with him. Despite the shy nature of his partner, he showed much more confidence. His smile was growing by the second, not having to hide himself from anyone. Well, he still had to avoid humans, -and the cold- hence the snowsuit he was wearing.
“I had something else to give you, Adrian.” Calmly said Donatello.
“Oh? You didn’t have to!”
“I insist. The water bottle was easy to make. I wanted you to have this.”
He handed him a booklet out of his pocket.
“This is a portable photo album with pictures of our group. I asked Mizuiro to help me print it.”
Adrian briefly looked at the pages in the book, but he decided to hug his partner for the moment being. He placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, hugging him even tighter.
“You’re absolutely precious, do you know that, Donnie?”
“Ah… come on.” He shyly scoffed back. ~
(( Original art here ))
#tmnt x oc#tmnt fanfiction#original characters#ocs#teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction#tmnt 2k3#tmnt#donatello x oc#leonardo x oc#tmnt fanfic#fluff#my writing
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All of The Lights - Ch 9 (TRR AU)
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: lots of pining.
Rating: M (I can’t make them not curse I guess…).
Word count: ~ 4,000
Notes: I’m a bitch and I have no right to ask for forgiveness, only thank those who are still putting up with my bullshit!
WARNING: Read the Prologue! Every chapter has TWO timelines, Before (about a year before the Prologue) and After (two years after the prologue), if you don’t pay attention to that you might get confused!
Iris
And I would give up forever to touch you
BEFORE
There were voices muffled by the clatter of pans and cutlery at the kitchens, but somehow Savannah’s voice seemed to rise above all the noise pointing at the TV.
“Just look at her.”
Drake did, it was a sequence of pictures from the past couple of weeks, all the royal functions Riley attended alongside Liam, Leo, and Madeleine; the three women on the morning show were analyzing if Riley was there with Liam or just as a maid of honor for Madeleine. In each photo Riley sported her noble grin, he knew it was the fake one because when she smiled fully you could spot the smallest of dimples on her cheeks.
“She looks miserable.” Savannah continued looking for his reaction.
“No, she doesn’t” Drake brushed her off and finished his orange juice in one big gulp before getting up. “Riley is a big girl; she can make her own decisions.”
“Are you going already? I thought you didn’t have classes at all today”
“Well, first…” he kissed the top of her head “… I still work, and Liam texted me to meet him this morning.”
“Oh, because you’re soooooo important!” Savannah laughed rolling her eyes.
Drake pushed another croissant in his mouth and left the kitchens, feeling in the air that the cold was preparing to go away. The competition season would start soon, and he would hate to wake up in the early hours of the morning – as he used to during this events-, to cold weather. He spotted Liam with his black zip-up jacket waiting for him, with a couple of men from the Royal Guard; Drake took his time to pull up the sleeves of his hoodie.
“Hey. Thought you wanted to talk” Drake said greeting his friend.
“I need to blow off some steam, thought it would be good to go for a run. Are you out of shape?” Liam teased.
“As I remember, we did the Army training together, I was the fastest on our squad.”
“Nah, I let you win,” Liam said, and Drake laughed.
“Start running, then. Your highness.” Drake challenged him with a smirk.
After 20 laps, Drake notices signs of fatigue in Liam.
“Come on!” Drake teased, turning on his back but still running ahead of Liam.
“Jesus, what are you made of, Walker?” Liam laughed, throwing his head back almost in exhaustion.
“Whiskey and one-night-stands.” Drake laughed and stopped as soon as they reached their starting point, both leaning on the wall to even their breaths.
“Yeah, about that…” the prince took a big gulp of water from his bottle and turned to his best friend. “What happened at Leo’s bachelor party?”
Drake looked puzzled.
“Did you blackout?”
“No, not at all, actually” Drake knew Liam was trying to keep it cool, but he could see right through him. “You were alone with Riley for some time… did she say anything?”
“Liam, I spend a lot of time alone with Riley, I really can’t see your point…”
“Did something happen?” Liam wasn’t bothering to hide anymore.
Blinking a few times, Drake finally understood where the conversation was heading.
“I won’t bother to answer you, Liam.” Drake stopped leaning on the wall “Riley and I were friends since we were kids.”
“You know she’s completely off-limits, right? Even if we wore broken up, it’s Bro Code.” Liam tried to sound casual.
“Like when you slept with Erika?” the color was drained from Liam’s face when Drake finished his remark.
“You already know what happened” his answer was strained. “She was playing you and took advantage of the fact that I had too much to drink that night after a fight with Riley.”
Drake preferred to believe his longest friend.
“It doesn’t change the fact that I caught both of you naked in bed and never told Riley, that alone could remind you the WE are friends too.” Liam stayed silent after this. “I don’t know if my answer was enough for you, but I have work to do.”
“I… forget what I said, Riley has been weirdly good-behaved, she just makes me unsure…”
“That’s… your problem, Liam.
Drake shrugged and shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t give the literal back to the prince, but it wasn’t like he could handle another minute of awkwardness.
Concentrating was hard in the first hour, he kept reliving the moment where he opened the door of the room Erika was staying, how she was curled up on Liam’s chest. The surprised look on her face, from her to Liam; how she begged for forgiveness.
After three hours he figured he wouldn’t get any work done, so he decided to find Riley and see if she wanted a ride to Valtoria, he was scheduled to select the horses there for the next competition; he wasn’t surprised to find her along with Savannah at the dancing studio.
“I thought I smelled Tiger Balm,” he said as soon as he opened the door. “Should you be doing that already?”
Savannah was sitting on the ground with 3 pairs of ballet shoes and a sewing kit; Riley was right across her in a perfect split.
“You always liked the smell” Riley smiled dodging his question. “See… if you sew an elastic instead of silk, it will allow you more movements.”
“What are all these shoes?” Drake asked.
“Riley gave them to me so I could practice for the presentation” Savannah gave him a toothy grin.
Drake side-eyed Riley, the girl just clenched her jaw, sat back, and got up.
“Oh my, I just forgot I had to meet Maxwell… See you soon, bye!” Savannah exclaimed sensing the change in the atmosphere.
Drake waited until he heard the door closing behind his sister
“We had an agreement on gifts,” he said to her back as she pretended to look for something on her gym bag; he heard the clinking sound of her painkillers shaking in their bottle, she shouldn’t have been training so soon.
A long exhale followed.
“I bought them to myself, but it doesn’t seem like I’m going to wear them anytime soon, does it?” she was in a sour mood grabbing the orange bottle more forcefully than she should.
“I’ll count them as birthday gifts.”
“They are just fucking ballet shoes, Drake!” she turned with her jaw clenched, her blue eyes glimmering. “Helping Savannah is literally the only thing I’m holding onto right now.”
Her fists were balled on the side of her body and her whole frame was slightly shaking.
“Riley” Drake changed to a much softer tone. “Is everything alright?”
She closed her eyes for a second too long.
“Define ‘alright’.”
Drake didn’t say anything else, his hands just circled both of her upper arms and pulled her to his embrace, he felt in his chest as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, containing her tears. Even as a child, Riley hated crying in front of anyone.
“Hey, New York is just around the corner, ok?” Drake said and a sob escaped her mouth. “Soon you’ll be oceans away.”
Her sobbing was uncontrollable now.
“I’m not going.” Her voice was muffled by his chest.
“Wait… what happened?” he took a step back and his heart clenched at the sight of her watery eyes.
“I burned my acceptance letter two weeks ago, it was just bullshit, Drake. Everyone knows I can’t escape this place.” She forcefully wiped a tear that rolled down her cheek.
A small part of him, a part he would hardly acknowledge, was relieved to hear she wasn’t leaving; although, there was another part of him that was dying to see her like that. He always imagined Riley as an exotic bird inside a golden cage.
“You shouldn’t have done that!” he pulled her back to his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Things are going to be fine; I can’t tell you how, but they will, even if I have to make them be, ok?”
She sniffed on his chest.
“´k”
“Hey, let me take you back to Valtoria tonight, I’m headed there anyway” he moved back just a little to see her quickly drying her eyes.
“Yeah, that would be good, thanks.” She gave him a small smile.
“Be ready at 6 pm”
Drake left the room with a strange feeling at the pit of his stomach. Getting back to his office, he tried to concentrate on the paperwork for the next competition; stopping a little early than 6, he scrolled through his Instagram and something caught his attention, a smile spread on his face as he realized how he could lift Riley’s mood.
For some unknown reason, his legs were shaking while he waited for her outside his truck, it got worse once he saw her leaving the castle, wearing just jeans and no makeup on.
“Ready?” she asked, she sounded a little more cheerful than in the afternoon.
“Yeah” he opened the door and helped her hop in his Silverado.
As he drove far from the palace she seemed to relax, even more, concentrated on the changing blue sky as the night fell.
“We’ll need to stop somewhere first…” Drake started uncertain, regretting his words as soon as he said them.
“Where are we going?” she looked at him puzzled. “Are you gonna kill me and dispose of my body in the woods?”
Drake rolled his eyes and threw his cellphone on her lap.
“Sometimes I think I should…” he joked but stopped to study her face as a crease appeared between her brows.
“Are you serious?” she looked at him suspiciously. “Is this a prank? You would NEVER do this…”
“I can head right to Valt…”
“NO NO, we’re going” she reached for the steering wheel.
“You’re a danger even in the passenger seat, York” Drake pretended to slap her hand; he couldn’t help but smile at her excitement.
He parked his truck in front of the Wood Wheel and Riley hopped off the car like a child anxious to get into the park.
“Am I allowed to record?” she asked grinning.
“No” he stated, pulling his guitar from behind his seat. “I’m only doing this because I hate owing you.”
“Whatever you say, Walker…”
Getting inside, they were welcomed by the smell of Al’s greasy fries, loud chatter, and someone finishing a song on the makeshift stage at the right corner.
“Look if it isn’t my favorite costumer and again, he brought his girl that knows how to drink.” Al greeted them from the counter.
“Al doesn’t understand the term ‘friends’” he threw Riley an unapologetic look and she shrugged, making a beeline to the bar and grabbing a glass of wine for her and whisky for him.
“Drake’s gonna sing today!” Riley stated excited sitting on the stool.
“Oh, is he?” Al looked at him puzzled as Drake rested his guitar on the floor.
“I lost a bet” he mumbled grabbing his glass.
Al snorted, cleaning another glass.
“I have a free slot in half an hour, I’ll be waiting” Al mocked him.
After his second glass, he felt more at ease, especially after watching Riley chat cheerfully with Al, the remnants of her sadness not showing anymore.
“Ohhhh, it’s your turn, I’m so excited! I’ll get to check another one of the items on my bucket list for this year!” Riley clapped unable to contain her excitement.
Drake exhaled loudly and turned to grab his guitar when he felt Riley’s small hands on his biceps.
“Hey” her voice was hoarse, maybe for all the wine, she was drinking. “It’s going to be great.”
“It’s pretty packed, isn’t it?” Drake averted his eyes to all the occupied tables in front of the stage.
“It doesn’t matter, pretend it’s just us. Like we’ve done a hundred times”
He nodded and gulped despite all the encouragement from Riley.
Trying not to look at anyone on the tables, he silently sat on the stool with his guitar and adjusted his microphone.
“Hum, hello everyone. My name is Drake and I lost a bet.” The crowd laughed and brown eyes met ocean blue.
With a sigh, his fingers hit the strings.
I've been roaming around Always looking down at all I see Painted faces, fill the places I can't reach
You know that I could use somebody You know that I could use somebody
Someone like you, and all you know, and how you speak
He tried to focus solely on his fingers hitting the strings, the hot light above him, muffling any sound of the crowd singing along, or the way his heart skipped a beat by his unconscious choice of song.
Off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep Waging wars to shape the poet and the beat I hope it's gonna make you notice I hope it's gonna make you notice
Someone like me
Although it wasn’t a matter of someone, more of a matter of somewhere, some other reality, because, in this one, this was just a song, it had to be just a song.
Drake finished the last notes with everyone in the bar singing along and clapping after he finished, completely flushed, and not from his whiskey.
“You were AMAZING!” Riley almost shrieked in excitement. “this was the best night EVER! God, I want to pee… wait a minute and we can go.”
Riley didn’t let him say anything before rushing to the bathroom.
“Your girlfriend is something else!” Al laughed pouring him some whisky.
“I’ve already told you, she’s not my girlfriend.” He drank half of his shot in a big gulp.
“Ok, but have you told her?” Al looked at him mischievously. “Because she was sitting right there where you are, looking at you like a lost puppy crazy to follow you home.”
“She’s not remotely interest… Hey York! Should we go?”
Riley was back with a half-drunk smile.
“Sure!”
The ride to Valtoria was peaceful, a recomforting silence with the radio buzzing old songs while Riley closed her eyes feeling the chilly night air on her face.
Drake parked his car on the west wing of her estate, where she could get inside by the kitchen door and he would be just a short walk from the staff’s rooms. He made sure to help her out of the car, not prepared to be that close to her.
“Thank you for this night” her voice was above a whisper.
“That’s what best friends are for” he winked and for a split of a second, he thought he saw her smile falter.
“Yeah you’re a great friend” she kissed his cheek for a second too long. “Good night, Drake.”
“Good night, Riley.”
He watched as she moved towards the entrance, turning to glance at him before entering, a pang in his chest hit him heard. He hoped he was having a heart attack.
AFTER
“No! You’re not putting any animal down without me saying so!” Drake almost shouted on the phone, Yanis, one of his assistants pretended he wasn’t witnessing the awkward moment. “You’re going to wait for me to get there then we talk. Bye!”
Drake almost threw his phone on the table and exhaled loudly.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, what happened?”
Yanis fidgeted on his seat.
“Hum, Lady Riley was here a while ago, she said she needed some files”
Shit, he forgot to hand them to her.
“Damn, if you see her, tell her I’ll have them delivered to her quarters today.
“She actually asked you to meet her at 3 pm, somewhere called South Wing.”
“Yeah, ok, anything else?” the boy just shook his head and got up as fast as he could.
Drake exhaled again; he didn’t want to scare the boy. He was one of the good ones sent from the company that now took care of the Royal horses.
He remembered how was to enter his office again after everything happened. Drake actually couldn’t remember how one thing led to another; how coming back from the hospital turned to join the taskforce against The Sons of Earth, then sharing a whiskey with Liam when they finally caught the bastards. Applying again for his job as an official Royal Veterinarian, now to a company, not Liam.
Everything got back to normal. Then she came back.
He gave up on his report and decided to do some handwork to pass the time.
Riley’s back came into view as soon as his feet reached the grass; she seemed too absorbed by the view in front of her to notice Drake getting closer.
“Hey,” he said, and she was startled by his voice.
“Ohmygod… sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” She shook her head.
He followed her eyes to the window, they were facing the south wing of the castle, right beside the grand ballroom, the wing housed the conservatory and a dance studio, where right now a bunch of noble preteens were having a ballet class.
“Do you still dance?” Drake caught himself asking.
Riley chuckled and shook her head.
“I don’t dance at all.”
“At all? I pretty much saw you waltzing a couple of times since you came back.” She turned her head to face him and gave him half a smile.
“Waltzing is like shaking hands, you do it because you have to.”
“So, you’re telling me that you haven’t gone out clubbing in NY?” Drake questioned almost amused.
“Well, it was considered risky behavior for a person like me” she let the sentence hang in the air. “But yeah, I barely danced two songs in the past two years.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.
Drake stayed silent for long seconds, thinking through the sentence he wanted to say.
“You should do it; I know there’s a part of you dying to.”
He didn’t mean it to sound so personal, he just couldn’t help it; Riley blushed and looked at her feet before clearing her throat.
“Did you get her last address?” she changed the subject.
“Oh yeah, here it is” he offered her a folder with the little information he had gathered on Savannah’s whereabouts. “you’re not paying anything for it, right?”
“No, I beat up a PI at poker in New York and he owed me a favor for letting him go in his car.” She laughed to herself.
“Why does this story sound so much like bullshit?”
“His name is Damien Nazario, he was there with his girlfriend and another weird couple, you can look up for him online.” She smirked, “And for the record, I’m really good at poker.”
“So… poker wasn’t risky behavior?”
“We need to beat our vices one at a time, Walker” she laughed a little more truthfully. “So… that was another thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
Drake tensed.
“I went to the Wood Wheel yesterday and ended up bumping on Cassidy” Drake’s stomach clenched and Riley blushed from the awkwardness of the situation “Sorry, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend, she seems really nice though… hum, I obviously didn’t say anything and…”
She started twisting her fingers.
“And…?”
Riley sighed and leaned on the window,
“Look, I know it’s too much to ask, but no one never knew we were together…” it was almost painful to have the words together thrown at him. “well, aside from some people in the court… but, we could pretend it never happened so I wouldn’t lose my favorite bar.”
“You want me to lie to my girlfriend?” Drake rose a brow to her.
“No, I’m just asking for you not to blatantly tell her” he held his gaze on her shameful eyes. “Look, Wood Wheel is the only place I can drink without being bothered by people knowing me or paparazzi showing up. If she asks you, you do what you want to do, but think for a moment that we can bury whatever happened to us and just move on. This is the perfect chance.”
Whatever happened to us. Ouch.
“Okay… It’s not like I would want her to find out.”
Riley nodded not looking directly at him.
“Well… I got to go and email this stuff to Damien; I’ll tell you as soon as he gives me a lead.” Riley tried to brush off the awkwardness with a half-smile.
“Okay” Drake silently answered.
Returning to his office he got his phone back, noticing there were a couple of calls from Cassidy.
“Hey, Cass,” he said as soon as she picked up.
“Hey, Drake! How’s your day going?”
“Pretty normal, how about you?”
“Well…” she started and he heard the sound of the pans behind her. “the Chef is a little moody today, but the movement is low, not many tourists, so I’m now consuming Cordonian gossip.
“Oh… why?”
“I mean, in Greece we don’t have an ‘active’ Royal Family, sometimes I even forgot they existed, but here they are like celebrities.”
“Hum” Drake huffed not wanting to get to this conversation so soon. “Most of them are just assholes with money.”
“About that… Is ‘Lady Bitch’ related to Riley York?”
There it was.
“Yes, she’s her mother. Why?”
“Oh, I met Lady Riley yesterday… at Wood Wheel.” She finished like it was a surprise to find the noble there. “It seems like Al knows her, he even let her go out for a smoke with a glass on her hands.”
“I saw her there a couple of times in the past, before…. The whole thing”
Before I pulled her half-dead body from the ocean.
“Do you know her? She dated Prince Liam, you’re friends with him, right?”
“Yeah, I know her, everyone kind of know each other, is a small circle.”
That was safe.
“Hope she comes back to the bar when is our night, she looks like she tips well.” She laughed and he tried to follow. “Oh, I gotta go, Matt is calling me. Bye!”
“Bye…”
The rest of his shift was spent reliving the conversation.
He exhaled loudly. Drake didn’t like lying, and it felt like he was lying all the time, even if Cassidy would never think about Riley and him being anything but acquaintances; if he was being true to himself, he had been feeling close to suffocating ever since Riley came back, things were simpler then, now everything was gray, except for one of those exotic blue-ish flowers that always caught his eyes on the way back to his room.
Not even the chilly air of the garden was calming his nerves, then he noticed a light that wasn’t supposed to be there, the south wing was usually dark by that time at night, the only other times he recalled someone using it at was way back…
When Riley still danced.
He stopped dead in tracks near the window, watching as she executed a triple spin, only to stumble on her feet; he could see her frustration, her brows joined as some strands of hair fell from her bun to her face. Giving up, she sat on the floor and started to untie her shoes, she gave a long sigh when the music coming from the speakers changed drastically.
The sweet strings from Dramarama’s cover filled the room; she looked as surprised as him, they used to hear that song at full volume in his car right when he started driving. Now barefoot on the wooden floor, she got up and started to shake her shoulders timidly, then her hips followed… her legs and her arms.
Do you wanna eat? Do you wanna sleep? Do you wanna drown?
Just settle down, settle down, settle down.
I’ll give you candy, give you diamonds, give you pills
I’ll give you anything you want. Hundred-dollar bills.
The song related morbidly to her, but it seemed to give her strength, totally lost on the beat; jumping around and biting her lips she untied her hair and let it fall loose shaking her head.
It was when a full-blown smile took over her face, with dimples and all.
Seeing those little dimples on the corner of her mouth as she smiled to the roof with her head thrown back, swaying hips and arms, he remembered why storms were named after people.
.
I just love you guys!
@saivilo; @kimmiedoo5; @pug-bitch; @bee1arw; @laurmillen; @axwalker; @world-of-dreams-and-muse; @rtinaz; @iplaydrake; @notoriouscs; @mind-reader1; @annekebbphotography; @walkerismychoice; @tmarie82; @blackwidow2721; @thequeenchoices; @missameliep; @jovialyouthmusic; @perksof-everything; @choicesmacmakes; @carabeth @drakenazario; @drakesensworld; @moneyfordiamonds; @ao719; @lynne1993; @ilovedrakewalker23; @msjpuddleduck; @drakewalkerisreal; @violinist3121; @wannabemc2; @gibbles82; @furiousherringoperatortoad; @jens-diamondchoices; @rainbowsinthestorm; @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore; @emceesynonymroll; @addictedtodrakefanfic; @texaskitten30; @dcbbw; @i-bloody-love-drake-walker; @mom2000aggie;
#drake x mc#Riley York#liam x mc#all of the lights#trr au#maxwell beaumont#hana lee#the royal romance fan fiction
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A Kizunashipping short, “Poetry”
I loved like the sea washes the beaches, pushed by earth and pulled by moon, and found it in my heart’s deepest reaches. But once, I was swayed by monsoon for I hadn’t yet learn I was ship not sea, caught easily by changes of weather. I drifted aimlessly where I could not see, looking at cloudy skies for stars and feathers—
His brothers and the twins looked up from the quiet duel between Yūsei and Leo taking place on the garage floor, and all but one gave the king weird looks where he sat on the couch, a paperback book in hand and his long legs crossed at the ankles.
“You know we’d understand you better if you spoke Japanese, right?” Crow asked, an orange brow raised in confusion. “Yūsei, you get anything he said?”
The crab shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know English all too well,” he replied. “I only caught ‘sea’ and ‘stars,’ but nothing else.”
Jack let out a snort, huffing.
Of course, they wouldn’t get it; he didn’t want them to understand, just for them to have heard. It had been on his mind for quite some time, but it was incomplete. He hadn’t figured out how to continue it, or to finish it. He wasn’t even sure if it was meant to be anything but a confession of some sorts, one he had yet to voice in his native tongue. It wasn’t as if he needed to because somehow, he received forgiveness regardless and was welcomed back with open arms. That, Jack didn’t understand fully, and he had been left falling short since. It would be pathetic if an unfinished poem, unheard and unspoken, was all he could give to make up for it, so at least now, it was only unfinished.
“It’s a poem,” Jack lied with a bit of snark, waving his book a little. “Recitation is difficult, you know.”
“A poem?” Leo asked. “I didn’t get it either, but it did sound nice! Was it about dueling?”
That made Crow snicker, patting the top of the boy’s head. “Only got dueling in here, don’t you?” he asked. The bird paused. “Do people make poems about dueling?”
“Don’t people make poetry for everything?” Yūsei commented, holding his hands parallel to each other. “Like how they make boxes for everything?”
Jack wanted to hit himself in the face. Of course only a crab could compare poetry to boxes. “My brilliance is wasted on you,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The two of you,” he added. “Stick with what you’re good at. It’s definitely not poetry.”
Crow stuck his tongue out to spite the king, but he didn’t make any arguments, turning back to the cards laid out. “Get back to playing,” he said. “I wanna go next. Get ready to eat my dust, Yūsei.”
“You make it sound like I’m going to lose!” Leo shouted, pouting. “I’m getting better at dueling every day. I might actually beat Yūsei this time!”
Yūsei smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’re confident today,” he said.
“You bet! Watch me!”
Jack pulled away from the conversation at that point, going back to his book, The Old Man and the Sea. American literature, 20th century, Hemingway’s last major work. There was a tug at his coat sleeve, and he turned to his side.
It was Luna who had been quiet since Jack recited the poem, and she was hiding a smile only the king could see, using a hand to block her brother, Yūsei, and Crow from seeing. She was kneeling on the couch cushion, beckoning for Jack to lean down. He did so, his turn to be confused, and the girl whispered into his ear. “I won’t tell them, but you should,” she said before she pulled back, her smile wider than before.
Jack felt his face warm and growing hotter, his skin burning like he was being lit on fire, and his mouth fell open, his brain unable to form any words. He had never thought about the possibility that anyone else in their circle was fluent like he was. Then he remembered that Luna was a duel prodigy at the age of three. He never considered that her intelligence might not have stopped at dueling.
“I—”
He didn’t know what to say; he’d been caught, and he couldn’t lie to Luna now. She saw all his cards, and she knew it, giving the king a wink.
So Jack did the only thing he could: he stuck his nose back in his book, not even daring to acknowledge what just happened. His face was still warm, and though he was seeing the words, he was unable to take anything in properly, eyes skimming every line to pretend he was actually reading. For his pride’s sake, Luna didn’t say anything else, slipping off the couch and returning to her brother’s side as if she had never left.
One day, Jack found himself thinking, despite his initial reaction, I will tell them.
#kizunashipping#jack atlas#crow hogan#yusei fudo#leo 5ds#luna 5ds#yugioh#yugioh 5ds#poetry is still embarrassing lmao#but i cant headcanon jack as a humanities major#if i have nothing to show for it lol#(my secret is that jacks poem is incomplete because /i/ don't know how to finish it)#(i dont know how to finish fic actually)#im a bad writer with a bad vocabulary#and even worse of a speller xD#now to publish when tumblr is asleep#jack loves crow and yusei >_<#i cant get enough of them omgs#the kizunasshipping tag is just going to be filled with me at this point#and im okay with that#Flame muses
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It’s Nice To Have A Friend
Michelangelo X Reader
Summary: Taking people under your wing was your thing until four mutant brothers took you under theirs. It still didn’t stop you from taking one of them under your wing. Until you screwed that up from miscommunication and some harsh words. Can you fix this? How are you supposed to express emotions when you barely understand the situation? Is it too late to save what you broke? Can you save your friend?
A/N: For the ever-lovely @brightlotusmoon, here’s my drabble into Mikey, making his a round character in my own mind as well as on paper. I hope I did him justice, and you justice.
Word Count: +3,200
Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, self-loathing, fluff, abuse
Was living underground with four large mutant turtles weird? Sure.
If you wanted to call it that. To me, it was a family, as it was to them, brothers and a father. They had all welcomed me with curiosity and hesitancy as I showed immunity to mutagen, and retro- mutagen—both of which happened in Donnie’s lab after a mishap and me tripping over my own feet.
It freaked me out, to say the least. Again, the questioned seemed to be: what was wrong with me? Again I felt different, out of place, with no answer as to why. I loathed it.
To Donnie I was something to be studied, he tried to hide it and he did pretty well, but I caught the nuances. I wasn’t opposed to it too much, I wanted answers as well. But I wished that I was a bit more than an experiment.
To Leo, I was someone to protect. Whatever was different—wrong—about me he wanted to be kept safe from Shredder and the Kraang. Which I understood, but I also refused to fight, or even learn how. I could defend myself, but I refused to go on the offense, or hurt anyone, even if it was someone trying to hurt me. I knew this frustrated him, but he respected my choice of pacifism.
Raphael and I fought. A lot. Not physically, but verbally. He reminded me too much of my abusive older brother that I had finally gotten away from by moving to New York, and there was something about him that sparked anger in me. I found the confidence to snap back at him when he made offhand rude comments, to anyone. Most of the time Leo stepped in and reprimanded Raph before things could get too far. If the red brute didn’t back down, Splinter intervened.
Then there was Mikey. He was the only one who didn’t treat me differently because of who, what I was. Instead, we played Mario Kart until I got good enough to beat him, sometimes. I showed him my comic books and TV shows, and I watched him fall in love with them as I was. We spent nights reading fan theories, working on cosplay, and jamming to Taylor Swift.
It’s nice to have a friend.
.................................
And Mikey was the one I stood up for the most against Raph. As soon as I started to notice that Mikey was his favorite target, I got a bit more observant. Signs that I knew, because I had the same reactions around my own brother.
“You actually like that stuff? You’re so weird.” Raph muttered as we started to binge Doctor Who.
“Says the one who spends every minute of every day looking in a mirror, or working out.” I snapped back.
Raph scoffed and walked off as Mikey was silent beside me, looking down. I leaned against him as the show continued. Slowly he relaxed and we ended up, like always, tangled in blankets, passed out, as the show continued to play.
Raph seemed to back down after a while, now that I was always there to fight back against him. There was a solace around the Lair when the comments ceased to exist. Sometimes they were there, like teasing, or light-hearted jokes, but nothing that cut too deep. I made sure of that.
It was nice to be a friend.
....................................
After a few months, I felt safe enough to go back to my apartment every few nights, just to be in my own space, something that I desperately needed to stay sane. It was comforting, being back in my own small studio apartment on Cornelia. I could do what I wanted when I wanted. Play my own music, eat what and when I wanted to, wear what I wanted. I had no one to impress but me.
Mikey came over the first night that I was back in my apartment. He had a pizza and sodas for the two of us as he stood on my fire escape. I laughed to myself and let him in, going to grab paper towels.
We fell into our normal routine, nested in my bed, watching TV—this time it was season 14 of Supernatural—eating and curled up under blankets. Well, I was under blankets, Mikey radiated heat like a space heater. He finished most of the pizza while I nibbled on my one slice.
When the last episode ended, Mikey was shocked when I jumped up and threw the remote towards the TV. His reflexes were quick enough to snatch it before it did any damage, though he seemed to be in the same agitated state that I was in.
I growled. “They can’t just! It’s not fair! They! And he! And Sammy! And Jack! And UGH!” I paced.
“How is that supposed to be the end of the season!” Mikey exclaimed. “They can’t just do that!” “How is there supped to be only one more season to fix that!” I countered.
We both stared at the TV screen, in tense silence, settling down next to each other again.
“I need something to take my mind off of that,” I muttered, scrolling for another movie.
We ended up re-watching Miraculous Ladybug for like the fifteenth time. We both ended up liking the show, a weird mix of my love for cartoons and his love of anime. Nothing like a boy in a leather catsuit and a girl in polka-dotted spandex fighting an old man who loves butterflies and not his son to comfort the mind.
I rearranged my seventy-five pillows and nestled down next to the warm terrapin, allowing myself to get comfortable. Winter was setting into New York and I was about to really miserable with the oncoming cold weather. It was nice with Mikey though. I could always count on his warmth.
Letting the episodes play through, my eyes eventually became too heavy to reopen. My dreams were light and safe. They always were when I wasn’t sleeping alone. It was nice, for once, not to need melatonin, or not be up until four am, or not need my nightly counting routines to lull me to sleep.
It’s nice to have a friend.
.................................
Once a week Donnie and I worked on figuring out what was so different about me that I was immune. It was a slow-going process because I got tired or disinterested before we could make it too far, and every brother and Splinter was keen on not pushing me farther than I could manage.
“I’m a freak,” I muttered to Donnie one week, looking down at the floor.
“Take it from a huge talking turtle, you’re not a freak.” Donnie mused, a smile playing at his lips.
“Okay, but mutagen affected you: normal. Retro mutagen affects you: normal. Me, absolutely nothing. I’m a freak.” I laid back on the exam table, closing my eyes.
I heard his gentle laugh. I simply sighed.
“No one wants a freak, Don,” I muttered. “No one is gonna want me. I’ll always be weird.”
“That’s not true. You’re a wonderful person Y/n, anyone would be lucky to have you.”
“No one wants a freak,” I repeated, sighing. “No one can love a freak,”
He was quiet for a moment as if he were debating the notion.
“Maybe we’re all doomed then.” He decided.
I chuckled and shook my head, sitting up.
“Do you need me for anything else?” I rubbed my face and stretched.
“You should be alright for today, I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
“Thanks, Don.”
I almost ran into Mikey as I left the lab.
“Hey.” My face lit up. “You wanna watch somethin’? There’s a new series that I’ve been meaning to watch, or I could show you Rocky Horror Picture Show, that’s a classic.” I went through my mental checklist of things that I wanted him to watch, trying to settle on the best one.
“No thanks. I gotta patrol. Just came to say bye.” His voice was almost void of emotion.
“Oh.” My face fell. “Okay, be safe.” I frowned a bit but kept my emotions under wraps.
Watching him leave, I wandered into the main room, trying to solve the look on his face and his tone, feeling like I was missing something.
“That was pretty harsh there Y/n.” Raph leaned against the wall next to the lab.
“What?” I turned my attention to him. “What did I even do? What was all that?” I gestured weakly.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Mikey heard you.” He made air-quotes: “‘No one can love a freak’? Almost sounded like me.”
“I’m still not getting it?” I stood, anxiety clawing my insides. Had I hurt Mikey somehow?
“The kid is head over heels for you Y/n, and you just told him that you’d never love a freak.” Raph laid it out, his tone was cold and distant.
I froze, panic taking over my entire form. I didn’t think, I just did. I grabbed my jacket and slipped on my shoes. I ignored Raph’s questions, I ignored Donnie’s questions. I couldn’t ignore the hands that held me back though. I thought I heard Donnie explain through a muddled mind.
“I have to make this right,” Tears were slipping down my cheeks. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t...” I could feel my breath hiking moving towards hyperventilation. “Mikey...” My voice was broken.
I was broken.
I had broken my friend.
My best friend.
Who loved me?
...he loved me back.
The revelation was mind shattering. Both my mind and heart laid shattered, the pieces oozing into the concrete floor, refusing to be put back together.
“I’ll go find him.” Raph decided.
“No!” I shouted. “He’s going to think you’re lying. That you’re dragging him along. I have to go. I have to make this right.” My voice was squeaky and pathetic, but it was the truth.
“She’s right. Go shadow her, but she has to be the one to do it.” Donnie rubbed my shoulders comfortingly as he spoke to Raph.
I stumbled out into the cold night, cursing the frigid air.
“Mikey!” I shouted hopelessly. “Mikey, please I need to talk to you! Please!” The tears that ran down my face threatened to freeze. I wiped them away in an attempt to keep warm.
I walked quickly down the route that I knew Mikey patrolled, keeping my eyes on the rooftops, muttering his name and wiping tears away until I couldn’t anymore.
I crumbled onto a nearby bench and buried my face in my hands, sobbing for my loss, my stupid mistake, for my Mikey.
“Y/n!”
It wasn’t the voice that I wanted, but my head shot up, in panic.
“We gotta go! Now!” Raph was right beside me in a matter of moments, lifting me into his arms and taking off, in a direction that held no meaning to me.
“Raph!” I complained.
“Mikey was caught by the Kraang. Leo’s trying to get in now, but...” He shook his head as he turned another block.
Fear froze my shattered heart. The words didn’t want to process.
“Hey, hey. Hold it together kid, he’s gonna be okay.” Raph soothed, sensing my despair.
“This is my fault.” I sobbed. “I did this.”
“Hey. No. This is not... good lord kid. This wasn’t you. I swear.” Raph’s voice was hard and commanding. It reminded me of Leo.
When he stopped on a random block, in front of a random building, a warehouse, he made the mistake of letting me go.
I hit the ground running into the building, right into the center of a vast floor, filled with Kraang, and... and Mikey. When his eyes flashed to mine I almost collapsed. He wasn’t dead. I could still tell him I was sorry. I could...
“Let him go,” I whispered, taking careful steps forward. “Please.”
There was a commotion behind me, and I didn’t even have to turn back to know that it was the other brothers, coming to our aid. My eyes didn’t leave Mikey’s. There was so much hurt and betrayal in them. And now I knew why.
I jumped when a blur of silver flashed by me and into the droid closest to Mikey, sending sparks flying, and the Kraang bot dropping to the ground.
“Man, these things are always creepy,” Raph muttered.
Then all hell broke loose. Both sides advanced, and I was caught in the crossfire. Something pulled me down to the floor, and I landed hard on my wrist. I watched as Mikey’s eyes widened in horror, his eyes fixed on something behind me.
I turned and saw a gun pointed at my head, one of the Kraang’s high tech ones.
A swipe of a katana and the Kraang was no more. Leo and I locked eyes; fear in mine and determination in his.
“Go! I’ll cover you!” He shouted, stealing a glance in his youngest brother’s direction.
I leaped to my feet and dashed through the carnage to get to my Mikey. I knelt beside him, trying to figure out his bonds, thanking someone that they were only rope.
“Just leave me.” Mikey bit out. It was like a slap to the face. “I’m nothing but I freak to you anyway.”
The depressing words weighed on my soul and my body until I was held in place by the weight of his words. I had to stop my task of untying him to fight the urge to not scream and cry. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, tears making their way down my face.
“I didn’t...” I choked out. “I was talking about me. I’m the freak. I’m unlovable. I’m unwanted.” I sobbed out. “I’m so unlovable.” I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself, looking him in the eye. “There was never a day that I didn’t love you.”
Recognition crossed his face, as I sat back on my knees, my head bowed and shoulders hunched, as I finally let go of holding my hurt back, sobs shaking my frame softly as they left my lips in unintelligible self-loathing words. My arms desperately tried to hold all of me together, but no matter how tightly I wrapped them around me, I still fell apart.
Until warm familiar arms wrapped around me tightly did I feel whole again. These arms held me together when I couldn’t do it on my own. These arms and these hands picked up the shattered pieces of my heart and took the time to put them back together with care.
“Don’t leave me, please. Please. Please.” I choked out, wrapping my arms around him, my friend, my best friend, my lifeline, my Michelangelo, my Mikey. “I love you, please,”
I could feel his hand stroke my hair gently, as he pulled me into his lap, encasing me with warmth until I wasn’t shaking anymore. I waited and prepared for the worst. He wouldn’t want me. He wouldn’t love me. He couldn’t forgive me for this. I was unforgivable. Unlovable.
I sank into these thoughts until darkness consumed me.
This is what it was like to lose a friend.
..........................................
“Let her mind protect itself. She’ll come around when she can handle it all again.” The voice was muted and muddled, and made little sense.
“It’s been an hour Donnie,” A worried voice, much closer to me, argued back.
I wanted to tell the voice that I was okay. That I was here. He didn’t need to worry. I was fine. Mikey didn’t need to worry.
“Y/n!?” He called, urgent. “Can you hear me? Y/n!?”
“M’fine...” I mumbled, my eyelashes fluttering as I opened my eyes. Intense blue eyes stared back at me; tears mixed in.
“M’fine Mikey.” I curled up further into his arms.
“Don’t let her fall asleep she might have a concussion,” Donnie warned. I wanted to glare at him. I was fine. Peachy.
I still had my friend.
I hoped.
.....................................
I blinked a few times and struggled to sit up. Realizing what I was trying to accomplish, Mikey’s arms supported me, aiding me.
“You okay angelcakes?” His voice was gentle and worried still.
I nodded, ignoring my pounding headache. I looked up at him, afraid. What now? What was he going to say? What was I going to do if he sent me away? If he didn’t love me back?
“Are you really up this time?” He asked, hesitant.
I frowned and blinked a few more times, rubbing my eyes. I noticed that one of my hands was in a brace. I stared at it with curiosity.
“You hurt your wrist. Donnie doesn’t think it’s broken, but he’s not entirely sure.” He was almost sheepish to explain the fact.
I looked up at him, waiting for more. Tensed and prepared for the worst, praying and hoping for the best.
“Did you mean it?” He whispered, cupping my jaw with one of his hands. I leaned into the warmth. “Do you really love me? Freak and all?” His blue eyes were pleading with mine, begging the fact to be true.
“Since the first night that you stayed.” My voice was raspy and broken sounding from dehydration and being rubbed raw from my sobs, but it spoke the truth.
There was a moment of deliberation on his face before he pressed his lips to mine. I wasn’t shocked. I was relieved. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers twisting into the tails of his bandana. He was gentle while kissing me as if he were afraid to break me, and part of me knew that he could. If he wanted to.
But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to break me. Or leave me, or yell at me.
He wanted to kiss me and be near me. He wanted to love me. Like I wanted to love him. Freely, openly, courageously.
Pulling away sooner than I wanted, the turtle pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before his blue eyes enraptured mine.
“You’re not unlovable. And you’ve never been unwanted.” He whispered. “I want you. And God, Y/n, I love you.” There was a small smile on his face, my breaking dawn.
“Freak and all?” I murmured.
“Freak and all.” He chuckled.
It’s nice to have a love.
.......................................
Curled up on the couch on a late Friday night after Mikey’s patrol, I laid gentle kisses on his neck, half paying attention to the movie on. He smiled down at me and pulled me closer.
“I don’t see why you like these movies.” He scoffed.
“Reminds me of you, us,” I whispered. “He’s so keen on protecting her, he almost loses her. He’s part of another world that she gets thrown into, and walks in it willingly. She’s different though. She’s immune to their powers.” My eyes flickered to the screen. “‘I tell you I can read minds, and you want to know if there’s something wrong with you?’” I quoted.
He chuckled and rolled his eyes.
“You’re such a dork.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“But I’m yours.” I grinned cheesily up at him.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It’s nice to have a friend.
..................................
Don’t be afraid to comment and reblog! I love knowing what you guys have to say and I love your feedback always!
#tmnt#tmnt mikey#tmnt michelangelo#TMNT x reader#tmnt x you#tmnt mikey x reader#mikey#mikey x reader#mikey x y/n#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt splinter#tmnt kraang#leo#raphael hamato#donnie#michelangelo x reader#michelangelo#angst#fluff#panic attack
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The Last Day of Mediocrity
AKA, “Enter Marvin, Stage Left.”
Word count: 2382
Here’s a little ditty I like to call: Whoopsie, completely forgot to put these on Tumblr so now I’m posting three chapters in rapid succession. This is my take on Marvin’s creation, hope you enjoy!
AO3 Link Here
Marvin O’Sullivan paced around his apartment, talking animatedly on the phone. “It was great, you shoulda seen the kid’s face! I think Luke took a video of it. And we made so much cash, I’m gonna make my rent and then some this winter.”
“So what I’m hearing is ‘I had a great time, Emily, thank you for convincing me to go even though I was being a stubborn brat.” replied the phone.
Marvin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry for being a dick about it. But c’mon, cut me some slack! This was my first time leaving the country.”
“Well, that’s the kind of shit that happens when you’re homeschooled.”
“I’m not disagreeing.” Marvin snorted. He sat down on his sofa and started flipping through a book. “Really, Em, thank you for letting me take your spot.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it.” she said. “Gotta keep the talent fresh, am I right? Seems like it did you some good.”
“Yeah, it did. I got so inspired by the other performers there, I gotta jot some of these ideas down. Talk to you soon?”
“Sure will. Bye Marv.”
“Bye Em.”
Marvin hung up the phone and slumped back into the couch. He summoned his notebook and started writing.
quick change?
Art on stage for ambience ambiance
More riffing w/ audience
kid orented set?
balancing shit
Amethyst out of juice
Need more rosemary
Flashier teleportation: saltpeter, indigo? got a theme
buy coffee
Small flames
↑LOTS OF PRACTICE↑
Aura residue on cards
After a few minutes of brainstorming, he put down the notepad. If he was going to get
anything done, he needed to do some shopping. Which then lead to the hardest decision of any day.
What to do about his face.
He fiddled with the crude mask in his hands. Deal with disgust, or deal with disapproval? There was, of course, no good option. Either way people were going to stare at him. And normally he loved the attention. Hell, it was why he chose a career as a busker. But then, it was okay to be wearing a marker-covered mask from Poundland. At Tesco, not so much.
His hands automatically went to his cheek. Even after five years, the skin was scarred and rough. He remembered the doctor saying it would be that way for the rest of his life, never fully healing.
The flames around him grew higher as he screamed, Ma, please, help me!
He stopped that train of thought right in its tracks. He was better off now. He was a fairly successful performer, he was providing for himself. He had coworkers who respected him, and people at the local coven who said he was the most talented wizard they’d seen in years. Hell, he even went to Pride in Dublin last month! Everything in his life was flying in the face of those assholes.
He was strong. He was accomplished. He was magnificent.
“Fuck it.”, he muttered, pulling the mask over his face.
Today, he was going to be who he wanted, general public be damned.
>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<
A few hours later, he returned to his flat, arms full of bags. He hung his mask up and shoved the door closed with his hip, making a beeline for his kitchen. The green light from the orb reflected off some of the cans and into his face, so he put those away first. Then he threw the beef in the fridge, restocked the butter, and shit, he was almost out of jam. Why didn’t he notice that this morning?
Finished with the groceries, he closed the pantry and grabbed the other bags. The more volatile plants would need to be stored carefully to prevent reactions, and he needed to grab some iron shavings for that new potion, and-
Wait.
Green glowing orb?
Marvin turned toward the TV, confused. Sure enough, there was a strange sphere floating above his sofa.
What the hell?!
He backed himself slowly into the wall. Thankfully, it didn’t react, but he still moved very carefully toward the hall. As soon as he figured he was out of its line of sight, he ran into his bedroom and slammed the door shut.
“Okay, okay, calm down.” he whispered. He couldn’t think of any recent spells that could have caused...that.
Which meant this was something else. An intruder?
He ran for his bookshelf. Panicking, he pulled out the largest book he could find and started flipping through it. “No... no...no, come on!” He dropped that one and grabbed another. Halfway through it, he found the section on wards. “Okay, okay, weak, strong, proactive.. ...reactive!”. Silently cheering, he went over the spell in his head. Nothing too complex, just some clove and mugwort. He dogeared the page, grabbed those herbs, and left his room.
The orb was still there.
Marvin cursed and laid the supplies in front of him. He opened the book and started to cast the spell.
“Cruinne beannaithe, iarr mé do chumhacht. Moladh dom neart agus rath a thabhairt dom.”
Purple energy began to swirl around him. He relaxed, but then noticed the other light source was growing brighter.
“Bacainn a chur in aghaidh olc. Cosain an teach seo ó dhaoine ar mian leo dochar a dhéanamh orm!”
His voice grew louder with fear. The things should have been weakening by now! He squinted, the light making it harder to read.
“Iarr mé go héasca-”
Just as he reached the climax of the spell, the light became overpowering. He dropped the book to cover his face, and his magic vanished. He could feel power swirling around him, foreign and uncomfortable. It grew brighter and more stifling, making him cry out, until suddenly there was a flash, and everything disappeared.
Including himself.
>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<
Several miles away, he crashed to the floor. “Shit, shit, shit.” he muttered, scrambling for his spellbook. If he was quick, he could whip up a teleport before anyone noticed he was here-
“Uhh…”
Marvin whipped around. Standing in a doorway was a dumbfounded teenager, holding a steaming mug. He froze, still on his knees, grasping the book. “Hi….?” continued the teen.
Marvin was on his feet in a second. “I don’t know who you are, but let me go, now, and no one will get hurt.” he snarled. The other guy took a step back. “What? Let you go? You’re the one who materialized in my cousin’s flat!”
Marvin lowered his hands. “You didn’t summon me here?” he asked. “Then what was that light in my living room?”
“Light?” the kid repeated. He perked up. “Like a green, glowy orb thing?”
Marvin nodded. “Okay, great!” the other said. “I mean, not super great, cause I bet you’re confused as hell, but that explains a lot!” He fished a phone out of his hoodie pocket. “I’ll text Seán. He’ll need a few minutes to stop recording, but then he can help you figure stuff out. You’re probably Marvin, right?”
Marvin bristled. “How do you know my name?” he hissed.
Kid shrugged. “It’s kinda complicated.” He held out a hand. “I’m Jackie. You want anything to drink? There’s still hot water in the kettle, I think.”
“Sure.” he replied, shaking Jackie’s hand warily. Marvin followed him into the kitchen, not wanting to let this stranger out of his sight. “You cast the spell that pulled me here, then?”
“Pfft, nah.” Jackie snorted. “I can’t do magic. Not traditionally, anyhow. That’s Seán’s scene.” He pulled another mug out of the cupboard. “Earl grey cool?”
“And Seán is your...cousin? The one who owns the flat?” Marvin guessed, leaning against the wall.
“Eehhh…”Jackie replied. “Technically no? He’s got custody of me, but we’re not...exactly...related. At all.”
“Then why..?”
“So we may have fudged the papers a bit. But hey, no harm done, right?”
Marvin stared at him. “And you’re just telling me, a random stranger, this? Not a great way to stay in his custody.”
Jackie shrugged, pouring more tea. “You’re gonna be living with us anyway, so why not?”
“Wait, what the hell?” Marvin stood up suddenly. “How did you get to that conclusion?”
“Shit.” Jackie replied. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, usually people like us stick together. I think. I’m still the first one here, but with the others, it seemed like-” he stopped. “Marvin, you okay?”
Marvin wasn’t listening. What the fuck did he mean by that? He’d said he wasn’t trapping him here! He hadn't felt any wards when he’d got here, but Jackie had acted like he wasn’t leaving. How was he so calm about this? His chest was tightening. Was it darker magic that had brought him here? Was this Seán dude a warlock, had he brainwashed this kid? He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want any exposure to corrupt magic. The last time that had happened…
What the hell are you talking about? Please, just help me!
“Hey, Marvin, dude.”
Marvin’s head snapped up. When had he sat on the floor?
Jackie knelt next to him. “You back with me?” he asked.
“Y-yeah.” Marvin stuttered, accepting Jackie’s help as he stood up.
Jackie nodded. “Great. You really spaced out there for a sec.”
Marvin rubbed at his face. “Sorry, I-” he stiffened. He didn’t have his mask.
Jackie backed up as Marvin started looking around frantically. “You need something or…”
“My mask. Did you see where it fell?”
Jackie shook his head. “I didn’t see any mask.”
“I need it.” Marvin insisted. He hated how standoffish he sounded, but this was important.
Jackie bit his lip. “I can go look, if that would help.”
“I need it.” Marvin repeated. “People are going to see.” See...see…
But Jackie had already seen his face. He hadn't been wearing it when the orb had shown up.
“Yeah, I got nothing.” Jackie said, returning to the kitchen. When had he left?
“Never mind.” Marvin said shortly.
“Are you sure? It sounded important-”
“Just drop it.” Marvin, pushing Jackie aside.
Jackie looked lost. “Oookay?” Then his phone dinged. “Oh! Seán’s finished recording. He’ll be down in a sec.”
Right. Fuck.
Marvin turned back to the living room. “So what exactly is going on?” he asked as they sat on the couch. His hands twitched, ready to cast at any moment.
“What did you need Jackie?” a new voice said.
Marvin turned. Standing in the hall was a man a few years older than him, maybe 25? He looked confused, but that changed to shock when he saw Marvin. “Oh.”
“Tada…” Jackie said, doing jazz hands in Marvin’s direction. He stopped when Marvin glared at him. “Where the hell am I?” he demanded, standing up. “He says you pulled me here. What the fuck do you want?” His hands glowed purple.
Seán raised his hands. “Calm down man. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Marvin’s eyes narrowed. “Explain. Now.”
“You know what a tulpa is?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Okay, so, as far as I can tell, sometimes the universe tries to make tulpas based on characters I do, but it gets lazy and just pulls someone similar here instead.”
Marvin stared at him in disbelief. “What?”
“Look, I don’t get it either. Jackie can vouch for me though, he got pulled here when I did a superhero character last month.” The teen waved nervously.
“What, and you think I’m like that? I’m human, not preternatural. Don’t pull that ‘magicians are a different race’ shit, that got disproven in the seventies.”
Seán pulled a face. “Hell no. I’m just trying to make an analogy. Nothing really fits with this situation.”
“Just...okay, fine, I’ll go along with this. For now.” Marvin said, rubbing at his face.
Seán stuck out a hand. “I’m Seán McLoughlin. Nice to meet you.”
Marvin shook it. “Marvin O’Sullivan.”
“Wait, wait?” Seán pulled back. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen you since we were kids! How have you been?”
“Huh?” Marvin squinted at him. Then it clicked. “Jack!?”
Seán beamed. “Yeah! Man, of all people...it’s good to see you.”
“Wait, you two know each other?” Jackie interrupted.
“The McLoughlins used to be some of the strongest magic users out there. My parents wanted connections, so we used to hang out.” Marvin explained.
“Yeah, I was the only kid in our family around his age, so we’d play together when the adults were talking.”
Marvin looked Seán up and down. He seemed to be doing pretty well for himself. He was almost as energetic and happy as he had been when they were kids. And if that hadn’t changed, well, he didn't seem like the type to deal with shady magic.
“Alright then. What was it you were saying about tulpas?”
>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<
Marvin stared out the window of the bus. Thankfully, Seán had paid for his fare back to Galway, since he’d left his wallet in his flat. He’d be back to his place by midnight.
This was a lot to process. Meeting someone from his childhood like that, well, it had brought a lot back up. Stuff he’d rather keep buried. He’d burned most of those bridges, and the rest had been burned for him. Now, a lot of the wreckage from those fires was coming to light.
Oh yeah, and the whole “figment of the imagination” thing. That was a lot to take in too.
Still, it was nice to see Jack again.
Marvin looked down at his phone. Seán had given him his number if they needed to get back in touch.
Of all the people he used to be close to, Jack was probably the least asshole-y. Maybe talking to him more would be nice. Especially since they had similar backgrounds.
The drive to Athlone was short enough that he could travel it for a weekend.
He opened the texting app.
From: M. O’Sullivan
To: S. McLoughlin
M.O.: Hey, could I come back up in a few days? I’d like to hang out more.
A few moments later, the phone dinged with a reply.
S.M.: Sure thing! :)
#writersofjack#writers of jack#marvin the magnificent#marvin the magician#jackieboy man#jackieboyman#jacksepticeye#jacksepticeye fanfiction#jacksepticeye egos#septic egos#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#the last day series
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Not so ordinary:
But why me?
(Not my GIF)
Warnings: Nada
A.N: This is slightly based on something I experienced in the past. I have a huge amount of characters (around 30) and some of them are going to be placed In this story.
Doctor Who and Sherlock Holmes (Jeremy Brett version) inspired me :)
Word Count: 1,742
Prologue: But why me?
It started with a few whispers in my ear, actually, barely above that. They were a little quiet at first, but then they began to get louder and louder after every step I took into the path that leads to my home.
I lived in a small town, not as big as Manchester, for example. Maybe half the size. This place was manageable enough to memorise every road but not by name, unfortunately for me.
My house was up high in the hills where you can see the whole town. It wasn't such a far distance to get up there by walking from school, but people say otherwise. They always questioned me how on earth I walked such a steep hill with no difficulty every day. I would laugh as an answer, but the truth was, I always had company to keep me going—the voices in the air.
I would usually listen to some music with my MP3 player to distract me from my tiredness; it motivated me to keep going. The voices did the same thing, they would whisper motivational quotes to me, like 'You're almost there', 'You got this', 'You're strong', etc.
At first, I thought the voices were a part of my imagination, something to keep me feeling uplifted before entering my home. But as time went by, I began to realise that I would only hear the voices when I was walking up the hill, the rocky path surrounded by enormous trees, blocking the sunlight with their strong branches.
In conclusion, I could only hear the words muttered in the air through the path. But from what? From where? How?
I couldn't answer those questions, neither I knew who to ask.
I thought of asking my mom about these strange events, but I didn't think she would believe me. She would either get shocked enough to book an appointment for a psychotherapist or ignore my words and think it was just part of my imagination, and I was asking for her attention.
To be fair, I wished she could pay more attention to me or at least listen to me more, but she was always busy doing phonecalls or keeping her eyes on her laptop for hours. Despite that I didn't understand her job, I would usually ask if she needed help to strike a short conversation.
My mom used to be such a conversationalist when I was younger until my dad left us. All I remembered from that painful memory was him getting inside the car and giving me one last glance before driving away with no return. I was only eight years old.
And now, five years later, here I was, sitting on a bench halfway through the shadowy path, talking to the voices quietly in case someone walked by. Despite the number of times I spent walking through this path, I barely saw a person walk past me, like as if the voices allowed me to pass and no one else. But why me?
I paused and began to analyse anything exciting or unique about myself in my head while my fingers tangled with the end of my sapphire coloured school blouse.
For a young girl like me, I am brilliant and observative. I didn't like wearing colourful clothing like the other girls would always wear. I wore warmer colours, to express my love for the season Autumn. I despised wearing skirts. I couldn't stand them for one reason only; the boys wouldn't stop messing with them. Thankfully, I was stubborn enough to make the school let me wear trousers. I didn't care for the hurtful comments and laughter that went around the class whenever they saw me. But thankfully the teachers would stand up for me no matter how much I insisted that it wasn't a bother.
I enjoy playing baseball, but it would be more fun playing it with people. I just throw the ball up in the air and practice my swinging with the bat to hit it every time. My mom had DVDs of full baseball games so that I knew how to play it. I usually do my homework in my treehouse and stargaze whenever I finished. My favourite constellation was Leo Minor, located on the second quadrant of the northern hemisphere. According to my grandfather, the astronomer Richard A. Proctor renamed the constellation to Leaena or the Lioness in 1870.
I had no idea why the constellation intrigued me, probably because it's his favourite too. He and I are very much alike due to our fascination with learning and astronomy. We almost share the same clothing style. Of course, he didn't force it upon me or anything, he inspired me, and I admire him.
I remember him telling me that he used to teach the things that he knew to my mom, but she wasn't as interested as I was. She was more curious about what my grandmother used to do. She would talk to her about literature and writing. Unfortunately, she passed away when my mom was a teenager.
My grandfather and I visit her sometimes to leave her favourite flowers, sunflowers. It's a shame I wasn't able to meet her, but after the stories he told me about her, I could see how much my mother resembled my grandmother. Even in their pictures, they looked very much alike.
Me, on the other hand, I resembled my grandfather more. And I would always be happy about it.
Despite how different and boring I was, according to many people, I loved eating junk food, especially candy. I have a sweet tooth for lollipops and toffee. My mom would find candy wrappers in my treehouse sometimes that she would take away my coins just so I would stop buying them; otherwise, I would get an upset stomach.
Whenever I went to visit my grandfather, he would be kind enough to spare one toffee to put a smile on my face.
I also love painting, especially the flowers of all kinds. I'm not able to choose a favourite because I had many in mind, like, Angelica, Clematis, Honeysuckle, Magnolia, pink roses, yellow Jasmine, etc. My mom was the one who taught me a few tricks when she was less occupied.
It helped me relax to forget all the bad things going on in school; all the comments about my clothing, my hobbies, my intelligence, all the jealousy they would put on me to tick me off. To ease the discomfort even further, I would repeat my grandfather's words like a mantra, 'You're as bright as Leo Minor, no matter how the dull people see you'.
I paused my thoughts to wipe the incoming tears in the corners of my eyes before they fell. Weird enough, I barely shed a tear ever since my dad drove away. But to be fair, I was pleased with my life as it is now. No matter how grey things seemed to be, like my mother not having enough time to spend with me and not being able to make friendships, I had everything I needed.
Back to my train of thought, I also enjoyed reading books. Mostly about astronomy and space. I remembered the look on the receptionist's face in the library when I approached her with my hands full with a tall stack I almost tripped. I was surprised myself that I could handle fifteen books with my thin arms.
Surprisingly, the receptionist handed me two bags for free. I had no clue why was she so kind enough to do that action due to how blandly she talked to other people. Maybe she liked people who had real interests in reading instead of the ones who were using the computers to play games.
Last but not least, I was usually silent but not in class whenever I had questions or answers. I wasn't very energetic around anyone besides my family. I kept a collection of crystals in my wooden box in the treehouse, and I had a safe spot for it so it wouldn't get stolen.
So, I was just a normal boring girl with interests in things that not many people liked. But I had a fantastic family. What was so interesting about that, in me?
After how much whatever god knows time flew through my thinking process, I looked up at the branches rustling by the strong wind. It sent shivers down my spine, and I didn't know why, but it felt like the voices were reading my thoughts and highly disagreed with my words.
I began to hear them once again, along with a soft gush of wind messing my hair; it made me giggle quietly. "Special, special, special!" They said repeatedly.
I answered with a slow head shake, not caring for their reaction. Although it was a kind gesture and I cherished it. "Thank you uh...voices?" I didn't know what to call them since I didn't know what they were exactly. But they answered my question with soft giggles.
"Aurae! Dryads!"
I raised my eyebrows, confused. What did they mean by that? Were those the names of two different voices or more?
Instead of pressing further, I decided to take out my journal from my school bag along with a pencil to write down the words unknown to my knowledge. I didn't know how they spelt, but I tried my best to write them correctly. "Okay? I'm not sure what that means, but hopefully, I'll figure that out soon enough" I said as I looked at my watch.
Once I looked at where the handles were pointing anxiously, hoping that It wasn't the time that I thought it was.
It had been twenty minutes since I sat down on the dark wooden bench, and I needed to get back home before my mom would force herself to stop what she's doing and look for me.
I zipped my bag closed and strapped it around my back before continuing my short journey. I looked up one last time and closed my eyes to enjoy the soft breeze enclosing around me, like as if it was a hug but without the second person. "I'll see you at the treehouse," I said before stepping forward.
I took out my earplugs connected to my MP3 player to listen to some of my favourite songs to accompany me as I walked. Before I pressed play, I heard their reply while taking off.
"Farewell Amelia"
#not so ordinary#astronomy#bookworm#multichapter#nature#night owl#old-fashioned#ocs#my oc#my ocs stuff#tomboy#original story
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Introductions
Summary: Drake needs some fresh air and space to try to come to terms with who he thinks he saw as well as how it’s effecting him.
Word Count: 1967
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimer: Just borrowing the characters from Pixelberry.
Part 3 of WP. To catch up read here.
Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore@dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @indiacater @sirbeepsalot@burnsoslow @umccall71 @enmchoices @speedyoperarascalparty@zilch3 @lodberg @annekebbphotography@choicesteamdrake @pedudley @bobasheebaby @cora-nova @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @ao719 @darley1101 @kingliam2019 @janezillow @araihc-ce
Riley wakes up, looking over to see a restless Drake staring at the ceiling. Looking at the alarm clock, it reads 8:30AM.
“Babes, talk to me,” she turns on her side, placing her hand on his arm.
He’s shaking his head, “I’m sick of trying to talk about it. No one wants to even try to understand me.”
“Drake. That’s not true.” She sits up, frowning at her husband.
Running on an insanely low amount of sleep, his anger gets the best of him, “You, Mom and anyone else I try to talk to just wants to chalk it up to some stressed induced bullshit!”
Riley looks at him as though he’s lost his mind, “Excuse me?”
“Forget it!” He gets out of bed, slamming the bathroom door as he goes in.
She sits on the bed, not sure how to go about what just happened, he’s never been so worked up before. The sink faucet cuts on and she decides to go ahead and pick out an outfit for the day.
When Drake finally comes out, he’s only in his boxers, and she can smell his fresh application of cologne. There are no words exchanged between them, so she tries to peak his interest. She walks up behind him, wrapping her arms around him. Her hands begin to trail down his chest, playing with the elastic band of his boxers.
“Riley stop,” he jerks away from her, “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m trying to help take your mind off this,” she stomps her foot.
“I don’t want my mind off of this. I want help understanding this. I want to be believed. I want help.” He finishes pulling his shirt over his head, grabbing a flannel and adding it to his outfit.
“Drake.”
“I’m going out, I need to get a change of scenery.” Before she can protest or plead, he snatches up his keys and heads out, letting the door slam on the way out.
She sinks on the bed, letting out a deep breath, I definitely could have handed that better.
She walks into the half-finished nursery, letting out a deep breath. She’s nervous about this as well, being a mother wasn’t something she had planned to be in her cards. Especially not with her own family drama. Part of her wants this Jackson Walker to be real, to be his estranged father. Drake needs that piece of him that’s been gone for so long. But secretly, Riley hopes that this is just a case of the same name game. She likes that she has him all to herself, that it’s just them against the world, she doesn’t want to have to share him.
* *
Drake sits in his truck, he wasn’t completely sure of where he was. Ever since they moved to Montana, he hasn’t had as much time to simply explore. That was initially the plan, they were going to move and explore all that they could together, but in the short amount of time they’ve been there, work and life have gotten in the way of their adventures.
He pulls off the side of the road and gets out of the pick-up. There’s a large open field that he starts walking through, hoping the fresh air and large space can help clear his head.
Drake is running around the palace grounds with Liam and Maxwell as Savannah and Olivia sit on the swing.
It’s been about a year since Jackson passed away and a little less than that since Bianca left without so much as a forwarding address. Bastien has tried his hardest to live up to Jackson Walker and how he’d want his children to be cared for. Constantine seemed to harbor much distaste towards the Walker children, especially Drake, but Bastien didn’t think too much into it. However, Liam’s pleads are the only real reason he can think of as to why the King has given them solace at the palace. Bastien was thankful, he honestly didn’t know where he could’ve found work if he had to take the children and leave.
During most days, one of the personal aide’s would help watch the Walkers’ while Bastien carried out his guard duties. This was partially because the aide was waiting for a new queen to work for, but also because her and Bastien had recently started seeing each other.
“Alright kiddos, Drake, Savannah, it’s time to go in and wash up!” Bastien shouts, walking towards the cabin that used to be Jackson’s.
Even though Bianca had put it in his name, he still didn’t feel right being here. But it was the children’s home, they had already lost so much, Bastien wasn’t going to take more from them.
He fixes them dinner, gets the washed up and tucks Savannah into bed. Drake requests a story be read to him, so Bastien pulls a book off the shelf and sits on the edge of his bed. He reads the same book that Drake asks to hear every night, closing it when he’s finished.
“Alrighty, buddy. It’s time to go to bed.” Bastien walks towards the door, flipping on his nightlight.
“Okay.” Drake rolls over on his side, pulling the blanket closer to his chin.
“Goodnight, buddy.” Bastien starts to pull the door shut.
“Night Dad.”
He stops in his tracks, he’s not sure if Drake meant that or if it was just habit.
“What’s that Drake?”
“I said goodnight Dad.” Bastien sighs, unsure of how exactly to handle this. He walks over to his bed and sits on the end of it.
“Drake, I think we need to talk,” he places a hand on Drake’s shoulder.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No buddy. You can call me Bas, but I could never replace your dad.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Not one bit, but I just want to remember that you only have one dad and just because he’s gone doesn’t mean that he’s not still your dad.”
“Okay, Bas. Do you think one day you can tell me stories about him, so I don’t forget him?”
Tears prick the corners of Bastien’s eyes, “Of course I will. I won’t let you or Savannah forget him.” He tucks Drake in more before pulling the door almost completely shut and walks into the bedroom he’s been using.
* *
Drake looks up at the sky and screams as loud as he can. The few cows that are in the field look over at him, as though he’s lost his mind before they go back to eating the grass.
For the first time in a long time, he feels completely alone. Usually he had Riley to talk to and before her, he had Liam but he knows both of them will be rational about all of this. So, he decides to call the one person he knows won’t be so rational.
“Hey! Long time, man!” The voice on the other end exclaims.
“Too long. I need to tell you something and I need your hatred for rational thought.”
He chuckles, “Leo Rys, at your service.”
Drake fills Leo into the recent events and the reactions of his mother and Riley.
“Dude, go for it. Confront him. If it is your dad, then he has a lot of explaining to do. If it’s not then I’m sure he’d see where you were coming from.” He takes a deep breath, “If it was me and I thought someone was my mom, let’s just say that I wouldn’t stop until I knew for sure that she wasn’t her.”
“Thanks Leo. For the first time you’re the only one who makes sense,” he chuckles.
“Keep me updated, let me know if you want me to come visit sometime. I’m an excellent PI.”
“I appreciate that.”
The two end their phone call and Drake starts to head back to his truck. Once he’s in, he starts driving down a dirt road he’s never been down before. Before long, he pulls up to a old corner shop, one that looks like it’s been around for years.
“Welcome!”
“Morning!” Drake says, “I’m just out and about clearing my mind, thought I’d take a look around.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do,” Drake says as he begins strolling through the aisles. He’s absentminded walking through the store, remembering a road trip he and his father had taken when he was small.
They have been in the car for what feels like years to seven-year old Drake. They were heading to Oklahoma to look at some livestock and Drake had begged to go, Jackson was positive the 4am wake up would deter his son, but it didn’t.
They pull up to a corner store, Drake hops out and grabs his father’s hand as they walk through the doors. His dad grabbed a couple drinks and an armful of junk food that Bianca would not approve of Drake eating.
Turning around, he sees Drake staring at the keychain rack.
“See one you like?”
Drake picks up the leather horse keychain, showing his Papa proudly. He takes it from Drake and places it on the counter with the food. When they get back in the truck, Jackson hands it back to Drake.
“Keep it safe, okay? This will be a reminder of our special trip.”
Drake beamed up at his Papa, holding the keychain tightly.
He rubs the faded horse keychain in between his fingers and thumb. He smiles at the memory as he stops at the keychain section. He quickly scans the rack before finding a plastic horse keychain. It wasn’t exact like his and his child wasn’t here to pick it out, but he knew this is something he had to buy.
He walks over to the counter, paying for the keychain and a soda.
“Can I help you with anything else?” The clerk says.
“Yes actually, do you by chance have the address for the Walker Ranch owned by Jackson Walker?”
“Do you know Jackson?”
“I heard he might be looking for a ranch hand. I grew up on a ranch.”
“You heard right. Let me just get my address book.” The elderly clerk walks off into the backroom, shuffling papers around.
“Ah! Here it is!” He scribbles something on a slip of paper before handing it to Drake.
“Thank you!” Drake smiles, taking the bag and turning to head out the door.
* *
Not long after the stop at the corner shop, he pulls up the ranch gate, rolling the window down, it smells like home. He pulls up the long dirt road, stopping before another pickup.
He sees the young teenager see his truck and then runs in. Drake takes a deep breath before getting out. He shuts the door, taking his time to do any and everything, hoping to wither gain some nerves or just completely chicken out.
Before he knows it, his feet are walking him up the porch stairs, but before he can raise his hand to knock, he comes face to face with the man from the store.
“Howdy! What can I do for you?”
“Oh uhm…” he stammers over his words, “work.”
The older man looks at Drake like he’s crazy or on something, “you’re here for your work?”
Drake shakes his head, “No, uhm, I heard you’re looking for workers. I worked on a ranch as a kid.”
“Really?” The man’s reaction should be surprised, but to Drake’s surprise, he doesn’t seem that surprised.
“Yes, in Texas. My parents owned it.”
“It’s just me and Luke these days, so I could always use a skilled hand.” Jackson says.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Well c’mon, let me give you a tour,” Jackson waves for Drake to follow him, “Ahh…what’d you say your name was again?”
“Drake.” He pauses, “Drake Walker.”
#pixelberry#choices fanfiction#choices fandom#the royal romance#choices the stories you play#choices the royal romance#trr drake#trr mc#trr Riley#drake x mc#drake x riley#witness protection#jackson walker#long post#trr au fanfic#trr drake walker#trr Riley brooks#trr drake x mc#trr fanfic#trr fanfiction#trr witness protection au#witness protection au fic#tw: changes to canon
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Hold On
Part 4- New York
Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.
Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.
Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.
Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.
Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519
*Characters belong to Pixelberry*
If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do you are consenting that you are over the age.
Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!
*****
“Liv! You can’t go to Boston. It will fuck it up for Riley.”
Olivia’s eyebrows rose up at Leo, whilst folding her arms. She wasn’t going to give up on defending her friends.
“Watch me Leo! I’m going. Don’t you dare try and stop me! Just say to the others I had to return home- or so help me!”
Leo knew he wasn’t to argue with a Nevrakis so just nodded and bowed to the Duchess- she snuck out of the hospital without the others noticing- researching the quickest way to get to Boston. Leo walked back into the waiting room, seeing his friends reactions broke his heart. Riley meant the world to each of them- if only she knew.
“Hey, Liv has had to return to her Duchy. She said she will be back as soon as possible. You guys can go in now if you want.”
Bertrand looked at Maxwell and Hana and encouraged them to go in next.
******
The pair walked into the room, holding hands- supporting each other. They both began to cry- seeing their friend lifeless, attached to the machines.
“Why would she do this? We have to take her home Max.”
“I.. I don’t know Hana? She is a Beaumont even if not by blood. We will look after her. I can’t believe it. It’s all my fault. I brought her to Cordonia and let her leave.”
They comforted each other, still in shock. They both knew that she had miscarried, if she hadn’t have lost her baby she would now be introducing them to their niece/nephew. They both positioned themselves at each side of the bed- each taking hold of one of Riley’s hands, squeezing her gently.
Hana thought back to the last conversation she had with Riley.
“Hi Hana!”
“Hey Ri, are you okay?”
“Yeah brilliant thanks. What about you?”
“Are you sure? I know you don’t want to talk about it, but it was your due date a few weeks ago. I’m always here for you Ri, it’s not been the same without you.”
“Hana, it’s fine. I’m fine. I will always love the baby- it just wasn’t meant to be. But I can be a mom again- someday. Just not right now. I’ve got a partner who loves me, a nice apartment, a job. I’ve got my old life back. Obviously I miss you all like crazy, I’ll come and visit one day.”
“Maybe you could come for a mini break? Rather than just one day? We can do things together with the Beaumont’s and Liv?”
“Yeah! I’ve got annual leave soon. I’ll book a flight soon- I promise. It’ll be like old times. I love you Han, I need to get to work. Looking forward to coming back for my mini break.”
“Oh Ri. Why couldn’t you ask for help? Was you even coming back? I love you. Please come back to us. I need to see that beautiful smile of yours.”
Maxwell thought back to his last conversation with Riley.
“Hi Blossom, it’s so good to hear your voice! How’s life in the Big Apple?”
“Maxi! My life is brill- although I miss you all. The Big Apple is busy as usual. How’s little Apple Cordonia?”
“Glad to hear it! It’s boring without you here. We all miss you. Hana said you was thinking about coming back?”
“Yeah! You better organise a Beaumont bash for my return! I’ve got annual leave, and it’ll be great to return for a few days. Like the old days. I wouldn’t shut you out of my life Max, you could come and visit here too! You’re my brother. I love you and miss you.”
“Hell yeah!!! And ditto Ri.”
“Blossom, we all love you and want you back. You’re my sister. I can’t lose you.”
Just after Max, said those words to Riley- Hana’s hand immediately let go and flew back as if she had been shocked by an electric shock.
“Max! Say that again... repeat what you’ve just said....”
“Why?”
“I... I... she just moved! Say it again...”
*****
In Cordonia, there was still the silent atmosphere- it was like a ghost town. Liam for the last couple of days had been contacting everyone- even Leo and Riley. There was no response. It was 7am, and he had been drinking scotch for half an hour. Where were they all he wondered? He felt now that he had lost Riley forever, he shouldn’t have text her what he did- but he needed to see that she was okay. She was his friend, and still the woman he loved.
Riley, it’s Li. I hope you are well. I keep wondering what wonderful things you are doing with your life. I wished that you was still here. We all miss you. You’re my friend, I miss talking to you. I hope you’ll respond. I love you x
There was a knock at his study door- Drake entered. Liam couldn’t get those words out of his mind - or have you fucked her over like you did Riley?
“Li?”
“Drake. What can I do for you? It’s early.”
“No one is here.... You’re avoiding me now.....What have I done? I can’t sleep.”
Liam couldn’t deal with Drake being all melancholy, the world didn’t revolve all him. He handed his friend a tumbler of whiskey. Drake accepted the drink but hesitated drinking it due to the time that it was- he then saw Liam drink three shots in a flash.
“I’m not avoiding you. I’m the King, I have duties- I’m busy!”
“Busy? Busy getting drunk? My ass Li, you always made time for us all. Since Brooks and everyone else has disappeared you’ve been avoiding me!”
“This is not all about them or you! But I do have one question.... What happened between you and Riley?”
“Li, I love her. I never... I never fucked her over like Liv suggested. I told her to be with you before she left. We kissed, we slept together the one time. I’m sorry Liam..”
Liam now felt guilty for disregarding his friend, but he was still pissed off that he would sleep with her only one time then end it.
“Why? Why would you do that if you love her?”
“Because you deserve her. This country deserved her as their Queen. She came here for you, she was your girl first. I’m a nobody.”
“Are you using Kiara?” - Liam thought that Kiara would possibly be a rebound if Drake couldn’t have Riley. No matter how much he was hurting ‘giving’ Riley up- Kiara didn’t deserve that.
“No. Not using her. I have feelings for her. But they will never compare to those for Riley. I’ll leave you alone, but if you hear from anyone please let me know. I’m worried sick about them all- even Liv and that is saying something.”
Drake left the study, his words lingered in Liam’s mind, along with Olivia’s. He slept with her, then dumped her assuming she’d jump back in my arms? Liam immediately shouted Bastien into the room, he was drunk so needed to use his famous stoic expression- even though Bastien would see straight through him.
“Your majesty?”
“Bastien? I need to cancel my meetings for the next few days. Can you get the Royal Jet ready to leave as soon as possible?”
“Yes Sir. Why?”
“We are going to New York!”
#theroyalromance#bertrand beaumont#drakewalker#hanalee#maxwell beaumont#olivia nevrakis#choices trr#kingliam#riley brooks
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Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 1, Chapter 6
• Two things happen this chapter: you meet the Queen and (optionally) eat cronuts.
• That's it. That's the chapter.
• Title: The Queen of Hearts.
Alternative Title: The Regina Roast. She can and will roast you if you have even a hair out of place. You will be burned to a crisp by the time she is done.
• Fortunately you'll get the opportunity to roast if you decide to walk back with Drake after cronuts. Even reading it on the YouTube playthroughs was quite satisfying 😅
• You also get cronuts if you pay. Nomnom.
• Me Back Then: Cronuts sounds like a cross between a crow and a nut.
Me Now:..Please stop.
• Throughout Book 1, you have characters who will appreciate you no matter what (the LIs definitely fall into this category), people who will ally with you mainly because you convince them you're worth forging an alliance with, in their individual scenes (the ladies of the court and the press)...and people who keep track of your progress over the course of the book.
• The last category is especially important because it alerts you, the player, to how your MC has performed thus far. Now I have two MCs who interact with everyone in very different ways, so I can actually see this in action and compare notes. The characters that keep track of your overall performance, will not hesitate to point out how you've done in previous occasions (like the first press interview, or the impression you left on King Constantine) and their dialogue will be coded accordingly. At least two people fulfill this role in the first book.
Who are those two people, you may ask? Well, see for yourself:
(The top two screenshots are from my Esther playthrough, and the bottom two from my Persephone one).
Bertrand: In his case, it really comes as no surprise that he takes note of how we've done. He's our sponsor and mentor, after all. And we are representing his house - so if we perform badly it ends up reflecting on their house as well. So if he doesn't keep track of how we're doing, then who will? However, as the social season moves forward and his stress over the house's financial situation takes precedence, he steps back a little in terms of this. By the end of the book he expresses his support and belief for the MC regardless.
Queen Regina: Regina is known for being the torchbearer of stoicism and for destroying you with her snark (as can be seen in her responses to the 'hat' options). But some of the truly interesting insights you can get about her come from a failplay. She also is shown keeping track of the MC's progress. A scene like this one shows her being dismissive of you if you don't impress her...but in the course of the story, this will change. Overall...I find the fact that some of her scenes are coded to reflect the MC's progress in the social season a lot more interesting, because that's something we would expect from Bertrand who is directly guiding us, rather than her.
• So this chapter begins where we left off, with Hana and the MC talking about the upcoming event. A dainty little tea party, where we will meet and talk to the Queen for the first time. You have a choice between stating you love tea parties, or telling Hana tea parties aren't your thing. I highly recommend the second one coz Hana calls a tea cozy "a sweater for your teapot", proving that she can be insanely funny when PB and this fandom actually choose to remember 😂
•
At this juncture, Hana - who loves tea parties - tells us about her childhood experiences with a tea set (there will be a callback to this in her childhood scene in TRH, and it looks and sounds a hundred times more disturbing than what an adult Hana says now. Understandable, because at this point Hana cannot even begin to contemplate how messed up these aspects of her upbringing and childhood was (she is not completely blind to the damage - as can be seen from her piano scene - but she does show signs of normalizing her parents' controlling behaviour and attitude towards her).
• In the limo, Bertrand enquires about our blossoming friendship about Hana - thereby keeping tabs on those we ally with - before moving on to the important business of the day - impressing the Queen.
• Whether you ask what she likes or what she hates, the responses state similar things:
- a great sense of style and fashion
- she favours ladies from Cordonia, and is wary of foreigners (but somehow not 'wary' enough that she will do disgusting things like her husband does).
- has a high regard for protocol and can be very angry when it's disregarded (ergo correct use of titles and positioning yourself behind her are a must)
- doesn't like funny people (in fact, if you do choose the funnier hat options, she stresses that "fools use laughter to cover up their own ignorance")
- is pretty competitive, and the implication is that she likes to put up a good fight with a worthy opponent
• We get down at the venue, which the MC can either call a million dollar picnic (mentioning money and costs like that! classless! says Bertrand) or like something out of the set of Downton Abbey (television! such a travesty! says Bertrand). In any case, we wait alongside the other ladies, arriving just before Regina makes her appearance.
• Since RoE was the series that introduced Cordonia to the Choices audience, there's often going to be that one chapter where you'll find more than one reference to that series. We associate the royal family and Madeleine with the TRR series now, obviously, but back then these were side characters only briefly from RoE. So we obviously had our impressions of them set in stone, and to view them differently, we'd need a completely different lens (more on this later).
• Me Back Then (on seeing Regina): This person yapping about stoicism. Wasn't she the one who threw a hissy fit over her stepson wanting to marry an American in RoE?
Me Now: ...Leo existing is a good enough reason for anyone to have a hissy fit.
• Me Back Then AND Me Now @ Madeleine:
• It's also interesting to see the reactions to Madeleine before and after the announcement of her joining the social season has been made. Before this, Olivia demands we speak of her with respect, using her title and insisting we know her importance, and Kiara and Penelope speak of her in tones of pity. So long as she is not their rival, they look up to her as someone who has been in their place, and won the season. But once it's made clear that she is a suitor as well, Olivia shows the strongest reaction (naturally). The other two express surprise at the news, but are mostly neutral towards her as can be seen from the fact that they casually chat with her in Lythikos.
• Madeleine and Regina were clearly gossiping about us before they came here 🤭
• Regina gets introduced to all the suitors then finally turns to us, and between the Derby and the car ride to here, has learned quite a bit about us - including our first impression from the press and the moniker they've given us:
(Screenshots for 'The American' from the assyrianprincess YouTube channel)
I kinda like this bit because it shows us the flip sides to how we navigate this society, the way we might be expected to please different people whose needs and interests go in opposite directions. If the press, the representative of the people, finds these monikers exciting, interesting and relatable, then Regina makes it clear there is a flip side to those same monikers as well. As I've said earlier, the MC's identity as an anomaly, a foreigner and non-nobolity (yet) is what makes her stand out amongst her competitors, but those same things may also contribute to her struggle to be a part of this country and be accepted by these people.
• The Queen's questions range from discussions on what makes a great leader, the importance of stoicism, and governance. Fairly simple questions, and the answers that she loves the most are the ones that subscribe to both her and the royal family's ideas of 'putting on a brave face for the country'. The alternatives that displease her, are either to crack (hat) jokes, or to subscribe to a worldview that places emphasis on being relatable (charisma, and showing the people that their rulers can be human). So while Regina's not entirely wrong about her ideas of ruling and governance, there is a clear distance between the monarchy and the people that Regina and Liam would genuinely want to serve. This is a distance that Liam will later acknowledge in his portion of the cronut scene.
• The irony is also that eventually, Regina herself will crumble under the weight of all these lofty principles, and discover for herself exactly how impossible they are, once she witnesses Constantine die in front of her own eyes. I find the sequence where the MC comforts Regina in Valtoria to be an inverse of this one, because she blames herself for not living up to her own principles, and the MC has the option to validate her pain and encourage her to let it out. There (especially if you will be Queen soon) the roles are reversed, and the MC's relatability - even if she's done terribly - wins out in the end.
(And she wears the mother of all hats).
• If you don't take two steps back while the Queen is walking, Olivia and Penelope make fun of you, Hana comforts you, and Kiara doesn't say a word. Now this could be because she already had a go at us the last chapter, but I feel like it could also be because she is stepping back and taking note. She recognizes early on that her energies are better focused on networking than on trying to catch the attention of a Prince who already prefers someone else and a court that won't choose her. Remember, the next time we interact with her, we're trying to gain an alliance.
• Liam joins his stepmother and the suitors for a croquet match, where he chooses the MC regardless over any other suitor. Olivia is shocked, and Penelope is the one to speak sensibly about how the Prince has made his choice.
It's a small moment, but what follows two chapters after is Olivia secretly targeting us during her time hosting the court in her estate, and her increasing desperation. Plus Kiara and Penelope being ready to become allies rather than competitors.
There's been news that highlights the MC as a suitor Liam has a preference for, but this is probably the first time the ladies of the court must be openly confronted with it. And of course, Olivia is the hardest hit, and works the most at undermining the MC because her hurt and fears get the better of her.
• The croquet match takes place in two segments: one where Liam gives the MC a run-down of what the game will be like, and the second, where she can actually choose to take the win or allow herself to lose so the Queen will look like the victor. In the middle of these two plays, the Queen gets to slip in another question about governance.
Uh huh, uh huh, so when I make jokes I'm an ignorant fool, and when your niece does it suddenly she's Cordonia's Next Top Stand-up Comedian. Uh huh, sure.
• Either that or maybe she's had to put up with Adeleide's 18+ humour for so long that she's almost grateful that it's her uppity niece delivering the gags instead 💀 💀 At least she can be assume the humour would be PG-13 (provided Madeleine's not drunk, and even then she's not been as risque as Adelaide is when she's sober).
• The Queen purposefully opts to lose the match just to see if the MC is the kind that will play to win, and hates it if you decide to let her win. If you do win, she will alert you that things will only get more complicated for you from here, and she may not hold back next time. Back then it read as perhaps a bit antagonistic back then, but now it reads a little differently to me - more as a reminder to the MC that this social season won't be an easy one for her.
• Regina was definitely testing her in a couple places to see how she handled herself in a couple situations.
• If you win her approval, she praises you for standing out among the rest ("you've proved yourself to be unlike the other ladies in the court, which is no small feat in my eyes"). If not you're...tolerable. But she will still watch out for your progress!
• Here's one of the rare times Liam gets to tell you to your face you performed badly (besides the option at the ball if you offend Penelope), even if he still does make excuses for you. From here on out, he and every other LI will be mostly making excuses for your failures whatever they may be:
• Now that our first meeting with Queen Regina is over, we can now kick back and relax with the rest of the group!
• Drake complains about the finger foods laid out for a tea party (it's a TEA PARTY, Drake. They're not going to be serving cheeseburgers and hotdogs at a TEA PARTY), and two of the MC's three dialogue options come with relationship points ("you WOULD complain about free food" and agreeing with him). The first option seems to be the one I'd imagine a Drake stan would love because there's a slight bit of teasing there, plus Drake shakes his head, smiling, which is a nice shift from the grumpiness and snark of the previous chapters to his attempted friendliness of the Lythikos chapters. It's also a bit of a teaser to the MC's (optional) teasing of Drake later on in the cronut scene.
• ...I could have happily lived out the rest of my life not seeing 'escargot' and 'aioli' side by side in the same sentence.
• The poor MC's mind is blown from the sheer number of people who don't know what a cronut is (Me Back Then was still like WTF is a cronut).
• The highlight for TRR - besides the LIs themselves - are the group scenes. The group had three men who grew up together - or at least in some proximity to each other - and two women who were outsiders. There was a familiarity to their interactions that you wouldn't find so easily in, say, a book like TF where the relationships among the LIs grew alongside their relationship with the MC. I still recall how often people who didn't like the series would mention that the group interactions were a big plus for TRR. The cronut scene really does show you why. Even though it's very centered around whoever the MC wants to be romancing, we get a glimpse of their shared experiences at the palace, coupled with their mutual joy when trying out this new treat. We even get hints from Liam and Maxwell about the old, not-so-stressed-out Bertrand!
• The scenes meant just for the LIs are split into two portions - the first is the romantic one inside the bakery, where the MC can choose who she wants to sit next to and subsequently flirt with (no Maxwell, sorry. Though some of the subtle hints for him becoming an LI will emerge after Chapter 8!):
(Screenshots for Drake's scene from the Ashley Barrus-Gardner YouTube channel)
Each one has a different vibe to it. Liam is clearly smitten and not ashamed of showing it, draping his arm behind her chair. Hana is shy and confused, feeling those first stirrings of love for this woman, unsure of what it could all mean. Drake's is sarcastic and witty, and the MC is at her sparkling, biting best in both Drake portions of this scene.
• Our third RoE reference! Bestien appears at the end of our cronut trip, and when Liam apologizes he smiles and reminds him that his brother has done worse.
• The second LI centric portion allows you to build relationship points rather than romance ones. The MC chooses who to walk back to the palace with, and the LI tells her what has begun to shift for them, thanks to her presence:
Liam: Speaks about this experience as an eye-opener to regular life in Cordonia, is baffled by how little he knows of his own country and people, having lived such a restricted life in the palace. In one option, he openly calls his world the "statesman's bubble". As a commoner, the MC has shown him in this scene glimpses of life outside of his "princely world". He begins to let go of some of his preoccupation with protocol here, telling the MC that perhaps it's not too bad an idea for him to spend more time with her outside of the social season events. This is good buildup to his hot tub scene in Lythikos.
Hana: Is largely very grateful to the MC for keeping her company and sharing this experience with her, as she is lonely and has very few people she knows personally enough to invite her. Both she and the MC speak of their identities as outsiders who stick together because both of them know the pain of assimilating into a culture that you didn't grow up living. I kinda wish more of that aspect was explored, it would have been an exciting route to take for the story!
Drake: Drake doesn't openly speak of what he's learned from the MC or what she's given him like the others do, but the advantage in this scene is that he's begun to thaw towards her. She can choose to tease him relentlessly through the walk back, and he responds positively to it, telling her she is more fun when she's "not pretending to be a princess". As I have mentioned earlier, this helps to set the stage eventually for his friendliess to the MC in Lythikos.
• Overall, you can see why this scene is so popular and remembered so well. Others that are more detailed and extensive and fun have emerged since, but this bit was lovely to read just for those first few sparks between the friends. I knew I wasn't expecting that when I first saw this scene.
• It's now time for Lythikos! The chapters in Olivia's duchy (only 2 really) are fun and packed with a lot of interesting stuff, character development and plot details. I honestly can't wait to jump in.
• It's been at least two years since this series first came out, I think, and what's intriguing to me is how the lens of this whole story, and our view of some of the characters, has changed. I remember coming into this story straight from RoE and TCaTF, and back then I was still looking at everything from a very Leo perspective. Remember, in RoE Leo was the only Cordonian our MC had regular contact with, and therefore we saw this country from his point of view. So Constantine was stuffy but more supportive, Regina was ridiculous in her expectations for protocol, Liam was remembered as "thinking he's smarter" when Leo is away from him but extremely supportive of his decisions when he needs that support. Madeleine was the jealous angry fiancée getting in the way of true love.
Our perspectives have taken such drastic shifts since. When Leo stopped becoming the center of the story and we actually GOT to see and experience Cordonia as readers - suddenly a lot of things made sense. Regina's insistence on stoicism. Liam's pressures and burdens. The fear in the country once Leo abdicates. The stress that Liam, as new Crown Prince, would have to go through transitioning into that kind of role. Suddenly Leo's abdication wasn't a brave thing he did "for love" or "for honesty", but an irresponsible (though necessary) act that had repercussions.
In a perspective that does not center Leo, we see all that Leo misses. Constantine is no longer benign, he is capable of doing the worst things to a suitor under his protection if it means he can get her out of the way. Regina is still uppity and stoic, but can also be someone with incredible foresight, who can read the signs and embrace the change the best she can once she realizes it's coming her way. Liam is a man who was built to love and lead this country, even if he sometimes doubts his own potential. Madeleine is still a horrible human being, BUT not in the "jealous fiancée" way we witnessed in RoE Book 2. In fact, I know those who deeply dislike her, and still feel that she deserved better than what Leo was doing it her, and the rejection she faced from both brothers.
• Regina definitely comes across as cold, distant (and in an initial fail play, even rude) and not exactly interested in you. But she does keep tabs on your progress, and often highlights it before the activity itself can start.
• As I've mentioned earlier, Bertrand and Regina are specifically coded to make us aware of how we're doing. Does anyone else in the book get to do this? One more person, and I will speak of them somewhere along the line.
• Failplays are incredible because there are so many things you see SO DIFFERENTLY until much later. There's a lot you can figure out from the responses to the wrong answers alone.
• ...I need a cronut now.
• Until next time folks!
• The TRR MC and The Saga of Hats - A Short Summary in Nine Pictures:
Persephone was the one saying it, but you can bet Esther was the one thinking it!! 😁😁
• Also thank you Your Majesty for noticing how lovely my head is 😁😁😁
• That's all for this week folks! Hope you're as excited as I am to explore Lythikos!
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• Tally Counts:
Number of Times Drake has Called Esther/Persy by Their First Names: 4 (I missed one scene at the stables in Chapter 5, and this time while challenging the MC to a race back to the palace)
Number of Times Tariq Has Mentioned His Shoes: 1
Number of Times Drake Has Taken A Drink that’s Not Whiskey: 1
Number of Times Someone Has Called A Reigning Monarch 'Your Highness’: 2
Number of Times You Can Leave Hana Shook. SHOOK I TELLS YA: 2
Number of Times We See Penelope’s Angryface: 2
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#long post#the royal romance#trr quick thoughts#trr qts#king liam#hana lee#maxwell beaumont#drake walker
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