#i got sent new years wishes once and it sent me into a coma like if you dont follow up with 'happy bday' don't bother at all
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to all the people whose bdays fall on a holiday: i wish you a very merry don't kill yourself queen
#you're telling me people buy a cake for NEW YEARS? bitches yall got nothing to blow out candles for🫶#or giving gifts for nye what are you doing#i got sent new years wishes once and it sent me into a coma like if you dont follow up with 'happy bday' don't bother at all#ALSO everyone's anniversary is jan 1st or they propose like homie pick LITERALLY any other day
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Chris Evans x Reader
Warnings: angst, car accident (reader), sadness.
Also not fully proofed. Any mistakes are on me.
Summary: A car accident, left you in a coma and a confession.
**
Chris walked out of Boston Logan International Airport. With his luggage in tow, his jacket, and his signature Boston Red Sox hat. As he walked out into the cool fall afternoon, his mind and his heart dropped. He looked at his his brother, who had pulled up towards the curb and got out. The expression on Scott wasn't a happy one.
"Thanks for picking me up." Chris said as Scott grabbed his luggage and placed it into the tunk. The two got in, and Scott began to drive out into the city.
The drive was quiet, as he knew where he was going. Not to his home, but to a place where he never thought he would be.
Before he boarded the plane from LA, Chris had several missed calls from Tara, Scott, and everyone else. There, he had learned the news.
"You know where we are going, right?" Scott asked as he made a sharp exit towards Concord. The nerves in his body lit up, and he took a deep breath.
"I do." Chris said quietly. Scott sighed and turned to his brother.
"It's been a while right? 3 years?" Scot asked.
And he's right. It's been three years since Chris has seen you. It didn't end well for both of you. His fault mainly.
He left you hurt and upset due to his stupidity, thinking that it would be okay to take his ex as his date for an event in Australia. When you and him had plans, since it was around your birthday.
Just thinking about it made his heart hurt. He tried to make it up to you, but you didn't want to hear it. Chris even sent flowers to you but got word that you just threw them away.
Chris noticed, Scott had pulled up into Concord General. Finding a parking spot the two got out and headed inside. Going through a series of hallways, Scott and Chris ended up in the ICU. Your sister Tara was there.
She had gotten up and went to hug Chris. Even with the sadness in her eyes, Tara was grateful that he made it.
"Thank you for coming. I know you and my sister are not on speaking terms. But it would do her some good." Tara said, pulling away from Chris and taking a look at him.
Chris couldn't think of anything else to say but give a sympathy smile. But in reality, there was so much he wanted to say.
It was silent for a moment when Tara cleared her throat and led the two boys to your room.
Before Tara opened the door, she turned around and faced Chris.
"She's in a coma right now. But she can hear you. The doctor said it would help with her mind." Tara mentioned as she opened the door.
But the moment Tara opened the door, Chris couldn't hold in his emotions. In his mind, he thought he would be prepared for what's to come.
Nothing prepared him, for what's in front of him.
Machines beeping, breathing tubes that helped you get air into you. But what broke him the most, was your injuries.
Chris noticed a sling over your right arm, a broken left leg, that was being elevated, a large bandage around your forehead. He felt his tears run down his face, and he could no longer hide them.
Tara and Scott left Chris to give him some privacy. Once the door was closed, Chris slowly walked over to you, and the moment he came, more of your injuries were prominent.
Bruising on your face and arms, and you had a neck brace where more bruising was shown. Pulling up a chair, Chris took a seat and he reached for your hand.
Just like always, your hands were always so soft and gentle. Even if you knead dough for a living. Kissing the top of your hand , he held it close to him.
"Hi, squirt. Your sister told me that I could talk to you. I just finished my shoot in Atlanta. It's the final Avengers. I wished you could have been there to see it all. Scarlett asked about you, and I couldn't tell her how you've been because I don't know." Chris pauses for a moment.
"I heard you opened a new bakery and won a big award? Or that's what Tara told me. Let me tell you, I'm proud of you. I'm always proud of you for everything you've done." Chris paused again as his words got caught in his throat and wiped away some of his tears.
"Y/N, there's a lot I would need to say to you. I'm just a chicken shit to admit it to myself. I can't be without you. Not just in our friendship, but I just can't live without you. We been through so much together, and I miss that, and I miss you. But what I'm really trying to say here is that I love you. I always have, but I just couldn't say it and pushed the feeling away. I know this isn't the way I plan on telling you, but I needed you to know." Pausing again, Chris wiped more of his tears.
"I know you can hear me, and I'll be here. I'm not leaving you. I'm going to fight for you." Chris finally finished as he broke down. Leaning down, onto your hands, and he held it tight.
**
A single tear came down from the corner of your eyes.
And with that, your hand twitched, and a beep went off.
@jtargaryen18 @princessofdarkwinter @patzammit @icanfeelastormbrewing @what-is-your-plan-today @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @iluvsumbucky @katiew1973 @princess-evans-addict
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DAYDREAMING!AU || new reality
;request: rn i’m obsessed with your writing & the daydreaming!reader<33 but i also love angst so what would happen if she ended up getting really hurt protecting another student - hope that wasn’t too weird.. again, i love your writing !!
note: ahaha, i am glad that a lot of people enjoy my daydreaming!reader works; she is also one of my babies as well >< and originally i wasn't going to do this cause i had no idea on what to write - but i had managed to layout a rocky plan before i got some bursts of inspiration lol. ended up becoming too loud though ><” I am sorry for that~
pronouns: she/her
daydreaming!reader masterlist
“There is a chance that she will never wake up from this.”
Shoko gave the others in the room a concerned glance as she glanced up from her tablet, hating how silent it was besides the quiet beeping of the machines around the occupied bed. Laying in the bed was Y/N, a breathing tube carefully inserted into her mouth with the ventilator beside her being the only thing that’s keeping her oxygen levels normal. “The amount of damage she took was quite large. And even though she had managed to regulate quite a strong barrier of Curse Energy around her at all times, it wasn’t enough to brace her for the impact of her being slammed into the build.”
The mission shouldn’t have ended this way - the first and second year students were sent on a mission to deal with a few Finger Bearers that had appeared in the city due to the lack of sorcerers on duty at the time. They were under the care of a few First Grade sorcerers, all hand-picked by Yaga-sensei to ensure the safety of the kids.
However, things rarely go to plan in the jujutsu world.
Yaga-sensei sighs softly as he leans back into his seat, his eyes glancing over at his student that was clearly battling to stay alive. Guilt started to eat him from the inside out, since this was technically his fault. Sure, everyone knows that there is no way that you can go on a mission without enduring some casualties. But the fact is that this was not what he had expected for the outcome to be.. “I am going to kill them myself.”
“G-Gojo-san!” Ijichi hissed out as he glances over at the white haired shaman in the room with wide eyes, the man having been leaning against the wall opposite from the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tipped forward with an almost too casual expression on his face, yet anyone can tell the barely suppressed anger that lurked underneath. An anger that was only a few moments away from exploding. “You can’t - don’t say things like that!”
“And you expect me to sit back as they failed to save the children?” Gojo asks in a loud voice, effectively squashing whatever confidence Ijichi had built up inside of him. The hand that was resting arm tightened, the veins at the back of his pale hands started to protrude out as Gojo’s anger started to show itself. “I need a good explanation on how their incompetency put our student in this state. 5 First Grades against 3 Special Grade Curses? With 7 talented students by their side and they still can’t handle it? Give me a fucking break.”
“Not everyone can be like you, Satoru.” Yaga-sensei finally mumbles out as he rests his forehead into his hand, fingers pinching at the space between his eyes tiredly. “If anything, it was my fault. I had underestimated the brains of the Finger Bearers, and because of that, all my calculations were wrong. I put retrieving the fingers over numbers. So if you want to find someone to be angry to, the blame is on me.”
The room went quiet after Yaga’s explanation, both Ijichi and Shoko sharing a caution look before casting a glance over at the blindfolded man. After a few tensed moments Gojo pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the hospital room without another word, closing the door behind him quietly; a stark contrast to his usual habit of either slamming the shoji doors too hard, or leaving it open completely.
That out of character move definitely had Shoko sighing in concern. “That idiot...I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.” She mumbles softly before she turned back to face the young girl laying on the bed, quietly reaching over to brush her fingers through the soft strands that had fallen over Y/N sleeping face. “You better wake up soon, sweetheart...I worry that this might finally push him over the edge.”
Occupying each seat outside of the small waiting area in the infirmary were the other students; wounds bandaged, yet their anxiety was palpable in the air. They had heard what had happened, yet were sheild by the other sorcerers who had called for back-up. Last they heard of Y/N was a scream before what sounded like a building collasping. “Do you think Y/N-senpai is alright?”
Yuji was the first one who dared to break the silence, glancing up from his clenched hands before him to glance at the others. “I mean...it must have been bad, since she was charted off as soon as back up arrived.” Yuji mutters softly as he tightened his fingers together, trying to stop them from shaking. He felt awful - if only he had spared a few seconds to glance over at his senpai, maybe she wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in now. “It’s not every day you’re rushed straight to Ieiri-sensei’s office...”
“...If there is one idiot who can pull through, it’ll be her,” Maki mumbles out quietly after awhile, looking away from her kouhai to stare down at the wooden floors of the building they were in. “Even if it’s bad, she always pulls through it...there is no reason why she can’t do it this time.” She mutters softly just as a pair of footsteps came towards them, causing everyone to look up at the approaching figure.
Gojo paused when he spotted the others, the question they wanted to ask was clear as day. And for once, Gojo wished that he was able to reassure them like he always does. For him to be able to put up the act that everything was alright, that everyone will be okay.
But he knew that it’ll do no justice if he did. “Is she...is she alright?”
The question that fell from Yuta’s mouth was left hanging in the air for a few moments, the sliver of hope they had moments ago slowly dimming with each passing moment. Quietly Gojo slipped his hands into his pockets, his blindfolded eyes downcast; too scared to see their reactions. For once, he wished that he was not the one to break the news to the students. “Y/N-chan...might not recovery from this.”
His words sent shock waves through the students, yet he balled his fists up in his pockets to continue with what he had to say. “She hit her head too hard...and if she was not subconsciously protecting herself with Cursed Energy all the time, the impact would have caused her skull to crack in two on impact. But it still took a lot out of her person, and Shoko said that-”
The sound of a metal chair being thrown backwards echoed across the room, causing Gojo to look up just in time to see Yuta standing up with wide eyes as he hastily tried to calm his friend. “Maki, you need to calm down.” He tried to reason with the girl, who had her backed turn to the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. “This isn’t your fault-” Yuta tried to reason, only to pause when Maki just silently started to walk away, leaving with no more but a loud slam of the main door that echoed down the hallway once more.
For a few moments no one said anything else, yet the first one to move was Megumi; who turned to face his sensei. “Can we visit her?” He mumbled out quietly, to which Gojo just glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Usually people talk to someone who is in a coma. Might jolt them awake or give them encouragement to fight harder...I am sure Y/N-senpai will get lonely if no one visited her..”
“Why not?” Gojo said after a few moments of thought, giving his students what he hope was a reassuring smile as he turns a little; nodding down the hallway. “Shoko managed to stabalise her condition. Just make sure to sanatise your hands at the door.”
Quietly the group of students followed behind their silent sensei, keeping close to one another as if they were trying to give each other comfort. The walk to the room seemed too far, the door seeming to grow further and further away from them with each step. It was if it was trying to stop them from seeing the truth; yet they didn’t stop. Yet soon they found themselves standing before the smooth door; the single grey name plaque with her name written in black resting in the silver plaque holder. “Right, here we are.”
After everyone was handed a blob of hand sanitiser and had wiped it onto their skin, the small group entered after a quiet knock to the door. “Y/N-chan, I’ve returned with the others...minus one, that is.” Gojo hummed out in delight as he made his way towards the bed, a silent gesture for the others to do the same. “You know Maki-chan though. Once she finishes beating herself up, she’ll come running back. She always does~”
Quietly the others made their way into the room, eyes scanning over the beeping machines and many wires connected to the sleeping girl. “Y/N...senpai..” Nobara mumbles out in shock, her eyes resting the ventilator; not believing that a girl that was bounding about the college earlier today now needed help to do something as simple as breathing. “No way...there is...”
A warm hand rest on the top of her head, Megumi quietly giving her a form of comfort whilst his wide eyes stared at the bed before him in shock. No one dared take a step forward, like they were standing on the other side of a fragile glass bridge that was moments away from breaking. “Y/N..”
Gojo felt the hole started to eat inside of him as he watches how his students were staring at their fellow classmate in shock. Quietly he settled down in the only seat at the corner of the room, watching from the shadows at how the others will react to seeing her in such a state. The first person to snap out of it was Yuta, who quietly places a hand on Toge’s shoulders before giving it a light squeeze. “Shall we go and say hello?”
Quietly Yuta made his way towards the bed, only to hesitate one step away from grabbing onto her hand. He stared at the frail hand, a simple IV needle carefully taped on the back of her palm for a few moments; a clear look of uncertainty on his face. Yet he took a deep breath, and with a trembling hand, carefully took Y/N’s cold hand in his. “I...Hi, Y/N...” Yuta mumbles quietly into the hospital room, voice barely heard over the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “Sorry...we took awhile to visit...and sorry that Maki isn’t here...I am sure she’ll drop by when she is ready though.”
The only response he got was the sound of the steady beep of the heart monitor, to which he just tighten his grip ever so slightly on Y/N’s unmoving hand. He could hear the soft giggle that Y/N would let out at his words, and if he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hears her voice bouncing around inside his head.
“It’s alright, Yuta-san! I am sure you were busy before that. And I know Maki-chan will come after you leave - but you didn’t hear that secret from me~”
The silence of the hospital room made Yuta sick to the stomach, the idea that he might never hear Y/N’s voice again started to really sink in. Her usually warm and familiar touch felt cold and lifeless, causing Yuta to carefully tuck her hand underneath her hospital blanket; as if he was trying to warm it up once more. “I...I am going to go grab her favourite stuffed animal from her room. I am sure she’d love to have something of comfort whilst she’s here...if you’ll excuse me.”
Without another word Yuta just walked out of the room quietly, Yuji being the only one turning to watch his senpai leave with a look of concern. Out of everyone Yuji was definitely the one who seemed to be able to hold himself together the most, so it was no surprise when he was the one that went next. “Yo, Y/N-senpai,” Yuji greeted quietly as he walked towards the hospital bed, easily dodging all the wires and such. After all, this wasn’t his first time visiting someone he cares for in the hospital. “Can you hear me? I hope you can - or not Fushiguro might lecture me for being loud.”
The other sorcerer couldn’t even find his voice whilst Yuji continues on; his voice soft yet soothing as he looks down at his senpai with nothing more but a soft smile. “I know you’re trying your hardest go come back to us, and you’d probably tell us that we’re not the ones to blame. That you’re a big girl now, and things like this happen all the time.” Yuji continues, the only indication to his change of mood was the slight quiver that was hard to hide. Yet Yuji continued on anyway. “I hope you know we miss you...and we’re worried sick that you’re in the state you are now. But I know that you need some time to rest up, and soon you’ll be back on your feet again, right? ‘Cause..b-because that’s how you’ve always been.”
Silence enveloped the room once more, with Yuji just not sure on what else to say to her as he stared at her pale face. The other three in the room sort of just huddled together, all of them unsure of what to say to her. They weren’t the best with emotional words - beside Toge, who usually doesn’t use words at all - so asking them to keep their tone in check whilst referring to their unconscious classmate is a little too much for them.
So after awhile Yuji decided to lead them out of the hospital room, giving Gojo a parting smile before he closes the door behind him. Leaving him alone as he stared at the slumbering figure of his student as he rests his elbows on his parted knees. Quietly he rests his head in his hands, eyes closed as he tried to push back the light migraine that was coming on. He hates that it is his duty to break the news to the others - her parents, her elders. Heck, he has to give a call to Nanami and Utahime to tell them the bad news.
If it was anything else, he wound be more than excited to blow their phones up. But this? He wishes that the duty was handed to someone else - because he himself doesn’t even believe that this was happening in the first place.
He wishes that this was all just a terrible nightmare.
Maki quietly pushed the window open as she climbed in from the roof, the doors of halls of the infirmary long going silent; cicadas chirping away in the night sky. Maki quietly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, eyes racking over Y/N’s sleeping form, to the amount of machines that were working by her side to make sure that she’s alive. “Hey, idiot...I’ve arrived.”
Quietly she made her way towards Y/N’s bedside, her eyes clouding over with an unreadable emotion. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how to react right now. On one hand, she was pissed - she is pissed off because she could have done something to help Y/N. Maybe if she was just faster, just a bit more aware, maybe if she was training to try harder. Maybe if she can just try harder-
A loud slap sounded across the room, Maki having pulled her hand out of her pocket to slap across her cheek hard to snap out of the spiraling thoughts. The burning sting on her cheek reminded her to return to reality before she started to trash the room out of anger, something that she and Y/N had been working on for some time now. Y/N would always say, “You should never turn to anger and violence to deal with your issues!”
Maki wonders what her reaction would be if she had saw Maki slapping herself so hard that there was a light handprint on the side of her cheek. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”
With a tired sigh Maki settled down in the seat that Gojo had occupied earlier in the day, keeping her eyes on the steady heart monitor; her eyes following the spike that indicates the faint heartbeat of Y/N. “Who the hell knew that it took an entire building to really get you hurt.” Maki sigh as she tore her eyes away from the screen, looking down at her boots quietly; examining all the scuffs and scratches on marring the smooth leather. “Call me stupid, but I really thought that it’d take more than that. Remember when you had jumped out the window of the 10th floor and left with no more but a bruise? You were crying about it ‘cause you couldn’t wear dresses for about 2 weeks.”
Maki let out a tired laugh at the memory of finding Yuta trying to reassure a crying Y/N when she found the bruise on her knee; Yuta just patting her head with the most amused look on his face whilst she cried her eyes out at the idea that she can’t wear her cute dresses until it cleared up. “Imagine what will happen when you wake up from this? God, that is going to be a pain.”
A soft sigh left Maki’s lips as she glances over at the stuffed sheep that Yuta had brought from her room; along with a few more random stuffed animals that surrounded her head like a halo. This caused her to smile sadly as she rests her head on her shoulder, watching her for a few minutes without saying anything. Maki had always been bad with words and emotions; with all the things she had gone through when she was younger. Wording how she feels and emotions are not Maki’s favourite thing to deal with, since she wants to keep this badass, strong woman front she has on all the time to prove something to her elders.
“You better wake up from this, or not I am going to kick your ass.” Maki mutters after a few moments, getting up with a tired sigh before she casts her another glance at Y/N. Without missing a beat, she reaches over to brush strands of hair away from her face, warm hand resting on her head for a few moments before she places a few parting pats on her head; something she had always done when she needs to leave for a mission or a meeting outside of school.
“‘Night, brat. Wake up soon, okay?” Maki mutters, and with a final sigh she made her way towards the window she climbed in once more, quietly shutting it behind her after she hauled herself over the railing. It was only in the dead of the night that Maki quietly lets her tears fall, biting her lip hard to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to leave her lips.
Because at the end of the day she is stubborn, and refuses to believe that this might be her new reality.
A week had passed since the day that the others found out that Y/N had fallen into a coma of a sorts, and everyone would visit at least once just to see if there is any sight of change. That there might be a sign that she was going to wake up soon. And there were slight changes; a few days after she had been admitted she was allowed to get off the ventilator and rely on oxygen instead. But she was still in bad shape.
Nanami tries to make time to drop by to visit as well, coming over to quietly read pages of the book that he was reading. Whenever Y/N was sick, she would call Nanami over the phone and ask if the man can read to her; something about how she finds comfort in his voice that puts her at ease. And since Ieiri had encouraged them to talk to her more for stimulation, Nanami takes the time to read to her after a long day of work. It brought him some comfort as well, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the other machines around her.
Gojo would sometimes drop by as well, only to berate Nanami for his ‘boring’ book choices; and an unconscious Y/N has to endure two adults arguing about book choices and how Gojo’s titles are definitely not appropriate to even bring onto school grounds.
Besides the occasional argument, sometimes Gojo will prop his phone up against a vase of flowers that Yuji brings so that Utahime can FaceTime him; the students from the Kyoto side being able to see and talk to the slumbering Y/N. For the most part, everyone was shocked that she was in the state she was in; having never expected such a bright and talkative person can fall into such a state.
The most distraught one was definitely Todo, who had almost jumped out of his seat and make a full on dash towards Tokyo if it wasn’t for Noritoshi and Mai joining together to restrain the man, along with Principal Gakuganji threating to hold him back from their planned trip to Tokyo the following week that had him calming down.
But barely - the man is still more than ready to just up and run across the country just so he can be closer to his ‘beloved Y/N-chan’.
Every day, without fail, Toge will come into her hospital room with a new accessory to pull her hair back into; carefully brushing her hair out and applying dry shampoo so it wasn’t greasy to the touch. Once he was satisifed he’d carefully style her hair back so it didn’t get in the way of her checkups, taking his time with everything so he gets to spend more time with her. He doesn’t say much, he usually finds that doesn’t whenever he is around her; so he takes his time when he does her hair in hopes that she can feel that he is there for her.
Yuta and Megumi will find time after classes to go and visit her together, telling her about everything that had happened whilst she is asleep. Sometimes Nobara will visit as well, must for the most time she’d come alone in the evening after dinner to just rant to her about everything that she found annoying that happened over the day. Nobara usually stay until Ieiri comes to kick her out, hoping that Maki might come in as well to visit Y/N.
But Maki never does - yet everyone knows that Maki finds the time in her day to go and visit her like everyone else. However, no one dared to ask her how or when she does it. They’ve accepted that it was probably a sensitive subject to her, and that it’s off limits to ask her unless you want her to ignore you for the rest of the day. Gojo had learnt it the hard way when he had teased her, only to be thrown out the window of their classroom by an annoyed Maki.
Even his Infinity is no match for that woman’s wrath.
Days soon led into weeks, with slow but not so encouraging signs of improvement from the young girl. The elders of her clan and her parents had visited the college as soon as they can, and had kept tabs with every single thing that is going on with her. There was no denying the fear of her suddenly relapsing once more, and soon it will become too much for her parents to bear. The idea of keeping Y/N around, knowing that she is in so much pain, just for their selfish want of keeping her alive was a reality they want to avoid.
The once vibrant and lively campus soon turned gloomy; the hallways of the school quiet without the familiar sound of bunny-themed slippers running across its worn-out flooring. The chime of a familiar giggle was missing in the air, along with a dreamy voice that just never seems to stop; no matter what time of the day it is. There were days where the others forget that Y/N was not there to make dinner for the night, or she wasn’t there when they want to ask her opinion about something. Her room, which once served as a sanctuary for the students who can’t sleep at night, now became too painful to even walk past on certain days.
Yet everyone tried their hardest to go on with their days, knowing that it was what Y/N wanted them to do. If they were to allow their grief to consume them whole, they knew the delicate routine they had rebuilt would crumble before them. And if there is one thing they can do to keep Y/N’s memory alive, is to live their lives to the fullest. To try and cherish each and every day, no matter how painful reality is without her by their side.
They have to try, for her sake.
It wasn’t until a month passed when Yuta had came running into the lunch hall, looking like he had seen a ghost as he tried to catch his breath. “Okkotsu-senpai?” Megumi asks in concern as he looks over at the older man, putting his tray down to try and give his panting senpai a hand. “Are you-” He asked, only to have Yuta put a hand up to stop him as he took a few deep gulps of air.
“A-Awake...Y/N...Y/N is awake.”
Within a few seconds the students were sprinting across campus, none of them believing what Yuta had said until they have see it for themselves. What is usually a 10 minute walk from the lunch hall took about four minutes with them sprinting, possibly annoying half of the cleaners of the school that they were breaking the no running rule. Yet they didn’t stop even at their annoyed outcries, the simple wooden door of the infirmary almost coming off its hinges at how hard Maki had thrown it open.
Maki was the one who pushed the hospital room door open, causing the people in the room to jump in shock. Including Y/N, who had let out a soft squeak of shock; her voice hoarse from not using it for so long. The others blinked in shock at the sight of Y/N’s bright eyes meeting theirs at the doorway, ones that blinked before she gave them the biggest smile she can muster.
“H-Hi.” Y/N mumbles softly, to which Nanami just gave her a rare smile as he gently rubs her back, Gojo smirking softly as he recorded the reactions of the others by the door. He had gotten over the shock a few moments ago. “Don’t strain yourself, Y/N-chan. Remember what Ieiri-sensei said about straining your voice.” The blonde man hummed before he turned his blue eyes over at the shocked students as well. “And that goes to you too. If you all stress her out, I am not against tossing you all out.”
Y/N made a noise and turned to try and reassure the older man, not noticing how the others were staring at her in shock. The first person to move was Maki, whose eyes look suspicious wet as she stormed into the room. “I am going to kill you.” She growled out loudly, to which Y/N jumped before she held her arms out for protection; feeling a shiver of fear go up her spine. Yet before she can make a move to stop her, Maki suddenly wrapped her up in a hug, the arms that Y/N held out to try and pacify her angry classmate freezing from the unnatural reaction from Maki.
Y/N blinks for a few moments before she smiles softly and wraps Maki up in her arms as well, gently patting her head as Maki silently wets her shoulder with her tears. “I know.” Y/N mumbles out softly before her eyes met the others, giving them a soft smile as she gently gestures to the others to enter her room. Soon there was just a huge ball of crying teenagers hugging one another on Y/N’s hospital bed; Gojo and Nanami having moved aside to give them more space for their reunion as they watched on from the other side of the room. “Should we stop them?”
“Nah, we might get murdered if we try.” Gojo said with a hum as he grins over the sound of intelligible crying, looking over at Nanami who had a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight. “Besides, this is great content. I never had a video of Maki crying before.” Gojo admitted, to which Nanami’s smile dropped as he looked over at him in annoyance.
“Why am I not surprised at all?”
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#daydreaming!reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jjk imagines#jjk imagine#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru#jjk gojo x reader#jjk itadori yuji#jjk itadori x reader#jjk fushiguro megumi#jjk fushiguro x reader#jjk kugisaki nobara#jjk nobara x reader#jjk maki zenin#jjk maki x reader#jjk inumaki to/ge#jjk inumaki x reader#jjk okkotsu yuta#jjk okkotsu yuuta#jjk okkotsi x reader#gojo sensei#jjk nanami#jjk nanami x reader
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Happy Golden Days // Dr. Ray Stantz x Reader
this is dedicated directly to @spengsmoon for spreading my Ghostbusters hyper fixation beyond Egon. you did this.
summary: tiny domestic Christmas fluff, best if read while listening to Judy Garland's Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
tw: Christmas, eggnog alc ment, absolute tooth rotting crappily written fluff
Twas the night before Christmas, and all the through the firehouse, not a ghostbuster was stirring, not even Egon, who was currently in a sugar coma from all the homemade Christmas candy Winston’s mother had sent over. Zeddemore had left before the snow got too bad, being the only one with family in the city, bidding Holiday wishes to all and promising to stop back by the next day. Peter’s eggnog consumption had finally gotten the better of him so Ray and Egon had long since slumped him over his cot upstairs. While both of the other parapsychologists tumbled into yuletide slumber, Ray was fighting a little harder, sprawled out n the couch, resisting the final fall in favor of savoring the last moments of Christmas Eve with you.
The living room was dark save for the crackling fire that Ray had started hours ago- now dying down to blazing red embers that staved off the New York winter bitter chill-, the twinkling lights on the sparkling Christmas tree you had set up a week prior, and the Christmas Movie marathon that had been playing throughout the day.
Meet Me In St. Louis played softly on the television set in the corner, the room was warm, the lights soft like a dream casting rainbow halos and odd shadows around the living room, outside the window the street lamp illuminated the swiftly falling snow, and Ray’s head was resting heavily on your lap, his long legs hanging off the other side of the couch. You suppressed a chuckle watching his dark eyes slowly fall shut and then flutter back open again, only to repeat the process again moments later. One of your hands was laced with his, resting on his steadily rising and falling, cheesy sweater clad chest, you lifted the other to gently trace through his ever fluffy hair.
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” A young Judy Garland sang, the classic Christmas song fitting your quaint moment so perfectly, you couldn’t help but hum a long as you lifted your interlaced hands to you lips, pressing a sweet kiss to his knuckles. Lazily, his lips quirked up to a bemused grin, his eyes bleary as he stared up at you like you personally put the sun, moon, and all the stars in the sky.
Your hums turned to quietly sang words in time with the movie, “Let your heart be light, next year all our troubles will be out of sight.”
In that moment it didn’t matter if you were tone deaf or on par with Judy Garland herself, Ray was making a mental not to contact the Grammy Nomination committee, or at the very least commit this one moment to memory.
You continued, tracing gentle fingers through his tresses and singing along with the classic movie, his hand squeezed yours as his eyes slipped shut again, his own deep voice not much above a hum, “Once again as in olden days, happy golden day of yore…”
Judy Garland’s voice quietened before regaining its volume, you leaned down so you could nuzzle your nose against his forehead, your own voice just loud enough to carry the tune, “Someday soon we all will be together, if the fates allow.”
“I think we trapped the fates last week at FAO Schwarz.” Ray’s sleep grizzled voice mused, his free hand reaching back to fiddle with the hem of your sweater as you leaned back up, “So it doesn’t really doesn’t matter what they think.”
You breathed a laugh, finding the bit of hair just long enough to twist around your fingertips, Ray leaned into your touch as you hummed the next lyric. Slowly, a losing battle, Ray peeled his eyes open again to look up at you through his lashes. For a moment, you thought he would slip back into that light doze, but instead he cleared some of the exhaustion from his voice. His voice took on that adoring, enamored, wondrous tone that was so intrinsically Ray, his hand squeezed yours as his other reached up to gently finger at your hair, “I want to spend every Christmas just like this.”
You cheeks flushed red as his free hand fell back to his chest, heart fluttering at the first mention of a long term future, but before anything could be said a boisterous yawn careened him back towards Christmas sleep, eyes scrunching shut as you lilted the last line, “So have yourself a merry little Christmas, now.”
This time, it seemed more permanent as Ray didn’t stir as the movie cut to a commercial break- in fact, the ghostbusters theme of their own commercial didn’t even rouse him before you clicked the tv off.
You watched him breath for a minute, smiling as his nose twitched in his sleep. You tugged the throw blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it over the two of you. Finally, you held Ray a little tighter The only sound in the firehouse was the ringing of the clock on the wall, signaling the Christmas Eve had passed into Christmas Day.
This was your merry little Christmas, a Christmas card moment that would be cherished forever, remembered every time you saw lights on a tree or smelled evergreen. You shook your head at your own mushy thoughts, smoothing his hair down before pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead, “Merry Christmas, Ray.”
#ray stantz x reader#dr. ray stantz x reader#can't believe im writing ghostbusters fanfic in the year of our lord 2021#ghostbusters x reader
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Elysium // Luke Patterson
Summary: The boys of Julie and the Phantoms need a hail Mary to dethrone Downslide from opening for Panic! At the Disco. While Willie is done to help his blue eyed crush and his friends there’s one issue: Willie can’t drive the bus. Moving a bench is one thing but driving an entire tour bus? There’s only one person who can and Willie’s not sure where she is after year of no communication
Warnings: Swearing, angst, talk of death (it’s a ghost show, why is this a warning??), mention of assault, violence, and fluff.
Words: 11.5k
A/N: This is why I haven’t posted much in the last week. I’ve been writing this massive fic that I refused to turn into a series. My god, 11k words. I don’t think I’ll be doing this again. Enjoy and comment if you figured out who Rudy is!
Masterlist
There wasn’t much in the afterlife that you enjoyed after time spent in the limbo between the living and dead. Listening to songs before they were released lost its appeal just as much as dancing on stage with the ballet companies around the world, of being an unseen extra in shows and films being filmed.
Then you found a purpose a couple, well it could be more than a couple, years ago when you found a lost soul. William Young, Willie to his friends, had been sitting on the curb staring at the pavement entirely still as he had for two days.
The time from the last breath you took to walking the streets of Los Angeles was a blur in all honesty. The years bled together as you stayed stationary in a world that kept on spinning and changing, growing up. You had watched your friends hit new milestones you could only daydream about. Friends that graduated college and built new lives on the ashes of memories that included you.
Today’s walk was an attempt to escape your friends’ greying versions standing in front of a once vibrant sculpture. It happened every single year, but this one hurt the most. Listening to your friends recall stories of all the adventures you did together.
From being drunken idiots jumping off cliffs into that one lake the summer of freshman year. Or making a bonfire on the school’s roof with all the entryways blocked, rather stupid with the exits being blocked as well. Sneaking into concerts and stealing that one car that came close to sending you to boarding school.
The rebellion that still lived in you had mellowed in the five individuals with the adult responsibilities of family and work. Martha had removed all piercings but her lobes while Chase quit dying his hair colour. Jordan now had three children and a bought house.
Seeing the group no longer young had made your feet swiftly move from the memorial for a walk. The only thing that stopped you in your tracks was tripping over something in front of you.
“Ouch.” You hissed rolling onto your back with a moan of pain that faded with the sniffles.
Curled into his knees, sitting on the curb was a teenage boy about your age. Long hair curtaining his profile you found your eyes grasping the cracked helmet that spoke for itself abandoned by his side.
“Your kinda a hazard there.” You simply spoke sitting down next to the distraught teenager, “Heads up, I suck at comforting people.”
At his silence, you spoke once more, “I’m digging the tie-dye. Did you do it yourself?”
“This is some kind of stupid coma dream right?” The boy’s voice was husky from crying and disuse, “I’m probably in some kind of hospital with a tube down my throat.”
“I’d say yes, but it would be a blatant lie.” You spoke twirling a loose thread on your jeans while the stranger gazed at a spot on the street.
His dark brown eyes bloodshot as he remembered the car honking mere seconds before he heard the sound of a thud. He recalled struggling to breathe with his broken ribs and his screams being illustrated with bloodstains.
He remembered thinking how he had just bought that board a week ago with his allowance.
“Am I really dead?”
“Yes. We’re are a couple ghosts in a lively city.” You informed him with one handheld in the space between your ethereal forms. The teen hesitantly placed his hand in yours with a firm shake.
“William but call me Willie.” He softly told you, catching sight of the patch on your jean jacket—one of many from both when your grandma owned it and then when you did.
“I’m Y/N. Let’s blow this disappointment. I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know.” Brushing off the invisible dust on your jeans, you held your hand out to him, “We’re about to make the afterlife our bitch.”
A stark contrast to his former hesitance he immediately grasped your hand to tug himself off the curb. The forlorn skater didn’t question the board in your hand or how he could possibly even touch his own board. He didn’t wonder how it wasn’t in pieces like it had been when he first got hit.
That rebellion that ended your life flared again in the presence of your best friend with crashing Justin Bieber’s house. Of rearranging items in classrooms to freak teachers out and sitting in the cars turning the radio on and off. Haunting the living until the friendship fractured under the influence of a powerful ghost.
Caleb Covington had bewitched the skater with promises and extravagant gifts until Willie had taken the offer.
“He’s not like you said he was! I think you should give him a chance!” Willie cried following you around the place you had taken to be home.
“Willie he’s a bad guy! He butters you up until you give him what you want! That’s when you see his true colours. All he wants is your soul to power his magic and spread his reach!”
“I got to talk to my sister!”
“Your sister is five years old! It’s not Covington that gave you the opportunity. She won’t remember the experience as anything other than an invisible friend!”
“There are so many people at the Club that we can talk to. Aren’t you tired of the same routine and people we see?”
Willie’s pleading brought your full attention to the skater avoiding your gaze, “William Young…you took his offer.”
Willie tore his gaze from the art on the wall to find yours blatantly glaring at him with a bucket of random colour in your hand.
“The Club is going to France to tour around the country for a while. I’m dead, so I might as well make the best of it. Besides who gets to skate through the Louvre!” Willie beamed, watching as a small smile, found its way on your face at his excitement, “I’m sure Caleb would let you come to the Club tonight!”
“Willie, you are my best friend, but I’ve already seen the Club. It’s not my style, and I want nothing to do with it.”
That interaction was one of the very few speckled through the years when Caleb discovered who you were. No matter his offers, you never took the deal and when he saw how close you and Willie where he kept the skater busy. The Club didn’t appear in Los Angeles for a long time until Willie’s distance seemed too great to bridge.
“So, you need a way for the slot to be empty?” Willie asked the trio of ghosts all spread around the area.
Unfortunately for Luke, the only person they could get help from was from the very guy that placed them in a predicament. While Alex was the one spearheading the conversation with the long-haired skater Luke was glowering in his direction.
“The Orpheum was the thing we never got to do. We spent hours practising and performing with one goal-“
“Play the Orpheum and get distance from our parents. Well, at the time that streetdog and becoming legendary was my main focus.” Reggie recounted the feeling of suffocating in a house filled with fighting. A home he wished still stood, now dead all he wanted was to see his parents.
“We almost did it too.” Luke pouted relaxing his glare at the skater who openly sent apologetic gazes at Alex’s bandmates.
“So, we need to get rid of the opening band.” Willie nodded to himself, thinking about ways before he caught sight of the abject horror on the band. The skater’s eyebrows raised, “I know I deeply fractured the trust, but I’m not suggesting murder.”
“Okay. Good.” Reggie whistled relaxing his tense posture while Luke grumbled under his breath an insult that in turn got Alex’s arm into the guitarist’s ribs.
“Your best bet would be getting the bus out of LA. The band will probably celebrate the upcoming gig.”
“Could you make the bus disappear?” Alex hesitantly questioned shifting in his now vintage sneakers. The blonde-haired drummer flushed slightly under the endearing smile from the skater. The feelings create a confliction within Alex under Willie’s issue, leading them straight into a madman’s hands.
“I can move a bench, turn sirens on, but a bus is outside my paygrade.” Willie openly admitted showing his hands deep in his pockets, “The only person other than Caleb that has enough power-“
“-is he just as evil?” Luke demanded crossing his arms to glare at the male that had unfortunately caught the interest of Alex.
However, Luke couldn’t blame Alex for falling for this guy because well, Luke saw the teenage ghost’s appeal. Willie was attractive, but he wasn’t the type of person Luke would fall for. Plus he had initially made Alex incredibly happy, and Luke would never blame Alex for that.
“She is as different from Caleb as one can be. She uh…she taught me everything about being a ghost. Actually, found me where I died.” Willie cleared his throat as the guilt and sadness reared its head from deep within him. The guilt of leaving his little sister to grow up without him and the sorrow of not growing up with the girl.
It wasn’t often Willie allowed himself to remember the little girl, barely five when he died, who was always dancing. His little sister adored the colour purple and anything shiny and more than once Willie had let her dress him up. Willie’s greatest regret is that he’d never have that interaction with her. God, she’d be around his age now and in high school.
“Okay, so where is she?” Reggie clapped his hands, bringing the skater out of his thoughts and back into the present.
Luke saw the hesitation in Willie, “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”
“Kinda?” Willie trailed off bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I haven’t seen her in years now. Last time I saw her we fought about the whole joining Caleb thing? I’m not even sure if she’s still in LA.”
“Of fucking course,” Luke grunted shoving both hands in his hair taking a few steps away from the other ghosts.
First, he dies, then he gets caught up in some bullshit revenge plot, then makes a deal with the devil without realizing it, and now their one chance is going up in flames. Luke Patterson was livid with the universe and the shitty hand he had been dealt, but at least he had his friends with him.
“It can’t hurt to look for her?” Reggie innocently offered with a shake of his shoulders, “It’s not like we have any other option.”
“Did we ever even have options?” Luke hissed, causing Willie and Alex each to flinch with the different guilt they carried.
Alex was guilty of going to Willie for help when getting back at Bobby was the biggest thing. Willie was guilty of ignoring his instincts on keeping Alex as far from Caleb as he could be he just wanted to impress the drummer. It’s not like Willie had many options for dating, and well, Alex was the first to get his entire focus.
“Dude. Stop. No one saw it coming.” Reggie bumped his hip against the annoyed guitarist, “Let’s find this ghost and get our shot at playing.”
The quartet of dead guys didn’t have high hopes of finding the girl in question, but it seemed the universe took pity on Luke Patterson. Just two hours into their search on the edges of the city limits an individual was walking.
The person’s stature leaned against a smashed concrete wall of the skeleton of where a building once was. The only thing the group could make out was a faded jean jacket with splotches of colour. Her ankles crossed as her back leaned against the cement, oozed laid back confidence. Coming closer, Luke noticed the sunglasses perched on top of her head and the lips painted dark.
“What do you need Willie? I heard you were looking for me.” The husky voice drew Luke in the most. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms enamoured with the girl.
“How’d-“Willie’s question was cut off as you simply tapped your right index finger against your temple.
“How do you think you managed to get here?” You inquired pushing off the cement to stride over to the group. To Willie’s surprise, he was tugged into your embrace before swiftly pushed away, “Come on. We should head in before someone catches us.”
In the dark as much as the other three ghosts, Willie dutifully followed you past the pieces of cement littered around the area. Gasps of surprise sounded as the once empty space became filled with buildings. It was not as extravagant as the hotel the Club worked out of, but it was hidden from the living and dead eyes.
“Where did this come from?” Reggie gasped astounded by the people once hidden from his view, moving around the area.
“This is Elysium. Don’t judge the name I lost the right in a poker game with Susie and Rudy. I’m Y/N.” You informed the group leading them to the gate where two people stood stoically guarding it, “Rudy was hellbent on calling it Valhalla.”
“This is Luke, Reggie and Alex.” Willie gestured to the awed trio of musicians only lingering on the blonde. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the attraction between the skater and the blonde; finding a date in the afterlife was a lot harder than the living.
Nodding a greeting to the two ghosts, you lead the group to a building painted a pretty turquoise blue colour. The sign above the double doors a stark white with calligraphy writing simply stating Elysium Management. It was a building set up like an administrative office of three stories, and you led the group right up to the top floor.
“Just a heads up…Rudy is a little suspicious of people.” You admitted standing outside a door with a nameplate the only descriptor, “He’ll come off a little gruff and rude, but when you get passed that he doesn’t shut up.”
“I can hear you through the door dumbass.” The words were called out from the office door opening.
The man standing in the entry wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His honey-brown eyes lit up with a teasing look before it shuttered at the sight of four strangers behind you. Rudy had valid reasons to not fully trust people after the shitshow in his hometown when he was alive.
“And you’ve brought strangers.” Rudy deadpanned with a sigh concluding his sentence as he stepped back into the office. It appeared like the world repositioned itself on the young man’s shoulders once more.
“I should be done within the hour. We can go over everything.” You informed your business partner and friend. Receiving only a nod from Rudy, you closed the door to his office, cutting off the view from your guests.
“He’s..uh.”
“Standoffish? Rudy keeps his past to himself, all he’s ever revealed is that he’s from a town a few hours away.” You spoke, opening the door to your own office decorated differently from Rudy’s more sterile black and white aesthetic.
Your office had splashes of colour with vintage posters of both music and film framed on the walls—a plush couch in the corner with a basket of blankets next to it. Instead of sitting behind the dark desk, you chose the couch instead. As you settled in the corner, you flicked one finger bringing an extra seat over.
The motion shocking the three boys accompanying Willie who had seen the abilities himself.
“Okay so why did you want to search for me?” You questioned the skater leaning back in the seat.
“When did this all happen?” Willie countered gesturing to the office in a building settled in the middle of a ghost town. A literal ghost town.
“There’s an empty lot in LA that used to house an abandoned apartment building that Rudy and I both called home. Of course, it was torn down, and we kinda knew that there’s wasn’t a place that didn’t have the threat of being annihilated at some point.” The memories of those unknown days trickled into your mind among the more positive ones, “We wanted a home. A place to call our own.”
“A week or so later a skittish pixie of a brunette crashed into us full speed. Susie had a certain ability that Caleb desired to have under his thumb. There are so many ghosts he had manipulated into selling him their soul. Rudy and I both wanted to stop Caleb from having that chance for everyone.” You continued, “Can I show you?”
The moon shone through the light clouds as a duo wandered LA’s streets in different mental states. The only home you had known had been unceremoniously ripped down with no future plans in place. Your entire life had been in that apartment in a building you had once thought only you inhabited. You had been unaware that on a separate floor, Rudy had been dwelling.
The two teens in starkly different clothing grew close with each other through the whole being the dead thing they shared. The mission was to find another place too, use but the feeling of home being ripped away tore at their hearts. The apartment was a place Caleb Covington hadn’t been aware of.
Your thoughts threatened to turn darker as a force knocked you onto your bac—aA short brunette groaning in pain to the left of you. The girl was Gwen, who would become very important to both Rudy and you.
I’ve always been a little different than most people. I can move things short distances, but I developed a specific talent. I can get inside people’s minds to plant, remove or alter memories or simply talk and read their thoughts.
The sound of your voice in their heads freaked them out more than they would like to admit. The intrusive tickle of something in their brains unsettling as you made a more present entry so they could feel it.
“What?”
“This is why I can’t be anywhere near Caleb. The whole reason he gives people stamps and takes their souls is because of me.” You fully admitted clasping your fingers in your lap, “He couldn’t cope with the fear of another ghost leaving so added a stipulation to joining his Club.”
“How did you come to create Elysium?” Alex inquired leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. Luke and Reggie followed his posture as the anticipation built.
“Everyone deserves a safe place. A place as far away from Caleb as possible and we do so for free. No fee is required, and ghosts are free to come and go as they please. They are welcome as long as their unfinished business keeps them in this plane.”
It sounded like a sweet deal to the group of teens, but they had other commitments, “You can tell us more, but we need your help.”
The pleading in the messy-haired brunette tore at your heartstrings like the one time Willie brought you to his house. It had been shortly before your friendship fractured, a few years ago. He had brought you to a suburb for low-income families and straight to the backyard where a twelve-year-old year danced.
The dead skater boy and the rebel sat in the patio chair on the tiny porch nestled in the postmark sized backyard. A quintet of pre-pubescent girls danced on the lawn to some bubblegum pop song. The Young girl was submissive to a more confident girl even when the venue was the Young girl’s home.
“The girl to the left is my little sister Kayla. She’s twelve now, it’s been seven years since I died.” Willie’s brown eyes saddened at the dancer who had a spark of maturity in her eyes, “I check in every once in a while. These are Kayla’s friends. The bossy girl is Carrie, and while the band is a group, she is the unofficial leader of the band Carrie’s Constellations.”
“She looks happy.”
“Kayla’s always been bubbly in personality, but she had questionable friends.” Willie outright admitted keeping his eyes pinned to the girl that had grown up in a blink of an eye. Her dark hair concealed by the gaudy purple wig; the colour assigned to the teenager.
“It’s nice that she still enjoys dance.” Willie finished reaching out to grab your hand in his and just like that Willie transitioned back into carefree, “I found this really cool skatepark I think you’d like.”
“We don’t have a lot of time.” Alex winced as the three musicians flinched as a sudden purple spark of colour lit up their midsections.
Like a tentacle, your mind reached into the quiet raven-haired boy with the leather jacket. Beyond the imagery of docile golden retrievers and steaming plates of food, you found the regret and fear in the boy. Stepping into a recent memory, you watched their experience at the Hollywood Ghost Club.
“You’ve met Caleb.” You sighed roughly pushing your index finger between your brows feeling the familiar ache.
“It was a stupid decision,” Luke spoke up, tearing his focus from the mysterious girl that ultimately had the power in her hands. The entire plan was weighing on the decision you would give, “Either we join his house band, or we don’t exist.”
“Hm.” You spoke as the kaleidoscope of colours in Luke’s eyes glittered under the sterile lights of the room. It was difficult to look away from the enthralling teenage ghost, but the emotion wafting off Willie was concerning.
“They died before they could perform at the Orpheum. We’re banking that getting the opening slot with giving them the push into crossing over.” The long-haired skater leaned closer, “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I can’t do much.”
“So, you want to pull ’09 incident again?” You completely ignored the trio on the couch staring directly at the sheepish skater with raised eyebrows, “Only this time without the train?”
“Train?” Alex whispered, looking between the two long-time friends with interest and then next thing he knew Alex was in the backseat of a van crushed between Reggie and Luke equally confused.
Chicago, Illinois 2009
William Young and Y/N Y/L/N were complete hellions in the ghost world, creating havoc that fascinated the living population. The recent event being the highjacking of a van filled with drunk teenage boys. These boys had been the sole reason a young girl was recovering in a hospital with life-threatening injuries. The scene changed to a hospital room with Willie and Y/N watching a girl with massive bruising laid.
It had hit both Willie and Y/N hard catching the tail end of the new report, Willie thinking of how that could have been his sister. Even if Kayla was only five years old, having a sister set things more in perspective. For you it was a flashback to when you were alive and thus led you to the ICU room for the girl.
Slipping into her unconscious mind was easy but while the injured teen appeared peaceful to the hospital staff, she was anything but. The poor girl’s mind replayed the traumatic incident over and over like a movie; keeping in the shadows, you gently repainted the portrait with lighter and brighter images.
For Willie, he watched as you wavered on your ghostly feet and smoothed out the features of the girl. The heart monitor subtly changing as the injured girl relaxed, and suddenly your interference heightened her chances of survival.
“I got it.” You spoke to Willie with a heated glare on your features and when the ghostly musician trio blinked they were back in the van.
Your hands gripped the van’s steering wheel with Willie turned in the passenger seat to watch a group of living boys scream. To the living eyes in the van, no one was in the front seats but whispered words spoke into their minds.
You’re going to go straight to the police and tell them what you did. You’ll hand over the photographic evidence and demand the worst punishment. You’ll leave the girl alone, or we’ll come back to finish our job. You will pay for the hospital bills if the family agrees.
The boys trembled with the putrid scent of urine permeating the enclosed vehicle. The distant sound of a train echoed in the distance as the van stopped on the tracks. No matter how much the living boys moved the doors refused to open, and the windows remained unbreakable.
“WE promise!” The ringleader cried, slamming his shoulder against the door with the train’s bright lights illuminating the van.
“Let us go!” The other screamed, slamming his bruising hands on the window.
Alex was flinching at each slam of fists on the glass, leaving smears of blood. Knuckles broke from the window. At the very last second, your foot slammed the gas pedal taking the van millimetres from the train screeching on the tracks.
You and Willie stared at the stationary train lit up from the van’s headlights with the rhythmic flashes of the red and blue police lights. The van’s seat arrangement was different with the ringleader in the driver’s seat.
The three ghost musicians standing unseen behind the duo but in the real world out of the dreamlike memory you knew.
Elysium, Present Day
“Holy fucking shit.” Alex cussed out of breath, leaning back on the couch with shaking limbs and fear in his bloodless veins.
Luke’s eyes blinked owlishly at the boy that he had once thought could never do something as terrifying and torturous. He was afraid to even ask the outcome of the life-threatening incident you did on the assailants.
“That is the reason for the train.” You barely glanced at the shaken trio to stare at who had once been your partner in crime, “Willie, I have responsibilities here. We just opened a new division for the children we house here.”
“It would take a few hours.” Willie pleaded, positioning his hands into a pleading position turning on his charm. The puppy eyes you had always struggled to say no to as if you weren’t the type of person easily capable of staying strong.
“We’ll do anything.” Luke pleaded just as much recalling the countless times he had charmed himself out of situations, “Please help us.”
“I’ll have to make arrangements with Rudy and Susie, but I might be able to pull some strings. I’m really sorry Willie, but I’m gonna need to erase your knowledge of this place. There are too many people depending on this setup.”
Outside the Orpheum
Outside the legendary venue, three out of four band members for Julie and the Phantoms walked up to the marquee. Hopefully, the letters for Downslide would be changed into their band name just under the main act. Everything was riding on Willie and Y/N’s capabilities. Trusting the skater was challenging to do and more so someone they didn’t fully know.
“Look, don’t worry, guys. Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex soothed his friends on each side of him. All three wearing concerned expressions at the place that hopefully was their last stop before crossing over.
“This is gonna work, right?” Reggie questioned with his hand confidently sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. The relaxed posture a juxtaposition to the anxiety and nerves on his flushed face.
“It has to.” Luke’s lips pursed into a pout with his words tinged with a dialect different from his best friends. The faint souvenir from the place he spent a few years growing up before moving to LA.
Luke’s words were highlighted by the groans of pain as that flash of purple courtesy of Caleb’s death stamp appeared. All three hunched over clutched their chests breathing through the pain; Luke was the first to unfurl his form.
“Whoa!” You gasped flashing underneath the marquee beside Willie. Rushing to give Luke support without even a second thought.
When the aftershock faded, the guitarist stood straight up with a thankful smile that boarded on adoration.
“Are you guys, okay?” Willie asked, keeping back with the swell of guilt that happened, seeing the familiar symptoms of post-shock. He had felt them a time or two in the time he had sold his soul to his unfortunate boss.
“Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before,” Alex replied, rubbing his hand over the baby blue shirt he had chosen today. His blue eyes doing their best to avoid looking into the puppy-like ones of the skater, “How’d it go?”
“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas.” Willie proudly announcing turning on his heel to show off the Downslide jacket he took from the lead singer. His fist extending to bump yours instinctively before he did so with Luke.
“With no chance of getting back in time.” You snickered in response living on the adrenaline and nostalgia of the rebellion. With Elysium, you had turned around your life, “Meaning-“
“-there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freakin’ out.”
“Nah. This is Hollywood, man.” Willie scoffed with a wave of his hand matching the one you supplied, “I’m sure he’s being very professional.”
As Willie finished his sentence up in the promotor’s office out of earshot of the ghosts stood a very pissed adult. His finger-wagging his finger with teeth clenched, his flushed skin a juxtaposition to the cheery blue Hawaiian style shirt. Frank Wolfe couldn’t believe how stupid his once opening band was.
“What do you mean the bus drove itself into the middle of the desert?” Frank questioned progressively growing more and more frustrated. His assistant Tasha casting concerned looks to her typically collected boss, “BUSES DON’T DRIVE THEMSELVES!”
Tasha flinched at the sudden loud growl of the sentence but more so as Wolfe starting slamming the phone into the cradle. Her fingers halting on her keyboard, going over the list of frequent acts. Unfortunately, the five acts had other commitments causing Tasha to fear tonight. The blonde lady was worried Wolfe could have a breakdown once more.
While Willie snickered to his own words, your eyes, not your mind, could read that Alex wanted to talk to the skater. With only a teasing jab of your elbow in Willie’s ribs you shuffled around the drummer to join Reggie and Luke away from the ‘will they won’t they’ couple.
“So, can you do me a favour?” Luke hesitantly questioned you with his inquisitive eyes a greener colour in the sunlight. His attractive eyes took your full attention with a simple tilt of your head, “Julie’s family means a lot to us, and could you keep an eye on them?”
“And Carlos,” Reggie interjected rocking on his polished pleather boots he had spent ages on finding for his rocker aesthetic back in the ’90s.
“-Julie’s little brother.” Luke supplied at the confusion painted clearly on your pretty features. His green eyes scoured your face as he always did that flushed both his and your faces red.
“Yeah, of course, I can.” You firmly told the two dead boys each standing tense in front of you.
You could easily see the love they held for the living family that had come to mean so much in such a short amount of time. Since first meeting them you had always gotten the feeling that their living years weren’t the best. For Alex, it was living in the ’90s as a young gay teenager during a terrifying time for the LGBTQ+ community. Reggie flinched at the raised voices, and Luke had longingly stared after the happy families milling around the Elysium.
“Did you ever find out what your unfinished business was?” Reggie inquired fixing a strand of his dark hair that had fallen onto his blemish-free skin. Your smile faltered at his question; nonetheless, you answered.
“I did.” The two words carried a sense of pain with them. Your eyes unfocused recalling the euphoric feeling of seeing the breathtaking white light of the peace exuding from the beyond and the agony of denying crossing over.
“How-“
“Hey! Y/N!” Willie called out to the young denim wearing ghost with his beaming grin, “Don’t go stealing buses without me!”
Luke swore he could see your laughter in the air, just as endearing as the smoky quality your voice carried.
“Don’t go glitter bombing criminals.” You returned as your best friend dropped his board to skate off to wherever he was needed. It was bittersweet to reconnect with him knowing that it could be the last time.
When Caleb found out, not an if but a when Willie had a hand in helping his desired band it was high chance Willie would be gone. Caleb was all too powerful, and when he was betrayed, it never ended well.
“I need to get back to Elysium. Susie’s arrival is tonight. Good luck with tonight.” Your words were accompanied by a hug for each of the boys. The one with Luke lingering the most, “I wish you could play for the kids.”
“Yeah. Me too.” The brunette, messy-haired boy’s words carried a hidden desire simply to be in your space more. The teenage ghost helps those in limbo while wearing a jean jacket with patches from many decades. The jacket creating an unknown time you had lived.
“Goodbye, boys.” You told the trio before you poofed away from the busy streets of Hollywood where the band had come full circle in death.
“Are you guys, okay?” Reggie inquired his best friends, forgoing his casual personality for the layers underneath. His blue-green eyes filled with only concern.
Alex and Luke shared a lingering look, “Yeah. We’re okay.”
The dining hall was filled with long tables and chairs populated by the ghostly forms of everyone currently living at Elysium. It was reminiscent of a British book turned film series of youth with magic abilities. The series had been a favourite of a former resident.
“Incredible.” Susie breathed staring at the joyful people having a place to call home. Making the limbo between life and death more bearable.
“We’ve done well. You smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, “It’s so nice to have you back.”
Elysium was so much more than you could ever hope for. It kept growing and growing with more ghosts. Since the founding of the haven, new developments continuously happened with one resident’s unique ability.
Harvey had joined the haven a year into the founding bringing the ability to gift the residents with the capacity to eat. During his life, Harvey had been a renowned chef and the dream to make food it carried into his death. As long as Harvey cooked the food with his volunteer staff ghosts were able to eat it.
“Harvey has outdone himself again,” Rudy announced his arrival at your side with his arms crossed, displaying his corded muscles. The constellation of moles on his face standing on his pale creamy skin.
“Rudy!” Susie squealed, throwing herself into his arms with the same glee that came each time. Susie and Rudy since their first meeting had a special bond as chosen siblings who bonded over heartache.
Rudy had died, leaving his best friend and his strawberry blonde girlfriend in the living world back in their dark hometown. It was just one tidbit he had revealed throughout your friendship. The only physical connection to his living friends was the three picture on his desk of a group of people.
The first picture had a lean version of Rudy with his arms thrown over a Hispanic boy with a crooked jaw and glimmering brown eyes. The Hispanic boy had his arm around a pretty brunette girl with deep dimples and wavy brown hair. The two boys wore a sports uniform of some kind holding lacrosse sticks.
The second picture had Rudy and the Hispanic teen again but with a beautiful petite strawberry blonde. Along with them was a brunette with blunt chin-length hair and hardened features besides a shorter blonde male with blue eyes.
The last picture was of Rudy with the same Hispanic boy wearing graduation caps and gowns with two beaming adults. The male adult wore a tan shirt adorned with a star on his left pec and dark brown pants. He had to be Rudy’s father with similar features. The woman was of Hispanic descent with laugh lines, and thick dark curly hair pulled into a half do; obviously the Hispanic teen’s mother.
The pain in Rudy’s face each time he saw the pictures closed off a desire to ask him about the people.
“Hello, Susie.” Rudy chuckled, wrapping his arms around her small stature, “How was Europe?”
“Why don’t you ask the five newcomers I found before Caleb?” Susie teased gesturing to the ragtag of new ghosts immersed in conversations.
“Family?”
“A boarding school had a fire. Those five were in the fire when it happened and the only victims out of seven that didn’t cross over.” Susie’s tone faded into a melancholy tone with her small arms wrapping around her middle. Faded brown eyes staring at the younger of the five seeing herself in them.
“That’s terrible.” You whispered, staring at the table with one finger picking the patch of a band from the ’70s, “I can’t imagine how scary that could have been.”
“Yeah.” Susie softly spoke, pushing a strand of her hair off her temple just as equally sad for the way that death had no qualms of how it took.
The youngest ghost in Elysium had been a three-year-old toddler who passed over quickly when he was found by the deceased mother. The two had been separated at death and luckily shared the same unfinished business of finding each other.
“Miss Reynold’s has twelve spirits that finished their business.” Rudy softly informed his two partners. Soft smiles formed on their faces at the happy news of Elysium’s goal being accomplished again.
“May they find everlasting peace and serenity.” Your words intertwined with Susie in perfect sync of the motto coined after the first crossover, “I suppose the Serenity will begin planning?”
“Have the Serenity ever not performed their duty?” Rudy raised one dark eyebrow with a rhetorical question. E/c and faded brown met recalling the countless times Elysium had hosted a celebration for those who found their unfinished business.
“That is-whoa.” You gasped stumbling at the scream echoing in your mind accessorized with the vintage sound of a band.
Calloused hands grasped your shaking form from collapsing onto the ground from a proverbial psionic shove. Agony slammed your brain flickering into an old fashioned club filled with people in both colour or black and white attire. You caught sight of baby pink, deep royal blue and bright red suits. The pained screams of a skater in a dark room overtaking the music in the Club.
“No.” You whispered clenching your hands on your head, feeling the dread building in the pit of your stomach.
The joyful voices in the hall muted while your body flickered with the deep instinct to leave the haven for the one place that utterly terrified you. It was the familiar touch of Susie and Rudy that kept you from finding the one person that meant the world. Willie’s soul was on the cutting board, and Caleb obsession with performing was the only reason Willie still existed.
“Willie.” You whimpered tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, feeling the panic in the skater’s mind.
“Susie help me.” Rudy stonily spoke ushering the distraught girl from the busy hall into an empty room.
Your shaking body finding purchase on the plush sofa with Susie holding one hand in hers and Rudy brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead. It wasn’t often your psionic abilities left you in such a state, but the distance proved difficult.
“Shit.” Rudy grumbled frowning, “This is bad. Y/N, we need to get you to Willie. You’re flickering, and the distance isn’t helping.”
“You want to take one of Elysium’s strongest ghosts straight into Caleb’s domain? You know how much he wants her in his Club.” Susie hissed to the co-founder of the haven they had to take extraordinary measures to protect, “It won’t work! You’re throwing her to the dogs!”
“Susanne I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary. Besides, we always have a plan.” Rudy retorted narrowing his whiskey eyes at the younger girl, “I’ll take her to get Willie, but you need to stay here to make sure everything runs smooth.”
“Are you sure you can-“Susie cut herself off with a nod as Rudy displayed the reason he could do it, “Okay, yep, you can do it.”
Rudy came back into her vision in his signature position with one eyebrow raised, and his arms crossed. The reason why Elysium worked so well was Rudy’s ability to erase an object from the view of anyone. He could make himself invisible to anyone and in practice, developed it to hide items and location. With his ability, Elysium was permanently hidden to anyone outside of his power. Illusions were his unique ability.
“You aren’t the first person to doubt my capability.” Rudy informed the other ghost reaching one hand out. With his fingers caressing your temple, he snapped his fingers, transporting you and him away from Elysium.
The empty room of Elysium’s dining hall was exchanged for the business streets of Los Angeles, bringing an improvement in your body. Pushing away from Rudy, your eyes frantically scoured the unfamiliar area for any hint of Willie.
“He’s close.” You exclaimed closing your e/c eyes to focus solely on your sixth sense kicking in. Rudy’s gasp snapped your eyes open to see his eyes pinned on your feet where a glowing neon purple smoke wisped.
“What is that?” Rudy demanded crouching to touch it, but it was like nothing was there. His whiskey brown eyes meeting your confused gaze.
“I have no clue, but I feel like I have to follow it.” Robotically your feet started walking following the smoke through the streets.
Rudy was silent as you came upon a park swallowed by the darkness of the night with the moon barely showing through the clouds. The odd purple smoke the only offering of light so far from the path with street lights.
“Of course we have to go through a park.” Rudy grumbled, “Nothing good ever happens in wooded areas at night.”
Lifting your eyes from the smoke, you looked at a deeply unsettled Rudy lost in the past only he knew. His mind recalling traipsing through the forest with his asthmatic best friend in the middle of the night. The last night before the unknown took over his life. Oddly enough dying and returning as a ghost was the most normal with everything that happened with his friends alive.
“You can go ba-“
“We’re not splitting up,” Rudy growled plainly scowling at your hesitant features. Rudy’s slammed the door closed on his past life.
Sensing unease Rudy’s calloused hand reached over to slide into yours in platonic support. You continued your mission, unaware that three certain ghosts in breathtaking suits were searching for you.
Alex, Reggie, and Luke, affected by the purple jolts, failed to find the one place where their plan B could work. What Julie hadn’t known was that the guys had a plan just in case the Orpheum wasn’t their unfinished business. The three would go to Elysium to accept their fate and ensure Julie believed they crossed over.
With no Elysium in sight, the boys returned to the Molina garage hoping that one thing would go their way: Julie would go straight to bed.
The glow purple smoke trailed through the city park into an older part of Los Angeles before it stopped. Where the smoke stopped was a vast empty space surrounded by trees.
“Well, that’s a little anticlimactic.” You grumbled crossing your arms, “Willie’s somewhere here. Do you think Caleb has an underground lair?”
Rudy cast an unamused expression at you, “From past experience. No, that’s not likely. He probably has an apartment downtown. An underground network of caves in the woods is more shapeshifter style but still not true.”
“One: You’re rambling. Two: What the hell kind of life did you have?” You questioned furrowing your eyebrows at his rather odd piece of information.
“An old one.” Rudy spoke, staring ahead, “Besides, I think we should check out whatever building is hidden from our sight.”
“Hid-“Your mouth halted when Rudy roughly gripped your shoulders to twist you to face the empty space.
“Close your eyes. Trust your senses.” Rudy spoke softly, “Or pay attention to the slab of concrete in the middle of an empty space with well-kempt grass.”
Your palm slammed your forehead with a resounding thump in the night with distance lights from surrounding buildings. Rudy squeezed your shoulders as he stepped to the side once more in turn, closing his eyes.
“Walk in my mind.” Rudy stated for the first time in your friendship, allowing you to look in his mind. Your hesitance was met with another squeeze of comfort in his calloused grip.
Your tired eyes closed as your mind timidly stepped into the rather breathtaking mind of Rudy, who felt guilt the most. While Susie’s mind was like a summer day spent at a lake with brightness and gorgeous field of flowers, Rudy’s mind was different.
It was dark in Rudy’s mind but not as if evil, but as if he had been touched by the darkness and painted permanently. There’s was the odd whisper of childlike laughter intermingled with the full adult laugh of a woman; the laughter overshadowed with the sound of funeral music. You felt the lose near that memory. Rudy’s mind was painful to be in and drowning in the feelings he had.
Your breath caught seeing a door you assumed was of his childhood room with a name you couldn’t pronounce for the life of you.
“My parents named me after my mom’s dad.” Rudy spoke through his mind with a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t say it, so I called myself Mischief. I stopped using it when my mom died, and I went by a shortened version of my last name.”
Your eyes watched as the door disappeared, and the reason you were in his mind came back to the forefront. Your eyes watched the image forming of a vintage hotel rippling in the air before it solidified. The size reminded you of a castle, and it felt like you were storming it.
Without any more mental interaction, you stepped out of Rudy’s mind back into the real world. The very same hotel in plain sight to both Rudy and your surprised elation.
“Honestly didn’t think that would work.” Rudy breathlessly laughed, staring at the hotel once hidden to them. A dark comparison to Elysium.
“How do we play this, Rudy?” You inquired looking over at him, “This is very different from stealing cars and scaring teens.”
“Easy. We blend in.” Rudy responded, holding one hand out to grasp yours in which you noticed your attire had changed, “Perks of illusion? I can alter our own perception of ourselves.”
“Oh, wow. That looks expensive.” You replied, staring at the diamond bracelet on your wrist matching the necklace you wore.
Rudy’s attire had changed from his normal button-up with the sleeves rolled to be layered under a charcoal grey vest and jacket. Sleek matching pants to his coat and the dark black-tie matching the elegant black dress you wore. He had taken pity on your footwear to fit your ability to walk and for the fancy place.
He even had diamond cufflinks that matched you, but the wedding rings on your fingers took you aback. Your widened eyes staring at him.
“Tonight we’re Mr and Mrs Martin,” Rudy spoke choking on the last name he gave as it was the upscale name toppled from his lips.
“Okay. This is a test of our abilities.”
“This is if our plan A of being invisible doesn’t work. The one thing we know for sure is that Caleb has never seen either one of us.” Rudy soothed your nerves with a half-smile,” Let’s get Willie out.”
Your arm slipped into the crook of his to walk to the front door, “I feel like a spy. I feel like that Naomi Roma-“
“It’s Natasha Romanoff. Have you ever seen one of the marvel movies?” Rudy demanded walking up the entrance with a pained smile, “You’re like my best friend and when he wouldn’t watch Star Wars! Never caught one of my references!”
“Okay! Sorry, we can watch the movies when this over.” You grumbled as your heels clicked in the foyer of the hotel. The inside made you feel like you were sent back in time to the roaring ’20s.
“Oh damn, this is nice,” Rudy whispered, staring at the chandelier in the extravagant lobby of the last place you wanted to be.
While on the outside the two ghosts appeared cool, calm and collected they were anything but. Both a wreck inside from the perilous errand they had done that could very well be the ending of Elysium. Rudy nudged you to begin finding Willie with your mind, but you didn’t need to.
That same glowing mist was on the ground pulling you in the direction of a dark hall away from the route to the Club. Rudy kept his eye out, a characteristic carried into the afterlife from his time with the FBI, as you followed the mist. The hall continued to get more and more dark as the walk continued.
Finally at the end was a blood-red door.
“I swear to god if he kills his Club members, I’ll lose it.” You hissed to your arm candy, “What if he’s really H. H. Holmes disguised as a former magician? His door is blood red!”
“Have you been using your serial killer colouring book again?” Rudy demanded stuttering his steps to place his whiskey brown eyes on you. The sheepish expression on your face was enough of a response to gain the look of disbelief could have sent you into hysterics had the time not been too serious.
With a grin belying the situation, you twisted your wrist to open the door to hopefully where Willie was being held.
“What a cliché. He’s keeping Willie in the basement?”
“Will you shut up!” Rudy hissed right back with a clenched jaw entering the somewhat unfinished basement. It was cold even to your dead standards where the cold didn’t bother that much.
At the bottom in front of a desk with only a small lamp as illumination sat a vacant-eyed Willie painstakingly detailing a fabric. The lush purple velvet fabric was bougie, to say the least, and rather outlandish for the skater.
“Willie.” You softly coaxed the teen to glance up from the fabric you found to be something Caleb would wear. Willie’s brown eyes barely met yours before they returned to the sewing needle in his hand and the tiny beads in the bowl.
“Caleb is actually forcing him to be his personal seamstress?” Rudy scoffed,d stepping right up by your side to look at the work.
Both trying unsuccessfully to coaxed Willie out of the stupor he was engaged in the sudden poofing wasn’t heard.
“Mrs. Young taught both Willie and Kayla how to sew. She’s quite the seamstress, reminds me of my old one.” Caleb wistfully responded with a smarmy smile on his face, “Well if it isn’t little Y/N and whoever she brought. Nice threads.”
“Let him go.”
Caleb’s index finger caressed the corner of his mouth so gently to ensure the stage makeup didn’t budge. His clear ocean blue eyes turning thunderstorm navy as his lips parted in such a bone-chilling sinister grin.
“Let him go? He tried to take my new house band from me. He thinks that those boys not crossing over is his punishment. I think that adorable but so very wrong.” Caleb shrugged, dragging his finger down the bicep of his puppet.
“What can we do to- “
“You see after he’s done fixing the tuxedo jacket I’m going to tie him up on the table and slowly strip away his soul piece by piece. No, Willie won’t get the quick and easy zap erasing him. I’ll personally see it’s the most painful thing he experiences and I’ll do so happily.”
“Willie! Wake up!” Rudy shouted, shaking the skater’s shoulder frantically with his focus never entirely leaving the mad man. The whiskey brown eyes panicking at the odd displaced feeling of reliving his living life.
“That won’t work.” Caleb chuckled crossing his arms, “It’s rather amusing you think you can beat me. I’m Caleb Covington! I’m persuasive enough for hundred of memberships to financially benefit the Club.”
“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N bitch.” You snarled viciously throwing your mind into the nefarious narcissistic mind of the washed-up magician.
Caleb Convington had started to bore his audience with the same tricks at every previous show. The lack of interest depleting the attendance numbers and severely hurting the financials. So Caleb decided to broaden his talent by copying the likes of Harry Houdini.
He had a knack for both the dramatics and swindling his audience to be tricked by the illusions he created. The heightened popularity increased Caleb’s thirst for status and fame, so he overestimated himself.
Surrounded by adoring fans and journalists, Caleb had his assistant lock him in a safe with no key, to the audience’s knowledge, and push the safe into the river. Unfortunately from the infamous magician and escape artist the safe warped due to the material it as made out of. Caleb Covington died drowning in a safe at the bottom of the river.
You flinched feeling the emotion at the time Caleb had died and the feeling of disappointment at not leaving a legacy. Your continued your trek in the struggling mind of a man who viewed himself as invincible. You caught glimpses of a young Caleb with his family and the moments of tragedy that shaped him.
You saw his first taste of power in death and the content since the first time he erased a ghost from existence. It sickened you more as you reached the point where Willie came into Caleb’s path.
I’m unique, Caleb. Unlike you with the illusions and empty promises, I have real power that you could only dream of. Hearing your thoughts and planting my own words is just the tip of the iceberg.
Caleb screamed in response holding his aching head as you cruelly ripped every memory of Willie from his mind. The screams echoed not only in the basement but through the hotel the Club worked out of.
“Stop!” Caleb pleaded, shaking his head back and forth. The anguish was un-fazing to both the lucid people in the room. Rudy too busy trying to wake your best friend from the trance he had been placed in.
“I can alter memories. Remove them and even plant memories of my own design. You may take from people, but I give to people. I refused to give you anything.” You circled the man seeing double from outside and inside his mind.
I’m everything you wish you could be.
Your last action in his mind was searing a burn that flashed across his entire body from a nerve stroked. With the heat equivalent to magma in his veins, you burrowed to where Caleb controlled the souls. With a smear of your fingers, Willie’s soul was released from Caleb clutches.
“C’mon. Get Willie.” You told Rudy sending Caleb into an empty trance as if he was no more than a wax figure. Rudy eased the skater up from the desk while you exchanged Caleb to sit on the chair holding the needle, “We need to leave. I’ll get rid of any speck of Willie in memories.”
“I didn’t even get to punch the guy.” Rudy pouted, dragging his feet up the stairs away from the magician.
“That’s a good thing. I’m sure Caleb would be more pissed about his nose being damaged than losing Willie.” You scoffed helping the man urge Willie to walk up the stairs and then down the hallway to the entrance.
As you walked you brushed the minds of every individual in the building, all members in attendance, you gently removed all traces of Willie. By the time you reached the edge of the park, you had relaxed.
“We should get him to Alex, they didn’t crossover. I can still feel their imprint.”
“He’d be safer at Elysium to lay low.” Rudy replied, keeping on eye on the skater and on anyone he could see.
With only a nod, you ushered the ghost to teleport both the skater and himself back to the safe walls of Elysium. As he did so, you reached out with your mind to the blonde-haired sweet male in adoration with your best friend.
Clicking his place was easy enough for your draining power after the taxing bond with Willie’s absent presence. Instead of walking as you would generally choose you poofed on the cement pad in the backyard of a home. The surrounding skirt of the backyard encased with plants and flowers.
“Hello?” You called out in the darkness. The soft, mumbled words had your feet moving in the direction.
Standing in a circle mesmerized at the purple tattoos lifting off their skin was the boys of Julie and the Phantoms. The teenage beautiful Puerto Rican girl stood across from Luke with Reggie and Alex on each side.
“Alex?” You called out to the boy wearing a baby pink vintage tuxedo that complimented his skin and hair exquisitely. The outfit definitely screamed that Caleb had something to do with it, especially with the missing fanny pack.
“Y/N?” Luke gasped turning to see you in incredibly fancy attire matching his gorgeous blue suit modified to having no sleeves. The anticipation of eating at you to find Reggie rocking a red suit with butterflies on the fabric.
“I’m sorry you didn’t crossover.” Your words soothed the sad teenagers that had accepted their fate only to have no control again. An introduction was brought between you and Julie when the living girl elbowed Alex.
“Not that we mind but what are you doing here? How did you get here, and why are you dressed up?” Luke inquired, pushing his hands into his suit pockets, engrossed with your gorgeous appearance.
“Well when you crash a fancy Club with a narcissistic founder…any means to blend in is necessary.” You responded, “As for your second question.”
Your finger tapped your temple before continuing to speak, “I’m here because Alex deserves to know. You all do.”
The boy in baby pink frantically stepped forward, “What happened?”
“Maybe it’s best, I just show you?” Your brows furrowed to your own question accompanied by your lower lip being bitten by your teeth. The red lipstick not budging as it was an illusion as well.
“Hu-“Reggie grunted as he spiralled with his two dead bandmates into the scene that had sent you on your determined mission.
The rough action of being drawn into your memories as jarring as the first time and just as scary. The maniacal magician pacing the dark basement simply to heighten his dramatic speech. Alex’s heart clenched at the vacant look in the skater’s eyes with the faintest tinge of purple in the gorgeous brown.
“I feel like I got carsick.” Reggie moaned leaning over to clutch his midsection once you released the ghostly trio. Reggie would often gain a look of disbelief and horror from the blonde drummer, but his entire brain was centred on Willie.
“Rudy took Willie back to Elysium where he’ll be safe. If you want, you can join us.” The words were offered to both the dead and living currently in the room.
Opting out, Julie retired to her bedroom to calm down from the rush of performing at the Orpheum of all places. Besides she felt like going to Elysium was best for the three boys, and maybe they would move there. Julie would miss them, but she knew they’d always come back.
Susie was quick to hug you tightly as you stepped through the gates with the dead members of Julie’s band. The boys changed out of the tuxedos they had dropped off at a donation centre, Reggie had wanted to burn them. After living on the streets for a short while, Luke understood the need for clothing, so the clothing was taken to shelters.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. Rudy told me you overexerted yourself again.” Susie spoke with a deeply furrowed brow oblivious to the puppy dog look from the bassist in red flannel.
“If I didn’t, Willie would be gone.”
“You’re pale yet flushed cheeks. I can see you have a fever. You need to rest.”
“I need to soothe Willie out of the trance that psychotic prick put him in.” You scoffed shaking Susie’s hand off your shoulder to sidestep her, “I’ll rest when he’s fine.”
“I-“
“At least gab something from the cafeteria for energy.” Susie’s brown eyes dimmed at your typical brush off. The same routine of overusing your powers and not recharging correctly, “He’s in Cottage A!”
The boys were on your heels as you power-walked through the streets of the ghost city with one location in mind. The living streets with homes of all style and colours appeared passed the bakery, the school and the clothing stores.
“You can eat?” Reggie whispered as a little ghost girl licked an ice cream cone walked by.
“Harvey adored cooking for people when he living, so he continued in death. Harvey can make food for ghosts, and so can his staff if they work in his kitchen. His pastry chef provides baked goods to Flora’s Bakery and makes the best ice cream.”
“Oh my god.” Reggie practically squealed wholly flabbergasted by the almost perfect place you created, “How do you pay for things?”
“We don’t. What Harvey doesn’t grow in his garden, he can make ingredients out of thin air. We all have some kind of job we do. Everyone has a role in fulfilling to keep Elysium running.” You simply spoke keeping your eyes on the cottage with the robin’s egg blue door.
As if he knew Rudy flung the door open elated to see you standing there. Both of you still wearing the illusioned attire. IN milliseconds he wiped the illusion away, returning you back into your street clothes.
“How is he?”
“No change.” Rudy replied, following your steps in the living room. The skater was staring blankly at the wall.
“Willie!” Alex cried, rushing over to kneel beside the boy that had so swiftly stolen his heart without him realizing. The emotion in his word didn’t get a microscopic flinch from the formerly so-called enemy.
“Everyone be quiet.” You demanded forcibly staring each person in the room down for a mere second. With the desired silence continued, you ignored the headache forming in your head to step into the skater’s mind.
William Young was screaming to be released by the prison of his own mind Caleb had forced him into. He had felt the restriction on his soul lifted and the mist of purple leaving his brain, but he was still stuck.
He could barely breathe with the weight on his chest. Willie didn’t like feeling stuck in one place as he was a wanderer at heart. It was a reason why he had joined the Hollywood Ghost Club with the promise of travel.
Willie come back
In his mind, the sound of your voice firstly grounded the young man as a mirage of your form flickered. Your eyes screamed worry while the smile was one of relief.
Caleb can’t hurt you anymore. Come home.
The spectators watching see your flinching wavering expression and the tensing of Willie’s facial muscles. Everyone sat on the edge of their seat as the two pairs eyes opened in synch of the yells of hurt.
What they didn’t expect was your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and you to collapse onto the floor.
“Y/N!” Willie cried, stumbling off the couch onto the cold floor where your body lay prone, “Wake up!”
It seemed everyone forgot the little detail of being dead.
“She’s fine.” Rudy remarked, shaking your arm with such gentle care matching the four guys’ care in the room.
Your eyelids fluttered open under the bright lights of the unused cottage still waiting for an owner.
“Susie was right.” You grumbled allowing Willie to help you sit up against the blue velvet couch. Your mussed hair adorable in the eyes of the guitarist utterly enamoured with everything about you.
“She usually is.” Rudy mused, thinking of the many times she had proven everyone wrong, “She punched me for not bringing you home.”
“Gotta love her.” You snorted turning to face the four ghosts awkwardly gazing around the room. It was barren of personality with the lack of inhabitants. The yearning quickly found in the boys’ eyes, “You know this isn’t the only cottage in need of people.”
“What do-“
“You’re welcome to live here. I know you three live in that studio, but here you can have a real bed. You can eat and having your own place. You can come and go as you please.” You offered without looking, Rudy.
“I don’-“
“If you don’t want to live here, it’s okay, but the option is always there. Willie, we make plans for a skatepark-“
“Oh, you had me from the start.” Willie beamed tugging you into his arms, “I missed this. I missed you.”
“Me too.” You murmured into his warm embrace equally relaxed at knowing he was safe again. Your eyes clashing with the soft blue had Ideas songwriting already filled with lyrics of a pretty girl wearing a jean jacket with patches.
The lyrics turned into songs both in the studio and the cottage that Luke, Reggie and Alex accepted in Elysium. It had been a spirited discussion with Julie on moving to Elysium, but the boys were always there when she wasn’t in school. Often Elysium hosted a concert for the residents with the visitation of Julie.
Your reciprocated attraction with the messy-haired hazel-eyed guitarist flourished into a serious relationship. Luke took on the role of teaching how to play the guitar and songwriting. Alex took of mediation while Reggie worked with Harvey.
Willie quickly took on designing the skatepark he taught at while also taking a position at the ghost school.
“Morning.” The soft whisper roused your sleep into the golden glow of the morning light and chirping birds.
The growling aspect of his voice coming from only just waking up. The sight of Luke’s bleary eyes was heartwarming.
A year into moving into Elysium, Luke had asked if you’d like to move in as he was the only one in the original house. Alex had moved into the little cottage with Willie three months into the relationship while Reggie was going back and forth between Susie’s room and his own place.
“Morning.” You hummed leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
“You know I thought my life ended when I died. That I could never find someone and have a family. That I couldn’t share my music with the world. I was wrong.” Luke murmured as he cupped your cheek in his hand, “The band is growing more and more each day. I found the love of my life, and we have a family with everyone. I haven’t felt like I had had home for so long, but I get it now. You’re my home. I love you.”
Your cheeks warmed up at the adoration Luke displayed in his expressive hazel green gaze just as it had since day one. The awe fell from his lips before you pressed a kiss to his lips, only one of the many in the eons to come.
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Forget Me Not (Part 12/15)
Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader
Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.
Words: 4.7k
Warnings: Angst, language
A/N: Kinda nervous posting again since it’s been a while, but we’re winding down to the end of this story with only three more parts to go (2 chapters + an epilogue). As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy!
Part 11
Home.
You are home. It’s supposed to be home.
But it wasn’t. To you, it couldn’t be.
This place feels too far from home, too foreign. You had no memories of it, no recollection of the safety and security it offers. Not even the faintest remembrance of the laughter, smiles, and tears; the fondness and the sadness these four walls have witnessed over the years.
You can’t call it home. You don’t know where home is, and you’re not sure you have one anymore.
Not after leaving him behind.
It’s cold and dark when you first wake, sleep weighing heavily in your eyes. A pair of curtains block out the sun from filtering into the room, leaving you to wonder if you had slept through half the day. With a yawn, you stretch, the bed underneath creaking as your body fully rouses from yet another night of fitful slumber. Almost a month back in New York, and it doesn’t make sense to keep blaming your lack of energy on the time difference.
The ache is still ever-present. The pain caused by the void in your heart remains, sharply throbbing in your chest with its refusal to go away. Two heartbreaks, two betrayals, occurring five years apart, but it feels as though not much time has passed in-between.
It hurts to ponder about it, that evening when your seemingly perfect little world came crashing down. Hiding behind rose-tinted glasses, you were unknowingly tricked, fully caught up in a well-crafted illusion. His illusion. Love has blinded you to the sad reality, and in the end, it left you a shattered mess, a hollow shell of your former self.
You doubt you’ll ever be whole again.
Forcing yourself out from under the covers, you reach for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before scrolling through your notifications. Nothing was of interest to you, fortunately; you didn’t have the energy to respond to those you suddenly abandoned. Friends who cared about you but realized you were never close to them. Not in the way it used to be.
As you skimmed over the new texts and emails, you then came across his now unsaved number. The moment you stepped on the plane, you deleted his contact from your phone and blocked him. Yet the last messages he sent to you were still there and haven’t been read since, though you already knew what they could entail—
I’m sorry.
It was never my intention to hurt you.
Please give me another chance.
Let me fix this.
Just come back, Y/N. Come back home.
Home. There was that damn word again. You were beginning to loathe it, even more so knowing that whenever you think of home, you wind up thinking of him.
The last time you saw him was the morning after the storm. Booking a one-way ticket back to the east coast, you then spent the early hours packing as many clothes that would fit in a single suitcase. Tears had long since dried up, having none left as you headed down the stairs, ignoring the look he gave you from afar.
He was dressed in the outfit he had on the night prior; his hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and it was quite obvious he endured no sleep. Your resolve nearly crumbles as your gazes connect, bodies close enough that he could reach out the slightest bit, and he’d be holding your hand in the palm of his.
Fighting the urge, you didn’t cave in. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for it—for him.
No, never again.
As expected, he followed you out of the house, remaining quiet as he watched the cab driver load your luggage in the trunk. You paid him no attention when he approached the vehicle once you climbed in, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare. With nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, you decided it was best to leave California, not that you belonged there anyway.
It played out like a scene from a movie—the taxi pulling out of the driveway slowly as the raindrops started to fall. Hearing him call out your name, his voice cracking with each syllable, made you hesitate for a beat. Perhaps you could forgive him, you had thought in that split-second. Forgive and forget; let what happened in the past stay in the past.
But even if you did, the pain’s still there, and it was overpowering. This pain resulting from his deception had been too consuming, too unbearable to move on.
You told the driver to hurry as you couldn’t afford to miss your flight.
The atmosphere in the car was fraught with grim silence. As the house sequestered in the hills vanishes in the rearview mirror, you knew you were running away from it all. You couldn’t stand being here in LA, where every turn, every corner, and every street reminds you of a life that wasn’t truly yours.
As idyllic it once was, you wanted no part of it anymore. Instead, you sought for familiarity, the life you used to have, the one you could only remember.
What you thought was your real home.
Unable to hold it in any longer, you had broken down in the backseat, never feeling more alone than you did at that moment.
You wish you could forget, but it’s not that easy. It’s never easy. Memories of him linger in your mind, still tragically fresh as they haunt you day in and day out. Closing your eyes, you could see him wearing this smile that used to make your stomach flutter. You came to love his smile the same way you had loved him wholly.
Now? Seeing it was a stab to the heart—a reminder of how he took advantage of your condition, your vulnerability. Of every lie you were fed. That smile, the one you previously hoped to wake up to for the rest of your life, had been an act, a facade.
Everything had been a facade.
A sudden knock on the door startles you, and you clicked off the phone screen before announcing to whoever that they could come in. Your mother Nancy enters soon after, her face displaying concern when she realizes you had just woken up. She’s silent as she walks towards the window and then pushes the curtains aside, the sunlight outside immediately washing over the room.
Briefly, you squint to adjust to the brightness, a confirmation that it was past noon already—another wasted day.
“Hey, darling,” she speaks softly as she moves to sit on the mattress beside you. “How are you doing?”
There’s no point in lying, but as much as you greatly appreciated her caringness, you didn’t want to burden her with your problems. They were yours to deal with and yours alone.
“Better.” And that, you were. Just a week ago, you finally stopped crying yourself to sleep. “I might even go out tomorrow and look for a job. Can’t keep freeloading under your roof, right?”
You release a half-chuckle, a small attempt to lighten up the mood. It was comforting when your mother cracks a smile in response.
“Oh, hush. You’re always welcome to stay as long as you need to,” she assures, a loving warmth radiating from her tone.
Lips pressing together, you sense that she has another thing to address. “What’s wrong?”
Nancy pauses to take a breath, shoulders rising and falling. For some reason, you’re on edge, finding yourself bracing for what was to come.
“Have you spoken to Keanu lately?”
Upon hearing his name, you swallowed away the lump in your throat. After telling your parents what had transpired, it stirred up various emotions—mainly anger from your father, sorrow from your mom. Their hearts sank as you recounted the story, tears blurring your eyes that you couldn’t see their faces. It was a good thing, however; you probably wouldn’t have reached the end.
Since then, they’ve refrained from speaking of him and to him. He’s called the house on a few occasions but could never get past the automated answering machine. Pictures of the two of you hanging on the walls were taken down shortly after the revelation, and you were unsure of who had done it.
Your parents still couldn’t believe he was capable of such a thing. He had played them the same way you were, twisting the truth and omitting facts. Painting himself in a way that made them think allowing you to stay with him was the best decision when just months before he treated you as if you didn’t matter.
As if he didn’t love you.
“No.” Curt, you had nothing else to say.
“He’s a persistent one, I’ll tell you that. Left another message last night,” Nancy comments, feeling her stare as you fiddled with the hands in your lap. The next time she speaks, it’s slow and controlled. She’s careful with her words, wary of how you would react to what she has to say. “Hon, the last time you were here, you told me something. Something that I probably should have mentioned the day you woke up in the hospital.”
You tense, eyes flickering up to hers. “What is it?”
She sighs deeply, her smile fleeting and replaced by a taut frown. “I knew you and Keanu were having… problems. Not the full story, but enough that told me you’ve been unhappy for a while.”
“W-Why didn’t you bring this up then?”
“Because the second I saw him in your hospital room, I could see how much he loves you. How scared he was at the thought of nearly losing you—”
“Pfft, sure he was,” you scoff at the statement in disbelief. “What he did—you don’t do that to someone you love. You don’t lie to them, betray them. Hell, if you had given me a heads up earlier, then it would have saved me all this trouble.”
“Y/N—”
“Don’t you get it? He’s an actor. Of course, he’s good at playing pretend. Got us all believing that things were all sunshine and rainbows. He fucked up and fucked up even more by lying. I’ve always had a bad track record in relationships, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised.”
Tension hangs thickly in the air, an apology murmured at the end of a passing second. You didn’t mean to snap at your mother, to let the anger and betrayal consume you that you began taking it out on others although unwillingly.
But you were just too goddamn hurt. Every day, the memories are suffocating you despite constantly wishing and pleading for them to disappear. That life, the one you had with Keanu, no longer exists, and yet you were still holding onto the frayed remains of it, not ready to move on—to let go.
You grieve. You grieve and mourn for the recent past, the happiness and love you experienced in the time you were left unaware. Never have you felt so complete, so content, and much at ease. You had turned a blind eye to the signs, to the small inklings of doubt brewing inside because you thought that there was no way you could get something else as close to this.
Perhaps you were both to blame after all.
“I thought he was different,” you whisper, sorrow flowing from your words. “I thought he was the one. The man I’d settle down with, marry, and then maybe someday, be the father of my kids. We’d build an entire life together, a family, a future. The kind of life where I could look back on it fifty years from now when we’re old and gray and not regret a single thing.”
Feeling your mother’s hand come on top of yours with a light squeeze, you fought off the tears forcing their way from your eyes. You swore you would never shed a tear for Keanu ever again, but you are crumbling from within. The weak walls you put up are now tumbling down, leaving you even more vulnerable than before.
“I want to hate him. I want him to feel my pain and suffer through it, knowing that he’s the reason why. But I can’t. Somehow, I just can’t.”
“It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him,” Nancy adds solemnly, and you nod shakily. “You’re healing, dear. So far, all you’ve done is put on a bandaid, but it doesn’t mean the wound closes up immediately. It’ll burn, it’ll bleed, and it’ll ache, and right now, that’s what you’re feeling; the pain of a fresh open wound.”
“Make the pain stop,” you mumbled incoherently as you lean against your mom’s side, wet cheeks pressed to her shoulder. “It has to stop.”
“And it will,” she promises, listening to your soft and tired cries. “It’ll take time for the wound to heal, but eventually, it will. Until then, life continues, and you would have to as well. You don’t have to go all-in right away, but don’t let this heartbreak hinder you from living, sweetie. You’re strong, and I believe you will feel that same happiness again, in one form or another. But you won’t find it unless you go out and look for it.”
For the first time in what seemed like a while, you felt something other than loss and despair. It creeps into you slowly, half-expecting a cold, crushing weight to fall heavily on your chest rather than the warmth and light it is. But as quickly as it came, the sensation subsides, a wave of loneliness, emptiness filling the vacant space surrounding your heart.
A shuddering breath released, you then reflect upon what your mother said about time and how time heals all wounds. You wonder how much time is needed until you can finally break free from the remnants of the past and breathe again. Could be days, weeks, or even months more, but it’s right there, waiting for you on the horizon.
You may not have a place to call home, but what you do have is time.
---
Seconds turn into minutes; minutes turn into hours. The sun sets, the moon rises; bright, blues skies bleed into a fiery red before dimming to an inky darkness. The world spins on its axis as people wake, move, then sleep, and the cycle begins all over again.
Two weeks have come and gone, and life pushes onward. You could tell by the scenery outside where the season of fall has taken charge of the Northeast. Days are shorter, with nights stretching out longer as the year fades into winter. Time was flying by at a brisk pace. Very soon, a blanket of snow will cover the ground you walk on, reminding you to take a step back and admire the natural beauty of mid-November.
The crispness of the late afternoon air is refreshing as it fills your lungs, a welcome change from the hazy summer heat. Leaves that were once lively shades of green are now painted in deep hues of amber and burgundy, and they crunch beneath your boots with each leisure step down the earthy path. The nearby lake is as pristine as ever, sparkling freely underneath the rays of the ochre sun as it waits for the impending frost.
Wandering about outdoors for hours now, you were lost in your stream of thoughts. You honestly felt better, not entirely mended, but just enough that you can step out of the house and explore the quaint little town. A picturesque place, it was a perfect settlement for your retired parents where everyone knew everybody; their faces, names, the street they lived on. Boilding down to more personal details such as knowing the pets they owned, which book club they’re a part of, and any recent travels.
When the townsfolk saw you, you sensed the feeling of familiarity. Those you passed by in the streets waved at you, and though you couldn’t exactly recall your relationship with them, it made you smile. Recently, old friends and family in the area had begun reaching out after hearing you were back. You never gave them the full explanation, only revealing that things in California did not work out, and you figured it was best to leave.
Was it a permanent decision? Most likely. Life here is simpler, quieter. You enjoyed the peacefulness, favoring the calm atmosphere of this town much over the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. It gave you space to think, to focus, to breathe. To reacquaint with yourself, rebuild who you are as a person by taking this journey of self-discovery.
It’s the brand new start you desperately wanted, needed. An opportunity to find your place in this world without the past holding you back. Without the shadow of the woman you once were looming over you. And if your memories don’t ever return, which deep down, you hope they never would, you would be fine with it.
You were tired of being stuck searching pieces of the past. You had to live.
Trekking up the gravel road leading to your parents’ home, a black car sits on top of the hill, one that you did not recognize. Perplexed, you approached the house with hesitant steps, dragging your feet through the pile of dead and dry leaves. There was a moment of panic when you noticed a man sitting on the front porch steps, hands clasped on his knees as he hung his head low, a curtain of dark hair masking his identity.
But you don’t need to think twice, for you already know who it is.
“Keanu?”
His name slipping out of your mouth feels different now. Gone is the affectionate tone that it was usually spoken in. It held no meaning, void of any warmth or tenderness. Keanu, the name is bitter on your tongue, a poison that could cause you to spiral down yet again, and saying it out loud brought upon a rage that swirls through your veins.
How dare he show up here unannounced?
As you take your breaths, one… two… three... and out, Keanu straightens his posture and meets your stern glare. Slowly, he gets up, the expression on his face hard to read. But aside from that, he looked worse for wear. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and prominent, the beard on his chin was unruly and untamed. He appears gaunt and exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept a wink ever since you walked out of the door and out of his life.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re the first to break the thick silence, a testament of your bravery and strength of some sort. Brows furrowing and teeth gritting in anger, it contrasts with Keanu’s lax demeanor as he steps closer. “No, stay back. You have no right to be here right now.”
“Y/N, please...” He speaks calmly, each and every one of his movements measured. “I’m not here to fight—”
“I have nothing to say to you,” you seethed, shaking your head as you stormed past him and towards the door. Tears brew in your cloudy eyes, a sign of how much he still affected you. Seeing him again after all this time only proved that the wound he had inflicted bleeds to this day.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Keanu quickly trails from behind, his voice dripping with utter desperation. “Please, just… give me a chance to talk. All you have to do is listen, and I promise you won’t ever have to see me again.”
The seriousness in his timbre causes you to halt in your tracks. Swallowing dryly, you turn around, sad, tired eyes reaching his guilt-filled ones. Keanu stands before you with a face written in despair, making him barely recognizable. The way he’s staring at you as if he’s hopeless and in pure anguish is unsettling, and you almost pitied him for it.
“Y/N…” He pleads softly, defeatedly. “Hear me out, please.”
You wrestled between your options, half apathetic, half curious of what Keanu had to say. Unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, he mutely begs for you to relent, and if this is all it takes for him to leave you alone, leave you for good, then so be it.
“Ten minutes,” you muttered, low enough that he barely catches it at first. Crossing your arms against your chest, the gentle autumn wind rustling through the trees pierces the silent air as you observe Keanu staggering forward, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he begins, gazing at you with his searching brown eyes. “I-I know saying it a thousand times won’t make a difference, but I really am sorry. What I did before and after the accident was inexcusable and selfish. I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself that. Don’t expect you to do so, either. You probably hate my guts right now, and flying out here might be a mistake, but I needed to talk to you in person. To say goodbye one last time.”
Brushing his hair back, Keanu then pads over to the trunk of the car, and all you can do is wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long, but he makes two trips to unload two boxes, setting each of them down in the space separating you two. He instantly notices the confusion etched across your features, burying his hands in his coat pocket with an exhale.
“Are those—”
“All the things you left behind,” Keanu finishes feebly. “Thought you would want them back.”
Stunned, a mirthless chuckle escapes your throat. “You didn’t have to do this. Those aren’t my things anyway.”
“But they are—”
“They’re not mine,” you cut him off with a weary gaze. “Keanu, I’ve said this before; I’m not the woman you fell in love with. Not anymore. Look, throughout those months we spent together, I tried to fit into this life everyone told me I had. A life that’s far from what I was used to. God, it feels like a dream being her. So confident, happy, and successful. Waking up from the coma, of course, I would want that. I had just gotten out of a terrible relationship which left me broken and unworthy of anything and anyone. Then you showed me the love I thought I didn’t deserve, and it kept me from realizing that it was all too good to be true.”
Eyes faltering to the ground, your fingers fumbled with the hem of your sweater, ultimately distracting yourself from the tears threatening to fall. “The truth is, I didn’t know you. You were, are, a stranger to me. You had done things behind my back, hid details that would have been a deal-breaker, but you didn’t care. I’ve thought about it a lot lately; would I have stayed if you told me from the very beginning. I wasn’t sure if I was madder at you kissing someone else, knowing how much it would hurt me, or the fact that you lied to fix this—us.”
There is a moment of silence that weighs over everything. The wind stops blowing; the leaves are motionless. Time seems to slow around you and Keanu as he waits for your next words. Words that you are still searching for since you hadn’t prepared to voice those thoughts out loud. They all came rushing, flooding like a broken dam, too overwhelming to keep at bay.
“Which one is it?” Keanu probes delicately, equally afraid of which answer you’re going to give.
“Neither,” you revealed, surprisingly. “I’m angrier at myself for falling too fast; for being the naive little girl who let herself be fooled, who refused to listen to her instincts even though she knew they were usually right.”
You see Keanu open his mouth to speak, but you weren’t done. “I always believed this accident was a curse. It erased years worth of memories that, at this point, I’ll never get back. But now, I see the good that came out of it. Our fights, our arguments, they were all signs that our relationship was falling apart, but I couldn’t let go of it—of you. I held onto us thinking the bad will just phase out eventually when in reality, I couldn’t bear giving up on you and this life we shared.”
Another pause. “Huh, funny. Looking at it, the same thing happened all over again.”
With that said, you felt relieved, somewhat lighter. Despite previous inclinations, you didn’t shout or yell at Keanu. Nor did you discuss to the fullest extent of the suffering you’ve endured. Strangely, it was nearly therapeutic admitting all of that to him, to yourself. For months, you had been unable to let go and accept the truth, allowing fear and doubt to control your actions.
But that was then, and this is now.
And now, it was time for you to be free.
“Guess this is it,” Keanu sighs dejectedly. He didn’t come here to win you back, knowing there’s nothing that he could do or say to repair the damage. Like you, he’s letting go, letting this be the closure he needs, and you need as well. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “Guess this is goodbye.”
Before you could leave his sight to spare Keanu the awkwardness, he holds up a finger, signaling you to wait a second. Swiftly, he goes to retrieve something that’s lying on the front seat, something that you’ve spent countless hours flipping through. He then reluctantly passes it over to you, and you’re unsure what to do with it.
“Your pictures,” he points out, though you were already aware. “I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything by giving this, but this book is yours. Keep it, burn it, do whatever seems right to you. But I want you to know, to remember, that I did love you. I still do, and these photos are proof of it, even if you can’t bring yourself to believe that I’m telling the truth. You deserve love and to be loved, Y/N. More than anything in the universe. I fucked up my chance to be the one to tell you that every day, but it doesn’t mean the next person you fall for will.”
“Ke…” your voice suddenly breaks with emotion, uncertain of what to add after his statement. It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him, your mother’s earlier words echo in your mind, ringing true in your heart. Even after everything, a piece of you still loved Keanu, and saying goodbye to him more painful than you anticipated.
As you stand frozen, Keanu inches nearer until he’s by your feet, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your cheek. He strokes your face with a tender caress before tilting your chin upwards to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb along your lower lip gently. You allow him to have this moment, to hold you and study you for a final time, commit you to memory as this would be the last.
Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him press a soft kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it immediately spreading throughout your body before he slowly pulls away.
“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Keanu says, opening the driver’s side door of his rental. You look at each other once more and see the subtle, hopeful smile he shoots your way. “And don’t be afraid to love again.”
You watch as he starts driving away, opting to wait until the car is finally out of view before releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding.
In your hands is a keepsake of your memories. A collection of captured moments that you had cherished so dearly. But things are different now; mistakes were made, words were said, people have grown apart. You found no reason to linger in the past when there’s nothing left to salvage.
Nothing left to do but heal.
The warmth of Keanu’s kiss eventually disappears, the world around you unpausing, continuing as it was before. You stay standing in place, glancing back and forth between the book you clutched on tightly and the boxes laying on the ground.
Yet in the quietude, the wind still blows. The leaves still fall, and the earth still spins.
Time resumes, bit by bit; passing for life to move forward—
For you to move on.
Part 13
Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves @keandrews @greenmanalishi @feminine-machinegun @thehumanistsdiary @lilyette @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @breakthenight @allie1804-fan @partypoison00
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Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC | Chapter 7
Pairing: Loki x OFC
MASTERLIST IS HERE
Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him. He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim. An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond. Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.
After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds. But it doesn’t mean he has to like it. A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love. Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life. A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them. Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.
This Chapter: Loki will do whatever it takes to find out what is wrong with Alexis.
Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex
Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.
-
Alexis groaned as the medics lifted her onto the gurney, but she didn’t wake.
“Take care with her!” Loki snapped at them, rushing to Alexis’s side, grabbing her limp hand. “She is pregnant.”
The medics shared a glare fully prepared to inform him they knew how to do their job when Tony caught their eye and waved them off. Best not to make Loki any more angry than he was. At least not until they sorted Alexis.
“Of course, sir.” The taller of the two nodded at Loki. “We are heading down Dr. Cho. I assume you are riding down with us?”
Loki nodded and followed them to the elevator. The eyes of every Avengers followed the three of them along with the gurney and willed the elevator doors to ding close. The moment the doors closed, Tony spun around to face the room.
“Okay, everyone has exactly three seconds to explain WHAT THE HELL is going on?”
The room exploded into conversation as people pointed fingers and yelled accusations and theories. Steve, Tony and Bruce cornered Thor to pump him for the “full story.” Nat sat quietly off to the side, worried about Alexis. A loud whistle cut through the din. Everyone turned to face Clint.
“They’re in a relationship.” He stated with no facial expression.
Tony blinked at him. “Well, yeah, a weird baby daddy, cohabitating thing. We all—”
“No, I mean they are in a romantic relationship. They are sleeping together. If you ask me, they’re in love with each other.” Clint huffed. He stepped forward to come toe to toe with Tony. “They know about you and Banner’s bet.”
Bruce blushed and flailed. “There’s no bet. I don’t know what you are talki—”
“When are you going to learn? I hear everything that goes on around here?!” Clint slammed his hand against the sofa. “I was in the vent when you made the bet. We decided to teach the two of you a lesson.”
Tony cocked an eyebrow. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“Me, Loki, and Alexis. They pretended like they were on the outs, breaking up to get even with you two meddling.” Clint crossed his arms.
“So is this fainting spell just part of an elaborate prank to get back at Tony and Bruce?” Steve piped up. “I should have done Loki would pull some sort of shit like that.”
“It’s no joke.” Thor finally joined the conversation. “I know my brother better than any of you. That was genuine fear in Loki’s eyes. Whatever is ailing Lady Alexis is no prank.”
Everyone stared at Thor in shock, confusion, and anxiety. Nat snapped out of her daze.
“I’m going down there.” She stomped off towards the elevator. Clint caught her elbow.
“Nat. Give them space. Give him space.”
Her mouth fell open. “But I can…” she protested.
“No, you can’t. There is nothing you can do down there but be in the way.” Clint continued.
“JARVIS!” Tony yelled into the air. “Send hourly updates on Dr. Randall to all the Avengers.”
“Yes, sir.” The clipped British accent responded.
“Thanks, Tony.” Nat gave the group a small smile.
Tony’s own brain was running fast, but he kept his worries to himself. He clapped his hands together.
“Alright with that sorted, they get on with the day. The world isn’t going to save itself.”
With hesitant motions, the rest of the team moved along. Clint disappeared to wherever he disappeared to. Bruce headed with Tony to the labs while Nat and Steve headed to the training facilities to work off some excess energy. Thor headed off to his quarters, too concerned over his brother and Alexis to get much else done.
-
Dr. Cho relegated Loki to a hard plastic chair off to the side as she examined Alexis. Loki paced instead. He could see everything that was happening through the clear glass panels separating the examination room. Things did not appear to be going well by the expression on Dr. Cho’s face. Three hours later, Dr. Cho came out to update Loki.
“There is nothing physically wrong I can find with her, Loki.” Cho sighed.
“And the baby?” Loki wrung his hands.
“Strong heartbeat, moving around. Do you want to know the sex? I did an ultrasound.”
Loki’s brows rose. He hadn’t thought about knowing the sex of the baby. His eyes darted to Alexis’s lying on the hospital bed. Hooked up to tubes and machines, eyes closed. It was a punch to his gut.
“We haven’t discussed it. I will wait until she wakes up to decide, if that is alright with you.”
Helen nodded. “Of course, Loki. I am still waiting on a few lab results to come back, and then I am sending them off to a few specialists. I would suggest going back to your apartment where you can be more comfortable. I will make sure JARVIS alerts you of any changes in her condition.”
“If it is all the same, I will just stay here.” Loki widened his stance as if Dr. Cho would attempt to forcibly remove him from the medbay. If it were any other circumstances, she would point out the 180 turn of events since the last time Loki was here with Alexis.
“I can only offer you a hard plastic chair.” She gestured at the standard issue chairs throughout the rooms. “And strong coffee.”
Loki gave her a sad smile. “I have been in worse situations. With far less pleasant company.”
Dr. Cho smiled back and then nodded before walking away to analyze all of Alexis’s results. Loki pulled a chair close enough to Alexis’s bed to hold her hand and sat down as his fingers weaved in with hers.
“Please wake up, darling.” Loki pleaded. The only answer he got was the steady beep of the machines monitoring all of Alexis’s vitals.
-
“Brother…” Thor rocked Loki by the shoulder. Loki’s long frame crunched up on two hard plastic chairs. His arm tucked under his head to act as a pillow. Nothing about his posture looked comfortable. After several hours of no changes in Alexis’s condition, Loki dozed off.
“Brother… wake up.” Thor shook him more forcefully this time. Which rewarded him with Loki snatching his wrist with his quick reflexes.
“Must you continue to wake me, Brother? Leave me in peace.” Loki groaned as he unfolded himself, joints cracking and popping. “Why are you even here?”
“It’s almost midnight, Loki. You never came back. I came to check on you.”
Loki glanced out to the window to confirm that it was indeed the middle of the night. He gave Thor a wry smile. “Well, as you can see,” Loki gestured up and down his body. “I am alive and well, so leave me be.” He waved Thor away.
Thor sighed and spun a chair backwards to sit near Loki. “While you may be alive, you are clearly not well, Loki.” He spied his brother’s hand intertwined with Alexis’s. “Barton told us.”
Loki’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t lose her, Brother. I love her.” His voice hoarse and cracking. “And our child…” Loki’s head dropped to the bed.
Thor reached over to comfort Loki, not knowing exactly what to say. “Lady Alexis is strong. How else could she have endured all these weeks living with you?”
The two gods chuckled at Thor’s joke. “Very true. I have not been on my best behavior.” Loki added.
“And now?” Thor raised an eyebrow.
“I have definitely not been on my best behavior.” Loki smirked.
“You were always one for mischief when it came to your lovers.”
Loki’s mood darkened, thinking back to Sigrun and his father. And the events leading him here. Alexis and his unborn child. He wondered where he would have ended up if he had agreed to the arranged marriage and Odin’s meddling. Loki imagined miserable in a completely different way than he was now.
“You were right, Brother.”
Thor’s brow furrowed. “About what?”
Loki gave another thin smile. “About love being worth the trouble.”
Thor chuckled and smiled. “I have not always been the best at telling you, but I have only wanted the best for you. For you to be happy.”
“I am. I was. I am?” Loki questioned. “I don’t even know anymore.”
Thor stood and offered his hand. “Go upstairs, Loki. Eat and sleep in your bed. I will stay with Lady Alexis for the rest of the night.”
Loki’s eyes glistened with tears. “Thank you, Thor.”
The two embraced and Loki wearily rose and left the medbay to sleep and eat before the next day. Once he left, Thor settled his oversized body into one of the undersized chairs. He stared at Alexis’s still body, her breathing shallow and even. The only sound was the constant beeping of the machines.
“I imagine you to be some kind of witch.” Thor spoke to Alexis. “Because it would take powerful magic to tame the beast that is Loki’s heart.”
-
Three Weeks Later
Alexis was still in a coma, and Loki was no closer to any answers why.
“What do you mean there is nothing physically wrong with her?!” He bellowed at Dr. Cho. “She is in a coma!” Loki jabbed a finger at Alexis’s room.
Tony arranged to move her to a more private area of the medbay and set up a second small bed in the corner since Loki refused to leave. Meals appeared from thin air. Although he suspected Nat was to blame. Even Steve came down to offer what little comfort he could. Loki now stalked the floor. Tony moved all non-essential personnel to another part of the Tower after getting several HR complaints.
“I don’t know what else to tell you. Her vital signs are stable, as are the baby’s. She is just asleep. By all accounts, she should be awake.” Dr. Cho explained.
Loki flipped a table, sending his dinner flying around the room. Helen took several steps back.
“UNACCEPTABLE!” Loki screamed.
Alexis’s machines rang an alarm, and the screens flashed. Helen rushed to the machines while Loki grabbed Alexis’s hand.
“I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
“Shouldn’t you be apologizing to me?” Cho piped up while she checked some printouts.
“Apologies.” He said with an eye roll. “What happened?”
“Her vitals spiked and then dropped. Triggering the alarms.” Helen glanced over at him with a grim expression. “They are stabilizing.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed. “What else?”
Dr. Cho sighed. “They are stabilizing at lower levels. Whatever is keeping her unconscious seems to be for lack of a better word… draining her.”
Loki stormed out the medbay without another word.
-
Thor was just getting ready to relax for a meal in his apartment when Loki burst through the door without bothering to knock.
“Do you mind, Loki?” Thor rose to face his brother. “I am about to eat.”
“I need to go to Asgard.”
Thor stared at Loki. “I don’t think that is a…” Thor then realized what happened. “What is going on with Lady Alexis?”
Loki collapsed onto the back of the couch. “In simple terms, she is dying. And no one can help her here. She needs our healers. I need to go to Asgard.”
“You realize Father is in Asgard.”
Loki gazed up at him, his eyes rimmed with red and sunken in surrounded by dark circles.
“I am well aware of the implications of my return. But if you were in my place, if your love was slowly dying from the inside out, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to save her?”
Thor sighed. “We can leave within the hour. I will inform the rest of the team of our departure while you make arrangements for Alexis to travel.”
Loki nodded and Thor headed for the door. Loki grabbed his arm. “Thank you, Thor.”
Thor covered Loki’s hand with this own and squeezed. “I am sure the healers will be able to help.”
“I hope so.” Loki replied glumly. “Because I am out of options.”
-
They were greeted by not only Heimdall but Frigga as well when they stepped back onto Asgard.
“Loki!” Frigga rushed to his side. Alexis’s body slumped against his chest while Loki cradled her in his arms. She noticed the roundness of Alexis’s belly. “I see what the fuss is about now. Let us get her to the healers. We can catch up later. Thor, the Allfather requested your audience.”
Thor nodded and took off towards the palace as Loki and Frigga whisked Alexis to the healers.
-
Loki paced outside the doors of the healing chambers while Frigga sat with him, reading a book.
“You will wear the floor out.” she commented with a smirk.
“Just another thing for Odin to blame me for. The replacement of the palace floors.” Loki sneered.
Frigga ignored Loki and pressed on with other things. “She’s pretty. How did you meet?”
Loki spun around to face her. “Do you care? Does it matter?”
Frigga set her book down on the chair as she stood to face Loki. “It matters when she is carrying my grandchild.” Frigga reached up to cup Loki’s cheek. “It matters when she has also is carrying my son’s heart.”
Loki gazed at his mother with wet eyes. “I—”
The doors opened and Loki’s mask fell back into place.
“You can come in now.” The attendant announced. Loki pushed past her.
Alexis laid out on the stone slab. Three attendants hovered over her. One operated the Soul Forge while another took notes. A third injected something into Alexis’s arm.
“What are you giving her!? She is—”
“We are well aware of her condition.” The head healer spoke. “I must admit it stumped us at first. But once we calibrated the Soul Forge for Vanir physiology, it was clear what was going on.”
“Which is exactly what?” Loki blinked as his brain processed the rest of what was said. “Wait, Vanir?!”
Frigga’s eyes darted between her son and the healer, ready to step in if necessary. The healer, oblivious to what was going on, continued explaining.
“In the second trimester, Vanir babies’ magical abilities manifest, feeding off the mother’s energy. The injection masks the magic until birth. She will need to continue taking it once a week until she delivers.”
Loki stumbled backwards. “Will she—”
“Recover? There should be no lasting effects to her or the baby. Except maybe a wicked headache and increased appetite.”
Loki allowed a few tears to fall onto his cheeks. Frigga grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“Thank you.”
Frigga cleared her throat. “Perhaps we could have the room for a few moments?”
The attendants nodded. “Of course, my Queen.” Everyone shuffled out of the room with a rustle of fabric. Loki made no move until the heavy doors closed behind him with a thud. Loki collapsed against Frigga.
“I take from your response, you were unaware of Alexis’s lineage.”
Loki gulped. “She never mentioned it.” He kneeled besides Alexis, the color returned to her cheeks. “You are going to be fine, my love. We have much to discuss when you wake.” Alexis groaned. Loki kissed her cheek. “It’s time to wake up.”
Frigga smiled at the sight of her son so fully devoted to someone. And the prospect of a grandchild. Her first grandchild. She would be lying if she said Loki was her first guess of the son to give her a grandchild first.
Alexis’s eyes fluttered open. “Loki… where am I?”
Loki’s tears wetted her skin as he sobbed. “Home. My home.” He smiled at her. “I thought I had lost you.”
She blinked a few times to adjust to the light. “Home? The Tower?” She noticed they were in a massive room with stone walls. “Where are we?”
Loki helped her sit up. “On—”
The doors slammed open and Odin strolled in, followed closely by Thor. “—Asgard and you will be leaving presently.”
Loki stepped in front of Alexis. “She will do no such thing. She is sick.”
“She does not belong here, Loki. And neither do you.” Odin responded cooly.
Loki nodded. “Still as inflexible as always, Father.”
“Loki, this is your Father?” Alexis peeked from around him.
Odin’s eyes caught Alexis, and he froze, the blood draining from his face for a moment before the mask of indifference fell back into place. But Loki and Frigga caught it.
Loki narrowed his eyes. “Father, what have you done?”
#loki#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#loki imagine#loki angst#loki fluff#loki smut#loki xofc#destiny has other plans
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The New World; Series
Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!
Sonia x
Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.
Part 1 of ??
Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.
Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, some gore (hardly in this one) and merle being a bit of a dick as usual.
Words: 1428
Growing up a Grimes wasn’t always the best, especially being hot headed but having Rick as a brother made everything a lot easier. He was always able to calm you down, like he was the only one who knew how.
The day he got shot felt like a piece of your heart being ripped away, never to be replaced, never to be healed. That was the day your world ended.
When the world went to shit you were wishing he was there guiding your every move.
You scrambled through your one bedroom apartment, haphazardly shoving clothes into bags, anything and everything you thought you might need. Medicine, first aid kits, anything you could use as a weapon, anything to keep yourself alive. Ripping open the drawer near your front door you grabbed your keys and drove like you had nothing to lose. Racing through streets, running red lights, you watched as the world crumbled before you. People looting stores on one side of the street while on the other side the monsters ripped into the people you once new. Normalcy was now a memory. Normalcy was not normal anymore.
Swinging around a corner you barely put the car in park as you leapt out and barrelled into Lori’s house.
“Lori! Carl!” You yelled as loud as you could, your voice being drowned out by the sounds of sirens, helicopters and king county shattering around you.
“Lori! Where the fuck are you?” At this point you were screaming.
Carl came running around the corner throwing himself at you, tears in his eyes as you both fell to the floor hugging each other. Knowing he was safe was all you needed.
You held carl’s face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes.
“Where’s your mom?”
“She’s in the garage with Shane, packing all of our camping gear. I’m scared Y/N”
“I know you are baby but we will get through this. I promise.”
You got up and let go of the boy, racing into the garage and catching Lori’s eyes, she ran and embraced you.
“Thank God you’re okay” she said, still holding you tight.
“I don’t know what to do Lori. Everything is happening all at once, how will we get Rick through this, how will we get through this?” You rambled looking between Lori and Shane.
You watched as their expressions dropped, Shane’s eyes looking at the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. Lori’s eyes filled with tears as she grabbed your hands.
“Rick’s gone”
The words hit you like a freight train as you collapsed to the floor, your own knees not being able to take the weight of the words that she spoke.
“I went to the hospital to get him out, he wouldn’t wake up. I tried Y/N I tried.” Shane was explaining what happened in the hospital but the words washed over you, your brain refusing to comprehend the things he was saying.
————
All of this felt like years ago at this point. A distant memory. Rick was a distant memory.
You woke up in your tent as the morning light began to enter the space. Sounds of people chatting quietly outside filled the air as you forced yourself off the ground, pulling on your black jeans, a grey t-shirt and your boots. Looping your belt around your waist and making sure your knife was easily accessible.
You fumbled around with the zipper of your tent still half asleep, stumbling out and greeting everyone with a small smile.
“There she is” Dale said with a charming smirk, “any longer and we would have sent Carl to come and jump on you.”
You chuckled at the remark, “It’s like 6 o’clock, calm down old man” you retorted, earning a hearty laugh from Dale.
You made your way over to Lori to see if she needed any help with breakfast but she and carol had it under control. “Smells great, you making your famous Sunday pancakes, Lori? Don’t forget to actually mix the batter” You said, obvious sarcasm in your tone.
She pushed your arm playfully as you reminisced the many clumps of flour you had eaten in the past, forcing a smile every time with a fake compliment “they’re greeaatt”
You sauntered over to T-Dogg who was sitting on top of the RV keeping watch.
“Mornin’ Y/N”
“Hey T”
You made it half way up the ladder before you were halted by an unfortunately familiar voice.
“Now how the hell did ya manage to squeeze that ass in those jeans, God damn.” The Southern drawl of the older Dixon brother had you fuming before you even turned around.
“Man don’t you ever shut up?” T-Dogg yelled from the top of the RV.
“What the hell d’ya say to me?” Merle retorted but before anything could get heated between the two of them you dropped off the ladder and made your way over to Merle.
“Keep it in your pants you redneck prick.” Your harsh tone really getting the message across as Merle put his hands up in surrender but still made it known that his eyes were on you the whole time you walked away.
Your best friend, Glenn made his way into the middle of the group announcing that he wanted to make a run into the city to look for some supplies. He said the last time he went in, he found a department store that had everything from clothes to food and looked as though it wasn’t overrun or burnt down. A few of the group members volunteered to go including you but Shane was quick to shut that idea down.
“No way in hell am I letting you go into the city.”
“Last I checked, you’re not my babysitter, Shane.” You quickly responded
He shot you a glance and you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t worth the argument, plus, after you had volunteered, Merle did too and you did not want to deal with that headache for however long the run took.
Within an hour, Glenn and the others were packed and ready to go into the city. Glenn came over to you and you pulled him into a tight hug.
“Don’t get eaten, please.”
He chuckled and let go of you, nodding. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
“No promises” you smiled and waved as he and the rest headed off towards the city.
You looked to your left and saw the younger Dixon brother watching as his brother went off on yet another run. You could see worry in his eyes but you knew he would never show it properly. He’d probably be called a pussy by Merle for showing the slightest ounce of care towards anything. You didn’t realise you had been staring until you heard his voice.
“What the hell r’ya lookin’ at?” His words came across with more anger than he had intended
You blinked quickly and looked away. Your cheeks flushing a slight shade of pink as you struggled for words. Something about this man made your mouth run dry and your stomach flip.
“N-Nothing, sorry.” You quickly walked off but Daryl’s eyes remained trained on you, squinting as you walked towards the sunlight but still remaining focussed on you. He couldn’t figure you out. You were so harsh towards his brother, so easily set off by the slightest thing. If someone said the wrong thing you would mercilessly attack them with words and yet with him, you could hardly speak. You couldn’t be around him for more than 5 minutes.
He thought about you for a while, he didn’t understand why you were on his mind but you were. You had never even held a conversation and yet the only thing he could think about was you. In a similar way, the only thing on your mind that night, was him.
You made your way to your tent stealing one last quick glance at Daryl who was making his way up the RV for night watch, he locked eyes with you for a second and you smiled, a small smile but enough to make daryl nod at you in return.
The simple gesture made your heart jump as you hastily pushed your way into your tent almost falling over.
Changing into your pyjamas the simple interaction played over in your head as you climbed into your sleeping bag and drifted to sleep.
Just like that, another day was over in this new world and another one was ready to begin.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon x you#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead fic#twd fic#daryl dixon x grimes reader#y/n grimes x daryl dixon#series#twd series#twd fic series#daryl dixon series#daryl dixon x reader series
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No Doubt in Us
Chapter Eight - Healing Day *written chapter below*
Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader
Masterlist | Prev | Next
Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.
a/n: Sorry for the late chapter I've been very busy
Send me an ask if you want to be put on the taglist for this series
Taglist:@my-summer-night @deputyjuyeon @juhaktheoneforme @sunqnew
Word Count: 1.7K
Chanhee was pushed through your front door by Kevin, followed by Jacob closing the door behind them. You stood in the center of the living room awkwardly as your friends got closer to you. Kevin and Jacob giving friendly greetings while you smile back at them in acknowledgment. You and Chanhee just eyed each other not sure where or how to start. Haknyeon waved Kevin and Jacob over and that was their cue to get out of there.
“Healing day! You two had something you wanted to say to each other, so we’ll give you some space,” Kevin says as he slaps Chanhee on his back and hurries to a Haknyeon winking at you in passing. Jacob taps the same place Kevin hit and nods at you as he passes. The three boys exit the house into the backyard. The inside is still visible which was perfect for Kevin to make sure nothing escalated into something worse. Now that they were outside they gave each other proper greetings, it had been a while since Kevin talked with Haknyeon face to face.
They caught up with Haknyeon, Jacob thought he seemed to be doing a lot better emotionally than he was before. They would see each other almost daily for dance class last week and Haknyeon always looked like his mind was somewhere else. Haknyeon was never good at hiding his emotions, although he always tried to seem energetic for the class, he was different. Jacob regretted not asking him about it, he thought it was something to do with you, he could only imagine how complicated things were at home, but he thought you guys would work something out. He didn’t expect that you weren’t seeing each other, he wondered if he asked about it, would the problem have been solved earlier.
Jacob asked Haknyeon if the two of you were good now. “Ah, I never said anything to anyone did I?”
“Yeah, we didn’t get an update after that. Spill the beans, bro.” Kevin dramatically states while quickly glancing through the glass door at you and Chanhee, checking body language.
“Sorry, the past couple of days have been a lot, but it’s good I think.”
“You think?” Jacob questions.
“Well I’m still technically her Fiance, but I’ve been demoted to the boyfriend title… uh wait we probably aren’t there yet, maybe just friend right now. But we are trying to date again.”
“You should be more hopeful, she mentioned something yesterday about you, but she didn’t tell me what happened. I’m going to get the truth from one of you.”
“Oh, nothing really happened, we just fell asleep,” Kevin squints his eyes at Haknyeon. “On the couch together…”
“Uh-huh, and why would that warrant any kind of reaction from y/n?” Haknyeon sighs, pulling out his phone from his pocket. Kevin and Jacob look at each other with a curious look. Haknyeon shows them the image that your father sent him yesterday. The two examined the picture of their friends essentially snuggling together on the couch with wide eyes.
“Wow,” was all Jacob could say.
“Putting the moves on her already. And who took that picture?” Kevin jokes and Haknyeon protests.
“I wasn’t trying to “put the moves on her”, we fell asleep and I guess that just happened. Her dad took the picture though, he sent it to me last night.” Kevin laughs at his answer while Haknyeon puts his phone away.
“And was that it?” Haknyeon stays silent, making the answer obvious.
“There’s more?!” Jacob exclaims, surprised by the fast progress between the two.
“Well, maybe I don’t really remember.” That was a lie. “I was half asleep when it happened. You should ask y/n instead.” Haknyeon nervously laughs trying to feign ignorance, but inside his head, he asks you for forgiveness.
“I’m in for a treat today,” Kevin says with a devilish smile, once again looking back to you and Chanhee, now hugging it out. He looks to Haknyeon, “Do you ever get jealous of Chanhee and y/n’s relationship?” Tilting his head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Haknyeon and Jacob turned to look at them, a smile plays on Haknyeon’s face when he sees that it’s going well.
“No, they’re just friends, more like siblings. There is nothing I should be jealous about. It’s different now though, I don’t have the privilege to love her in the way I did before. There are times I wish I could just hold her, but I shouldn’t, I can’t, not while she is still trying to figure everything out.” He had a miserable smile on his face looking at you.
“Okay, I didn’t ask that so you could make me sad.” Kevin and Jacob look at their friend with concern. “We gotta take you out some time soon, you’re too depressing, man.”
“Sorry? I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Don’t be sorry. I think things will change soon, she is bound to fall in love with you again.” Jacob says with conviction.
“You’re the third person to say that, maybe I should start believing that.” Jacob and Kevin both wrap their arms around Haknyeon giving him some reassurance and he thanks his friends. All of them jumped at the sound of the glass door opening.
“Am I interrupting something?” Chanhee says looking at the trio embracing and they laugh. You pop your head out from behind Chanhee, looking at your friends and Haknyeon laughing together. You didn’t realize it yet, but seeing him get along with your friends made him look a lot better in your eyes, you give him a little more of your trust.
“Glad to see everyone getting along,” you say, flashing a smile to them. “You guys can come back in.” Everyone walks back to the living room and Kevin asks everyone a question.
“Who’s hungry?” Everyone replies positively. “Perfect, then Haknyeon it’s your time to shine. Please go get some food.” Kevin then whispers in Haknyeon’s ear, that playfully evil smile on his face again, “I need to get the truth from someone.”
Haknyeon nods, knowing the interrogation to come. Their strange interaction had you and Chanhee curious about what was going on, while Jacob pretended like nothing was out of the ordinary. Kevin hands Haknyeon his keys any Haknyeon goes to get his wallet, saying goodbyes to everyone on his way out the door. Soon after he walks out the door, you get a text from, Haknyeon, saying, “I’m sorry.” You don’t understand his message but before you can text him back Kevin shouts.
“Interrogation time, Baby!” You and Chanhee are confused at Kevin’s sudden outburst. “Hope you didn’t think I forgot what you said last night. Spill the beans!” realizing what Kevin wanted to do, you faked ignorance.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Cause Haknyeon says you would remember what happened.” You understood why Haknyeon apologized and you look at Chanhee and Jacob for help. Chanhee lifts his hand signaling that he wasn’t going to do anything. Jacob looked away, truth be told he wanted to know what happened too.
“Ugh, fine.” Everyone sits around the coffee table. You quickly explain the event in as little detail as possible and all the boys are shocked by your actions.
“Okay…,” Kevin holds back his smile through his clasped hands. “So how are you feeling about all that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did your heart pound?”
“Did you find yourself hoping more happened after the fact?” Jacob added.
“Have your feelings changed at all?” Chanhee chipped in.
“Well...,” you hesitate with your answer. “Did my heart pound because I was excited or anxious? I don’t know. Did I want something more to happen? No, it’s too soon for that stuff. I think I feel comfortable around him for the most part.
“There are times where he slips up, but he really is prioritizing my comfort. He is funny and silly that’s a bonus…. Final verdict, he’s kinda cute.” The big reaction you were expecting didn’t come, the room was drowned in silence.
“I feel like I’ve traveled back in time.” Kevin wipes an imaginary tear away.
“Am I missing something?”
“You said something very similar back then.” You look to Jacob in surprise at his answer.
“But that was her opinion after their first date. Things seem to be moving along well.” Chanhee says with a smirk on his face. You are unsure how to process this information.
“I- can we move on? I don’t know what to think right now.” You ruffle your own hair letting out a sigh.
“Alright, we’ll stop,” Kevin reassures. “But it’s time for some fun! Bring that switch out, we’re playing Mario Kart. You light up at the idea, that had been one of the things Chanhee briefly mentioned back when he showed you around the house. You never played it cause all the games were designed to be multiplayer and you figured it wouldn’t be that fun playing by yourself.
Playing was fun despite coming in last most of the time. You weren’t the one to be bad at games, that spot was reserved for Chanhee. There was no other explanation for how abysmal you were doing except, this must be part of the stuff you forgot. You had no recollection of having this game system or game, so this experience was new to you. The quartet continued to play happily.
Kevin’s phone buzzed while they were picking a different track. It’s a message from Haknyeon, saying he has the food and asking if he can come in. Kevin gives him the affirmative and one minute later he opens the door, carrying two bags of food. The game paused and everyone welcomes him back. You all decided to take a little break from playing to eat.
Everyone crowds around the coffee table conversing while eating, to your relief nothing seemed out of place, even with Haknyeon there. You were too scared to tell your friends about your fear of drifting from them because of your amnesia. You felt like as a person you had regressed, everything you heard about how you were before the accident seemed like you had everything figured out while right now you were unsure about everything. Three years of personality development were completely gone, you wondered were you even the same person. Right now though, you felt like your worries were silly, with your friends enjoying yourselves together, you were content.
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cherry flavoured / chapter 3
Christmas. A time of celebration, joy, and cookie-induced food comas. Hazel Shaw needs this holiday season to be the best one yet, but a neighbour by the name of Harry Styles could completely destroy that ideal.
An enemies-to-lovers Christmas mini-fic about old mistakes, new prospects, and those cherry flavoured conversations you wish could be forgotten.
Written for the 1DFF discord server fic challenge.
read on wattpad / story page
(A/N: yes i know christmas was almost a month ago but i am terrible at keeping schedules!! anywho, just a short epilogue after this part!)
! TW: brief description of a seizure !
Friday, 25 December
Alcohol the night before Christmas is never a good idea if you want to have a good night sleep. Pair that with a boy who you once upon a time thought you could be in love with admitting to something relatively shocking, then you’re definitely not in for a good night sleep.
My alarm chirped happily at seven and I unhappily dragged myself out of my cocoon of comfort. I don’t think I had roused myself this early on Christmas morning since I was 10 years old, but I wanted today to be perfect. Normally, mum would take on the duties of preparing Christmas Day but I had insisted on her taking as much rest as she needed. It was my turn to take charge. I promptly forced all lingering thoughts about last night to the back of my mind and began to get on with the day.
Once downstairs I busied myself with arranging our presents under the tree, switching on the Christmas lights, and setting the table for our traditional Christmas breakfast. I grabbed the supplies I had stashed in the cupboard earlier and got to work on our breakfast gingerbread house.
I knew to many it would seem pretty silly that we indulge on something so sweet for breakfast, but it was our tradition. As a kid, I was always half excited to see the presents under the tree and half excited to see what gingerbread monstrosity my mum had created. Some notable mentions include the 30cm lighthouse she had somehow erected in 2005 and her infamous attempt at the Buckingham Palace in 2011. This year, we would have to do with a simple house though. Time constraints meant I had to use a simple store-bought kit.
It was just past half nine when I put the finishing touches on the gingerbread house and I finally called up to mum, telling her she was permitted to come downstairs to begin our festivities.
“Happy Christmas, mum!”
“Happy Christmas, Hazel.”
I immediately wrapped mum up in a hug once she had fully descended the stairs. Both of us held on a little longer than we normally would.
“This looks fantastic!” Mum beamed.
It was nothing compared to what mum used to do back in the day but I appreciated the sentiment. I pulled mum over to the sofa and we began exchanging gifts, both of us laughing at how we seemingly got all the gifts so perfect for once. After the wrapping paper had been stashed away, I proudly brought out my gingerbread creation. The roof was barely hanging on and I had to make extra icing in order to hold the walls up, but all in all it was a decent effort. Mum had the honours of smashing the whole thing apart and we both dug in, a full pot of tea accompanying our sweet escapade.
It was almost midday. We had packed the remains of the gingerbread house away before we made ourselves sick and we had both donned our garish Christmas jumpers. I had set mum up with some corny Christmas movie that was on Netflix whilst I busied myself with preparing our lunch. A typical roast dinner, but for lunch obviously.
“Are you feeling hungry yet? I think the food is pretty much ready,” I peered into the oven, the golden skin of the chicken confirming my suspicions. I gave the mashed potatoes on the stove another stir, making sure it wasn’t getting gluggy at the bottom.
“Mum?” I called over my shoulder again.
I turned around, finding her lack of response strange.
She was standing rigidly near the dining table, her right hand clasped over her mouth. Her gaze was fixed on the wall.
“Mum…” I felt my heart leap into my throat. I had seen this before. I dropped the wooden spoon I was holding and immediately walked over to her.
In the six steps it took for me to get to her, it all happened. The glass I didn’t even realise she was holding fell from her left hand and shattered. She crumpled and fell, knees collapsing beneath her. That guttural groan I had hoped I would never have to hear again. Eyes rolling. Jaw locked. Shaking. Jerking. She was having a seizure.
I dropped to my knees beside her, rolling her onto her side as best as I could. I checked her airway like the paramedic had shown me last time. It was clear thankfully. With surprisingly steady hands, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and dialled 999.
It didn’t even feel like it was me speaking. A voice so even and calm couldn’t possibly be coming out of my mouth right now. I relayed the personal details with ease, told the lady on the other end of mum’s condition without a stutter over the big medical words. Who am I?
“Paramedics are on their way to you now. You’re doing a great job, love.”
I blinked. Mum had stopped shaking, but her eyes were still closed.
“They should be right outside love,” the call takers voice interjected.
I thanked her and hung up, mystified at how they had arrived in seconds. When I looked down at my phone screen I realised that the phone call had been going for more than five minutes. I blinked again. Blue flashing lights slicing through the living room blinds. A firm knock at the door.
I was walking underwater. My legs were not moving fast enough. I held my arms out as though I was about to lose balance. I made it to the door, let the paramedics in.
Now I was sitting on the sofa. Look at me. Take a breath. Tell me what happened. How long was she out? You did a great job. She’s going to be okay.
“Hazel?!”
I was pulled out of the water. My senses ignited, the scene before me truly unfolding. Two paramedics, one assessing mum and one crouched before me. I could hear a steady beeping, mum’s heart on the monitor I’m assuming. And Harry. He was standing in the doorway, eyes wide with horror. Anne and Gemma were behind him, with similar looks of panic. They were all wearing those crappy paper Christmas hats.
And it was as if that’s what tipped the scale. It was Christmas day. My mum just had a seizure. I burst into tears.
I launched myself off the sofa and towards Harry. He had already begun moving towards me so he caught me immediately. I sobbed horribly into his jumper, my chest heaving and throat almost instantly becoming raw as I let it out. I cried for Christmas Day being ruined. I cried for the pain my mum has had to endure. I cried for the fact that mum would most likely not be here this time next year. I cried for my mum being diagnosed with glioblastoma at the age of 52.
“You’re okay…” Harry continually whispered into the top of my head, his hand rubbing circles on my back. I clinged to him like he was the only thing to keep me afloat right now.
I wasn’t sure how long we had been embracing, but I eventually calmed down. I carefully pulled my head back from his chest, bringing my arms away from his waist to rub my eyes clear. He kept his arms locked around me though, like he wasn’t sure if I was ready to be let go. I was glad he kept them there.
“You’re bleeding,” he said worriedly.
“Oh…” I looked at my hands and realised he was right. I must’ve leant on the glass when I was beside mum. As soon as I realised the cuts were there, I felt the throb of pain. “I think… I might’ve gotten blood on your jumper…”
“Wha--” Harry spluttered, like he was lost for words. “I-- I do not give a fuck about that! Come here.” He pulled me back over to the sofa.
I took the moment to glance around the room. Anne was talking to the paramedic. Gemma was distributing glasses of water. And then there was Mum, sitting up on one of the dining table chairs. She looked so tired, but despite that, when I met her gaze she sent me a smile. It was the same look she gives me after every medical episode she’s had in the last year. It was her way of saying all was fine, no need to worry. What she didn’t realise was that all I had been for the past year was a pit of worry.
“Is it alright if you check to make sure there’s no glass in the cuts?” Harry’s gruff voice pulled me back in the moment.
“Of course,” the paramedic bobbed down in front of me and asked to see my hands.
Harry immediately took up the space beside me, his arm snaking around my waist once more. I leant into him almost automatically. I didn’t care that it felt so right to be like this with him. I didn’t care that he pressed his lips to the top of my head when the disinfectant the paramedic applied caused me to wince. I especially didn’t care that he kept me entwined with him even after the paramedic had finished tending to the cuts.
“We’re gonna take her upstairs,” the other paramedic addressed me a few minutes later. “Her vitals are good and we’ve given some pain relief for the headache she's sporting. Seeing as this isn’t her first seizure we don’t need to bring her in. But if anything changes in her condition, ring and we’ll come straight back.”
I nodded mutely and despite my protesting heart, I pulled myself up and out of Harry’s arms.
“It’s alright Hazel,” Anne jumped in quickly, “you stay there and I’ll show them where your mum’s room is.”
“No, it’s okay,” I finally found my voice. “You’ve done so much already, I don’t need to spoil your Christmas anymore.”
“Hazel… Don’t say that…”
“Please, go back to your Christmas lunch. I promise we’re okay now.”
I could tell Anne wanted to fight me on this but Gemma grabbed her mum’s hand and began leading her towards the door.
“Thank you…” I said quietly as they passed. Anne pulled me into a hug, whispering that I could call if I needed anything.
Harry stood from the sofa, his expression somewhat unreadable. As suddenly as I had felt at ease with him, it all slipped away and I felt the frostiness of our current relationship seep back in. I had broken down in front of and clutched onto the man that I had promised myself five years early that I would have nothing to do with anymore. How do you move past that?
“I… Uh-- Thank you, as well,” I said lamely.
It looked like he was about to say something in response, but instead he swallowed thickly. Clearly, the moments we had shared earlier have officially passed.
I motioned to the paramedics to assist bringing mum upstairs. I knew the Styles’ would be able to show themselves out. I tried not to wince each time mum took a laborious breath as she came up the stairs. However, I felt a strange lightness when they finally settled her in the bed.
I thanked the paramedics profusely, which they accepted graciously. They promised to close the front door behind them, urging me to stay with mum for a bit to make sure she’s comfortable.
“I’m so sorry Hazel,” mum spoke as soon as they left.
I went and sat beside her. “Please don’t apologise, you can’t control these things.”
“Yes, but I know how much effort you had put into today. You deserve to have a special day.” A soft but sad smile graced her features. I knew she was skirting around the big issue that we always tried to avoid. The impending end that her diagnosis was going to bring.
“We have lots of time for a special day,” I said quietly, bringing her hands into my own. “And even if we don’t… I am so thankful for the countless ones we’ve already had. Never feel guilty that you’re taking something away from me.”
Mum’s eyes turned glassy with emotion. She tugged on my hands, signalling that she needed a hug.
“Get some rest,” I spoke after pulling away a few seconds later. “Maybe we can still have some Christmas dinner if I can salvage the chicken.”
She laughed but agreed. I wanted to stay and watch her fall asleep - to be sure - but she assured me that she felt fine and told me to go. I begrudgingly agreed.
Carefully, I closed her bedroom door and walked gingerly back downstairs. I knew I needed to clean up the mess. And try and rustle up something edible for us.
“Is she alright?”
“Jesus Christ!” My heart almost leapt out of my chest at the unexpected sounding of a voice. Harry was standing in my kitchen, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you still doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay… And your mum. Is she?”
I was shocked that Harry hadn’t left. After what had happened earlier I was sure he would’ve wanted to put as much distance between us as possible. “Uh… yeah. She seems to be,” I managed to get out, “she’s just resting at the moment.”
“Good, good,” he said softly. I kept forgetting what it was like to have him talk to me like this, like we were before.
“You cleaned up,” I noticed that the shards of glass had been surreptitiously swept away and the floor wiped clean of any evidence of what had happened. I suddenly felt my throat tighten and that telltale pinch behind my eyes. Harry had literally held me together a mere hour earlier and yet this small act of kindness was sending me over the edge again. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this once more. I quickly walked over to the cupboard to grab a glass and filled it with water from the sink.
“Least I could do,” he replied, seemingly not noticing my change in demeanor. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t save your chicken. Mum made you both a plate though from our leftovers, I put them in the fridge. I can heat it up for you if you’re hungry now…”
He was being so nice. It felt so jarring. One day he was all eye rolls and words filled with venom, and the next he was offering to get me food. With the absence of my earlier heightened emotions, his sudden concern felt like he was trying to portray some act.
“I’m alright for now,” I finally spoke after a few beats of silence. I turned from the sink to face him again. His eyes held that look of pity - poor girl with a sick mum. I hated it.
“Okay then… Do you wanna just watch a movie then? Get your mind off things?”
It was like a switch had flipped in my mind. I had enough of fake niceties and acts of kindness formed out of pity. I slammed my glass down onto the counter, water sloshing out the side. “God, why are you here?” I said sourly.
“What? I told you, to make--”
“To make sure I’m okay, yeah, I heard that. But why do you even care?”
I watched Harry’s gaze harden. “You… Seriously? What is your problem? I’m trying to do the right thing.”
I clenched my hands into fists, my nails pressing deep into the palms of my hands. I was desperately trying to prevent myself from exploding at him. “Why? Cause you feel sorry for me?”
“No, of course not!”
“Then why do the right thing now? After all these years?”
Harry shook his head in disbelief and began to pace across the floor. He ran his hands through his hair. “You know, a thank you would be nice,” he spat after a few moments.
“A thank you? A thank you?” I could feel my face heating up, not in embarrassment but in anger. It was getting harder and harder to keep it together. “You should be thanking me!”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“For helping you to get back with your girlfriend.”
Harry stopped in his tracks and faced me, eyes wide in bewilderment. “Hazel, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” His frustration was palpable as he threw his hands up in the air. “I thought this was about your mum!? Or me apparently helping you too much today.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. I forced myself to take three deep breaths. I reopened my eyes to see Harry staring at me expectantly.
“It’s about the fact that we have barely spoken to each other for the past five years and now you expect us to sit on the sofa and watch some bloody movie?” I said in a surprisingly even tone.
“It’s not my fault we haven’t spoken in the last five years,” he replied icily.
“Excuse me…”
“I’m sure you remember the last summer before uni?” Harry crossed his arms across his chest, an eyebrow raised expectantly.
“How could I forget,” I said darkly. I could feel that my hands were shaking ever so slightly.
“So you remember that--” he swallowed thickly, “--that last night.”
I nodded mutely. This was the first time we had ever spoken of that night.
“So then you definitely must remember how you moved across the country the next day without saying goodbye to me and have ignored me since.”
My mouth fell open. That is not what happened. My body flushed as I tried to process what Harry was telling me. Memories of that night flooded back, it had been so long since I had allowed myself to think of them.
I remember the heat - we had been suffering through a heat wave all week. Someone from our form was having a final hurrah before we all went off to uni. Harry and I went together - as we always did - and we drank. A lot. Those god damn cherry vodka sours. As we stumbled home, he kissed me. I’ll never forget the look that clouded his eyes when he pulled away. And next thing I knew we were in his bed, all fervent mouths and quiet moans.
“You slept with me,” I spoke as I finally pulled out of my reverie, “and the very next day run right back into the arms of Lucy, who you told me you had ended things with…”
I watched as Harry’s eyebrows knitted together in what looked like confusion.
“All I was to you was a quick fuck to help sort out your feelings,” I said quietly. It had taken me a long time to accept the truth of Harry’s actions but admitting it outloud was almost harder. A tear suddenly slipped down my face. I hadn’t even felt myself well up.
“So yes,” I continued on when I realised Harry was just going to keep staring at me with a look of dumbfoundedness, “I did leave for London without saying goodbye. But I think I had a pretty good reason to.”
Harry continued to stare at me, his eyes wide. I waited a further few seconds, expectant of a response, but nothing came.
“I think you should leave,” I finally spoke.
He didn’t move.
“Fine then,” I stormed past him not even taking care when my shoulder careened into his own. Just as I was about to climb the stairs, I felt his hand around my wrist. He pulled me to a stop.
“I wasn’t talking to Lucy to get back with her. I was telling her… that she was right.” His voice was raspier than earlier.
I begrudgingly turned to face him, “Right about what?”
“She was the one who actually ended things…”
“What? You told me you did.”
“I know, I didn’t want you to know the real reason why she broke up with me.”
I raised an eyebrow, “And what was the real reason?”
Harry drew in a shuddering breath, “She thought… Well she insisted on the fact that I was actually in love with you.”
It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of lungs. My vision swam for a moment. I placed my left hand on the wall as though my legs were going to give way. “And… You went to tell her that she was right…”
“I thought maybe you felt the same, especially after… But with you leaving so suddenly, it made it pretty clear that I had come to the wrong conclusion.” Harry’s gaze shifted away from my own, he clearly was feeling uncomfortable.
His admission made me view the last five years in a new light. His actions did match those of a scorned lover. In fact, it matched my own.
“You weren’t wrong,” I breathed out. I reached forward, my hand landing on his chest. Even through his jumper I could feel his heart beating erratically.
He met my gaze once more and all I could see was that look - the one he held all those years ago.
Without another second of hesitation, our lips crashed together. My hands immediately found their way into Harry’s hair, fingers curling around the tendrils as though to keep us locked in this place for eternity. I felt Harry’s own hands dig into my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. Heart to heart as we should be - something I never thought would happen again. Something that I hadn’t realised I had been longing for all this time.
Against my better judgment, I pulled away. Harry gave a small noise of protest which I smiled at. “Wait…” I said whilst trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so easily when I saw you--”
“Don’t you dare apologise. We were both arses. I should’ve reached out, found out what was wrong.”
I captured his lips with my own again. “Agree to both be sorry then?” I spoke after pulling away.
He laughed softly, “Alright then.”
I rested my head against his chest, glad to have Harry’s arms around me. “I can’t believe we wasted five years…”
“Might’ve been for the better, you would not have enjoyed my long-haired phase in my second last year of uni.”
I looked up at him, both of our eyes crinkled with laughter. “And I suppose you wouldn’t have enjoyed me in my last year where I was determined to hit up every bar in London.”
I watched his expression drop ever so slightly. “Right, London.” He loosened his grip on me, pulling away. “I suppose you’re heading back there tomorrow?”
The reality of real life crashed down like a bucket of water had been tipped over me. How could I forget that Harry and I have crafted full lives in completely different cities.
“It’ll be hard to say goodbye to you knowing how we both feel now,” he said quietly.
I chewed my lip, “You know… I could extend my leave. Maybe until after New Years. I’m sure I could get some special considerations.”
Harry raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”
“We’re not fucking this up a second time.”
He grinned and wrapped me in his embrace once more, his lips making quick work to find my own.
“You know,” I pulled away.
His groan cut me off, “Stop bloody doing that.”
I shushed him with a laugh, “I was just going to say that in case my leave doesn’t get approved that we should make the most of the time we have left.” I looked fixedly over to the sofa.
“Fuck, I love the way you think.”
Without a second thought we tumbled over to the sofa, our legs becoming entangled, clothes discarded, and hands roaming - eager to find what had changed in the last five years. And as Harry peppered kisses down my torso and brought forth feelings so intense I hadn’t thought possible - I knew I wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Even if that meant quitting my job or moving halfway across a country.
Harry and I. This was it.
#1dff#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#one direction#one direction fanfiction#fanfiction#ao3feed#wattpad
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The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 7)
Summary: The final confrontation with the wicked White Warlock!
Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR
Content Warnings: More Remus being Remus. Violence and threats of violence. Someone slowly being covered in ice.
Word Count: 3,675
Read on AO3: here
“Huh,” Remus said, apparently lost for words (which was unusual in itself). “So now what?”
Janus blinked. “I'm not sure.”
“Which means you are sure, right?” Remus said with a great big wink.
Before Janus could explain for the umpteenth time that it wasn't that simple (and never had been), there came a loud growling sound from nearby, and something huge and brown came crashing out of the brush and charged them. Janus barely managed to dive out of the way of what he quickly realized was an entire bear. Remus, always a big believer in the principle that the best defense is a good offense, dodged it by leaping straight up, and used the momentum of his downward arc to add force to a massive swing of his morningstar. The blow knocked the beast off its feet, and it threw great arcs of snow into the air as it skidded to a stop.
“That was fun!” Remus declared, resting the weapon on his shoulder. “Hey, want me to skin it for you? A nice bearskin rug will keep you warm so you don't have to crawl under a rotting log to hibernate!”
Janus had no time to muse upon how accurately he had predicted Remus's behavior, because a motion at the corner of his eye told him that the bear was not totally out of play yet. It was made of far sterner stuff than the dwarf had been and had only been stunned by the blow, and was now shaking itself awake. But rather than lunging at them again, or even fleeing back into the trees, it hoisted itself into a sitting position, clutched at its head with its paws, and began to whimper.
“Oh, stop it!” Remus said petulantly. “You attacked us, remember? Roman calls me violent, but I would just like to point out that so far, 100% of the creatures from this winter wonderland of his have tried to kill us!”
Much to Janus's surprise (though perhaps it shouldn't have been), the bear pivoted on its rump and said: “I was only protecting Mr. Logan!”
Janus smiled...now this was a situation he could deal with. He stepped forward, made Remus silence himself just to be on the safe side, and said, “Why, we would never harm Logan! We're some of his closest friends, after all!”
Still rubbing its—his—head with one paw, the bear rolled around until it was standing on the other three. “Then sirs, you must be the help he sent for!”
“We are! We got his message! But alas, it seems we were too late to prevent this.” Janus gestured at the crystallized Logan.
“It's not your fault, sir,” said the bear. “I was supposed to protect him from the White Warlock. And now I've got to go back and tell the others what happened.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. But first, why don't you tell...” Janus trailed off, realizing the Remus—still silenced—was jumping up and down behind him and frantically waving his free hand. He released him. “Yes, what is it?”
“I know what this is!” Remus said gleefully. “Roman's gone and recreated the first Narnia book!”
“I never realized you were...into that sort of thing.”
“Are you kidding? With all the descriptions of war and violence and disturbing religious subtext? Not to mention a happy ending where everyone dies! What's not to love?”
“Even after all these years, you still retain the capacity to surprise me, Remus. However, I doubt the same aspects are what holds appeal for your brother, so try not to get too excited.” Janus turned back to the bear. “As I was saying, I think it might be a good idea for you to tell us what happened here. Who did this to Logan?”
“The White Warlock, of course, sir!”
“A warlock instead of a witch?” said Remus. “That's a new one...Roman usually loves fighting witches. He has this one recurring antagonist, the Dra—”
“Yes, Remus, we are all aware of the Dragon Witch.”
“Begging your pardon, sirs, but I think this Roman of yours is the White Warlock. That's the name the others called him back at the Stone Table.”
Remus did a spit-take. He hadn't been drinking anything, of course, but it was hardly beyond his capabilities (or his inclination) to generate something within his mouth entirely for the purpose of spitting it out. It looked like used motor oil. “Roman made himself the bad guy? That's definitely a new one!” He was grinning, but it was a rather fixed grin, and his eyes darted around under a furrowed brow.
“You said you were going back to the others,” Janus said to the bear. “Take us with you.”
Virgil, for once, felt genuinely useful: He had volunteered for the first watch of the night. Hushwing the Owl had shown him a tree he could climb from which he could scan the entire western and southern approach to the hill. It was a clear night and the moon was pretty close to full, and its light turned the snow into a stark bluish canvas against which any sort of moving shadow was plainly visible. Thus, as the ten o'clock hour approached and a large shuffling shape emerged from the trees to the west, Virgil looked not directly at it but at the silhouette it cast on the ground. It was definitely a bear and definitely had riders, one of whom was wearing a bowler hat. Good enough, even with the odd distortion of light and shade that seemed to sit between the forms of the two humans. He made the hooting call Hushwing had taught him which meant “Friendly approaching” and clambered down from his perch in order to go glower at Janus.
The climb took longer than he would have liked in the dark, and by the time he got back to the crown of the hill, the party had already arrived and was being greeted and offered blankets and a bit of warmed-over stew. Stoutpaws had apparently collapsed and fallen asleep right there on the hilltop...as Virgil supposed he would, after an entire day of running. Janus (ugh) was being helped over to the rebuilt campfire. And Logan...
Someone lunged at Virgil. Flight won, as it usually did, and he skittered backward several steps, only to realize that it was Patton he was flinching away from, and Patton was crying. “Shit...sorry...startled...” he mumbled, opening his arms and letting the Moral Side fling himself into them. He was shaking with sobs. “Patton...what happened?”
“R-R-Roman d-did something awful t-to Logan!”
The cluster of Narnians seeing to the arriving group parted. At first, Virgil couldn't tell what he was looking it—the object was translucent and oddly shaped, and moonlight and torchlight played over its surface and through its interior in ways that prevented him from focusing on its edges...until a chance flicker brought the details into clarity.
His head swimming, his thoughts useless, Virgil slipped from Patton's arms and dropped to his knees. He couldn't stop staring at it.
At Logan, frozen in crystal.
A murder . He was looking at a murder.
“Hell of a thing, isn't it?” said a screeching voice behind him. It was the sort of thing that ordinarily would provoke an instant reaction in Virgil (and that voice in particular would give a huge boost to Fight), but he was just too stunned. “As soon as Janus warms up enough that he's not going to drop off into a snake-coma, we'll all sit down and work out what to do about it. I can't wait to tell all of you my idea!”
Something in Virgil's brain finally lurched into motion, but all he could manage was a half-hearted glare back over his shoulder and a mumbled “What are you doing here?”
“Well, la-dee-dah, Panic-Depressive, I didn't know Thomas's Creativity needed permission to visit the Imagination.”
Virgil decided—to the extent that he was capable of deciding anything in the moment—that he could only cope with one atrocity at a time. He brushed Remus off and turned back to Patton. “Are you okay?” Patton shook his head emphatically. “Yeah, okay, dumb question.” In a way, Virgil was grateful for Remus's presence, since severe annoyance was usually a pretty strong barrier between himself and panic. “Let's...just...gather around the fire, so we can get our discussion going the instant De—Janus is up to it.”
They did. Janus sat on a boulder less than a yard from the fire, gazing rather glassily at it. The Narnians had given him a dark woolen cloak, and he had been engaged in an unsettlingly animalistic ritual: alternately spreading the cloth wide like wings, catching heat from the flames, and then wrapping it around himself to absorb the warmth. He glanced up, more or less, as the others approached. “So I assume you've all been made aware of the depths of depravity to which our dear Roman has sunk in his quest for...whatever it is he's questing for these days.”
“Roman's not depraved!” Patton said in a tone that suggested he had expected the accusation. He took his own seat across from Janus. “He's just...I don't know what exactly is going on with him right now, but he's not depraved!”
“Patton...” Virgil said, choosing to remain standing for the time being, “...he turned Logan into stone. There's no way to sugar-coat that.”
“It could have been an accident!”
“Patton...”
“It could have! He made a point of sparing Muricata's tree! I can't square that with the idea of him doing that to one of us on purpose!”
“Pat, listen. This?” Virgil mimicked the Logan-statue's outflung arm. “Is a defensive posture.” He started pacing. “Which means he saw it coming. Which means Roman telegraphed that he was going to do it, which means it was on purpose.”
Patton's eyes started to well up again. “I just wish I knew why,” he said.
“We'll be sure to ask him when he comes here to kill the rest of us in the morning,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “Who knows? He might even answer. The more important question is what to do about it. Can we change Logan back?”
“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! I have an idea!” said Remus, who had been watching the argument between Patton and Virgil with the glee of an obsessive tennis fan. “When he shows up tomorrow to kill us all, I sneak up behind him and clonk him on the head! Once he's knocked out, primary control of the Imagination will automatically pass to me! Then I can make this story go my way, and I guess you can hash out your issues with Roman afterward or whatever.”
There was dead silence for a moment. Then Janus shifted in his cloak. “Let's make that Plan...” He started counting silently on his fingers, and manifested a few more hands to get to the number he wanted. “X. Plan X.”
“Can we make it Plan Triple-X?” Remus said, waggling his eyebrows.
“If we reach that level of desperation, I'm sure we'll be happy to let you do just whatever you want,” said the Dishonest Side. “In the meantime...something less drastic first, perhaps?”
“Logan's original plan,” Virgil said cautiously, “was to let Roman catch sight of you, hoping that it would shock him out of this downward villainy spiral he's stuck in.”
Janus looked taken aback for a split second, almost like a micro-flinch. “Well...” he said after a beat, “...far be it from me to question the soundness of one of Logan's ideas...” He let the end of the sentence hang in the air like an icicle.
Remus lost interest in the conversation and began searching the area for things to put in the fire.
“If it makes you feel any better, Scales, I was against the whole thing,” said Virgil. “But you're here now, and it's not like we have any other ideas.”
“Well, as long as I have your vote of confidence I know we'll do just swimmingly.”
Remus dropped a pine cone on the fire and giggled as it ignited with a series of explosive pops.
“H-hey, guys,” Patton said with a slight quaver. “Stop sniping at each other. This isn't about you two. It's about...well, all of us, really.” He swallowed, and when he continued his voice was stronger, more authoritative. “It's about Roman, and because it's about him it's about our whole family. We have to cooperate. Now then, Janus, if you're skeptical of Logan's plan, why don't you tell us why so we can figure out something else?”
Janus did his very best impression of a deer in headlights for a moment. Then he recovered his composure, cleared his throat, and said “I may have been exaggerating. Am I correct in thinking that the idea is to show Roman his idea of a villain so he presumably stops trying to be one?”
“Something like that,” Virgil mumbled.
Emboldened, Remus stuck a twiggy branch in the fire until it lit up and waved it in the air like a pennant.
“That's hardly a kind view of me,” Janus continued, “but I've heard of worse stratagems. Might I suggest a few...refinements?”
“Guess we can't stop you.”
“Virgil, be nice! We'd love to get your input, Janus.”
“Thank you, Patton. Remus! Pay attention; this concerns you as well.”
Remus, who had been on the point of touching the burning branch to his own hair, tossed it aside and plunked down onto a log, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his face. “Fire away, Jay-jay!”
Janus took a medium-long look at the ensorceled Logan, and began.
Dawn came all too early and with it, the bellow of a war horn. Startled awake, the Sides lurched to pull on clothes and scrambled out of the hillside shelter to see what they were up against.
At their previous meeting, Roman had been accompanied by an entourage. This time...he had brought an army. Perhaps five thousand strong, they massed around the foot of the hill, blocking off any retreat except by air...and the presence of Dwarven archers among the ranks ensured that any creature attempting to escape via flight would fail as well. The good Narnians, outnumbered nearly two hundred to one, clustered at the crown of the hill, facing grimly outward and wondering when the charge would come. The Sides stayed near the middle of the group at first, protected and almost entirely screened from view.
Roman, almost too brilliant to look at in his snow-white suit and icy jewels, detached himself from his throng and marched up toward them. “Showtime,” Janus muttered.
“Yesterday,” the self-styled King of Narnia proclaimed, “we issued an ultimatum to this company here assembled. Now we return to hear your decision and respond to it. Do you or do you not swear fealty to the Crown of Narnia?”
The Narnians, per the plan, stood firm and did not speak.
“We asked for your reply!” Roman snarled. “Where are my fellows? Have they abandoned you?”
“No, we haven't!” Patton said. The Narnians stood aside to let him through, followed by Virgil...and Logan. “And we're not surrendering either! You've taken things way too far, Roman, and it is not okay!”
Roman said nothing, staring dumbfounded at Logan. “You seem surprised to see me in my current condition,” said the Logical Side. “Your enchantment wore off after what I have calculated to be two hours, forty-seven minutes, and eleven point three four seconds.”
“That's impossible!” Roman shouted. “The transformation is permanent until counteracted!”
“Perhaps your control over the Imagination is not as absolute as you have heretofore assumed. Patton believes...actually, I will allow him to explain. Patton?”
“It's because you're abandoning your calling, Roman! Thomas doesn't want a wicked Creativity! Hurting your own creations for the sake of a story is one thing, but hurting us? You're turning into something that Thomas would never allow to be in charge of his Imagination!”
“Yeah, and it's really throwing a wrench into my plans!” said Remus, suddenly springing out of the crowd to Roman's shock. “What are you doing , bro? You can't be the evil twin! Because then I have to be the good twin, and I can't go shaving my mustache now! I just got it the way I want it! I don't even know how to be good!”
“You—! What are you all playing at?” Roman said, backing away slightly. He leveled a scandalized finger at Remus. “Working with him ...this is exactly why...but never mind. You will surrender to me—all of you!—or none of these foolish creatures you have befriended will survive the day!”
“I know you don't mean that,” Patton said softly “You didn't even really kill the Dryad's tree yesterday. You want to be the hero, Roman. So be the hero . Take off that crown, put down the wand, and let's talk.”
Roman's face became pensive. He was considering...no, he was listening for something, and then he stepped forward again. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” he said. The wand swished through the air. The other Sides shouted in alarm, but no one turned to stone. Patton, however, wobbled, his feet literally frozen to the ground in a thick coating of ice.
The ice began to creep up his legs.
“Surrender,” Roman hissed. “Swear fealty to your King. Or watch him freeze.”
“Guys...” Virgil said.
Someone began to clap slowly, but the claps were muffled as if by gloves. Which was exactly the case. “Oh, bra-vo, Roman,” said Janus, dropping the Logan illusion. “You're finally doing for yourself. Using your power to take what you want. I couldn't be prouder.”
“You!” Roman gawked, even more appalled than he had been at Remus's presence. Then his face split in a grin of triumph. “Ha! I knew my enchantment hadn't worn off! Now will you yield to me, or stand by while Patton suffers a similar fate?”
“Yes!” Janus said with the merest hint of a hiss. “That's just the way! Show them all what you are capable of when slighted!”
“Shut up!” Roman said, and for the first time, his rapidly twitching expressions lighted on uncertainty . “Your input is not welcome here!”
“Clearly not; why I daresay you've supplanted me and Remus both with your villainy.”
“I said shut up!”
“Roman...” said Patton as the ice slithered up toward his hips, “...why are you doing this?”
“BECAUSE SOMEONE HAS TO!” Roman wailed. “Because you and Thomas lost all perspective...you invited him to the table...and all I wanted was a simple adventure where I knew who the bad guy was...and then it turned out to be me ! Even the Imagination started pushing me out of the hero role!”
“Pushing you!” Patton repeated. “So you don't want this!”
“And now you're even working with Remus! You'd rather have him on your side than...than...”
Remus made a loud scoffing noise. “Dream on, bro! For your information, I invited myself! They wouldn't have let me stick around if you weren't acting worse than me! Think about that , why don't you!”
“Roman, darling,” said Janus, approaching slowly with his hands up in a gesture of appeasement, “what makes you think anyone has to be the villain?”
“Every story needs a bad guy,” Roman insisted, backing away.
“That's not true,” said Patton, a mite breathlessly as the ice began to squeeze his chest. “What about all those stories where the conflict comes from misunderstanding? I think that's what's happening here. You're not understanding us or we're not understanding you or both.”
“Look, man, I get it,” Virgil offered, though his calm tone was belied by the constant reverberation of the Tempest Tongue. “I know what it feels like to think you have to be the bad guy. This is me, right? But we got over that, and we can get through this too. Take the enchantments off Patton and Logan and let's all figure it out together. You said yourself stories in the Imagination can take on a life of their own. That doesn't mean they're always telling the truth.”
“But, you know,” said Janus, examining his fingertips. “Your choice, Your Majesty.”
Roman looked from Virgil, to Patton (iced up to his neck) to Remus and Janus, to the whole of Narnia around them. His face twisted up into a terrifying snarl and he stalked forward once again. He raised his wand. Virgil put himself between Roman and Patton (not that there was much more that could be done to the Moral Side), but when he was only feet away from them, Roman suddenly flung his crown to the ground with a shrieking sob and brought the wand down on it. And in an instant, the wand was his sword (and always had been, they realized) and the blade struck the large diamond, shattering it into a thousand shards of ice.
Golden mist rose out of the splintered gem, coiling and flowing, and washed over Roman from his feet up. As it went, it dragged a second mist, bluish-silver, out of him as if plucking hairs by the roots. Roman cried out in pain as the power of the White Witch was scrubbed out of him by the power of Aslan. Both mists spun around each other until they reached a height of several yards, at which point there was a soft explosion and they rocketed away from each other. The Witch's power soared off in a northerly direction, while the Lion's made an arc and landed in the woods nearby.
The ice covering Patton fractured away, and he sagged in relief. “Roman...?” he said.
The Prince turned a plaintive look on him before collapsing to the snow.
#sanders sides#fanfiction#lamp/calm#platonic lamp/calm#dlampr#platonic dlampr#narnia#sympathetic janus#sympathetic remus#villainous roman
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Essential Avengers: Avengers #236: “I Want to Be an Avenger!”
October, 1983
Spider-Man -- An Avenger -- ?
Y’know, march of time and all that but this doesn’t seem as surprising as it once did.
Not much to say about this cover. It doesn’t have a lot to say about the issue other than ‘SPIDER-MAN INSIDE’ but boy does it say it.
But, oh, the logo changed and its snazzy! I quite like it!
So recent going-onses for the Avengers. Thor and Iron Man quit the team for personal business. Hawkeye broke his leg and is on medical forced-to-leave. Scarlet Witch and Vision were called in as reservists and Vision immediately got damaged by a crossover and has been in a robot-coma ever since. Starfox joined the team.
But in more positive news, they totally kicked the Wizard’s ass last issue and it cheered everyone up.
So the issue starts on a lazy summer day.
Scarlet Witch is on monitor duty, scanning for any ‘this looks like a job for the Avengers’ type calls. And multi-tasking by also thinking of her tubed husband.
Captain America takes his turn standing watch over the comatose synthezoid.
And for some reason, Cap leaning on the tube like that cracks me up.
Starfox spends his downtime trying to hit on Wasp.
His pickup line is so bad.
Wasp finds it charming in its misapprehension although it could also be the sexy beams Starfox emits from his brain.
And She-Hulk is taking a bath in a large barrel in the Avengers’ rec center, which they have. Maybe its the super hot bath?
She(-Hulk)’s also multi-tasking by looking up apartment listings while she soaks but finds that everything on the NY listings is either too small or too ritzy.
It be like that sometimes.
Jarvis comes into the rec center barrel bath area with iced tea for She-Hulk, trying to politely avert his eyes. But the intruder alarm goes off and she(-Hulk) tells Jarvis to hand her a towel and runs off to his flusterment.
Between Tigra and She-Hulk, I think poor Jarvis is getting overwhelmed with rad ladies on the Avengers.
The Avengers assemble in the main foyer and found that someone just barged in the front door and disabled the security tentacles with some sort of odd, artificial webbing.
Who could it be?
Who could possibly break into Avengers Mansion under the mistaken impression that its actually a cool way to impress them while asking for a job, showing that he’s learned nothing in years?
Could it be the person who expressed interest in joining in the previous issue? And who is also on the cover of this issue??
Yes.
Honestly, though, what an amazing splash page!
Also, spectacular and no-adjective.
Spider-Man knows how to make an impression.
Not a good one, certainly. But the Avengers aren’t going to forget the time he was casually chilling above the dining table.
And Pete isn’t going to forget it either. He’s going to wake up in a cold sweat years later still mortified at himself.
I also love it when the title of the issue is something someone said but since it has to be emphasized to make it clear its the title, they suddenly start yelling in the middle of a conversation.
She-Hulk has no patience for Spider-Man’s nonsense and grabs him off his web hammock to yell at him for barging in.
Spider-Man: “Well, I’m not exactly uninvited! Your buddy Thor asked me to join the club just a few months ago. Sure, I’m a little slow in replying, but I’ve had a busy season!”
And then he snarks about She-Hulk just wearing a towel because Spider-Man loves low hanging fruit.
SURELY, Spidey knows that offers usually expire, right? A few months ago is forever in comic time and Thor himself isn’t even on the Avengers right now.
I guess, in fairness, he has his reasons.
Besides his usual perpetual poverty liking the sound of a thousand bucks a week.
As he later muses to himself, Black Cat has been hospitalized because she tried to help him and he feels obligated to pay for her not-cheap medical bills. And he’s already quit grad school to spend more time earning but his freelance paychecks are nothing compared to an Avengers salary.
He’s being an incredibly presumptuous dick... but for a good cause.
And its just like Spidey that he has a good reason for being a jerk that he’d never mention leaving everyone to think he’s just a rude goofus.
What a shame.
Anyway, back at the present, Spider-Man asks where he enlists but Cap tells them that unfortunately their roster is full up. The sixth spot is being held open for Hawkeye when his leg stops being broken (and you think he was moany about being sidelined while his leg was broken, imagine him learning that he was replaced, eesh).
Cap does suggest that Spider-Man could join Starfox in the trainee program but Spidey throws a fit.
Spider-Man: “Trainee program?!? Hey, I’m Spider-Man, remember? I was sticking to walls when you guys were still looking for a clubhouse. I’m no green rookie!”
Starfox: “Green -- ? I take offense at your tone, Spider-Man!”
She-Hulk: “There’s nothing wrong with being green.”
Pffft.
As an actual rookie who is physically green, She-Hulk doesn’t care for that phrase, maybe.
She-Hulk and Starfox possibly beating up or more likely being embarrassed by Spider “will punk the entire X-Men in the not too distant future” Man is interrupted by a priority alert that goes ARROOOOOOOO
... Is it the Nixon alarm?
Why haven’t the Avengers fought Nixon’s head on a war mech yet??
Spider-Man offers to give them a hand if their priorities are being alerted but with this particular alarm, Wasp decides its best if they stick to the rules.
And then She-Hulk chases Spidey out by throwing a chair at him.
Spider-Man: Well, that was certainly a wash-out! Maybe I shouldn’t have come on as such a wise guy... Maybe I should have come to the door all humble and contrite. Nah, they wouldn’t have believed it was me!
.... Hah.
But he sees the third-floor of Avenger’s mansion opening up to launch the Quinjet and fount of good decision making that he is, he decides to jump onto the Quinjet as it launches.
Spider-Man: Whew! This baby is really starting to pick up speed! I feel like I’m in a wind tunnel. My sticky fingers can hold onto just about anything under normal circumstances... boy, I wish these were normal circumstances! I wonder if this was such a good idea.
No, Pete, it wasn’t.
But your inner monologues do add a bit more joy to this issue so I forgive you.
Inside the Quinjet, She-Hulk notes that the controls handled a bit sluggish right after take-off but eh whatever the problem disappeared after they went supersonic.
Huh. I wonder if Pete is ok.
Anyway, Captain America, She-Hulk, and Starfox are headed towards Project Pegasus.
Since it hasn’t come up in Avengers yet, Project Pegasus is a government research facility that seeks out new types and sources of energy. And Cap helped organize their security force back in Marvel Two-in-One #42.
The priority alert wasn’t the highest priority. Just a code-five, indicating a low-grade emergency. But it didn’t come with any details so Cap is vexed.
Three Avengers should be enough for a code-five but problems at Project Pegasus tend to balloon into worse problems.
You wouldn’t think a research facility would attract so much negative attention but as Cap points out, there’s a lot of people who have a vested interested in making sure energy stays scarce, expensive, and presumably non-renewable.
And considering that the oil companies like Roxxon are EVEN MORE BLATANTLY EVIL in the Marvel U, yeah, uh, bad shit is going to occur.
Also, Project Pegasus doubles as a place to jail supervillains so their powers can be studied.
So, yeah, Pegasus having a priority alert probably means a headache.
So these three Avengers are going in but Wasp and Scarlet Witch are on stand-by just in case.
The visit to the super secure research station goes off to a bad start when guards rush the Quinjet when it lands because a foreign object was detected on the undercarriage.
Of course it’s Spider-Man.
But before he can be arrested for breaking into a secure facility, his spider-sense buzzed.
It’d be a bit confusing if it wasn’t buzzing before though. He has a bunch of rattled guards pointing guns at him right after some unexplained emergency has happened.
That doesn’t set off the Peter Tingle at all??
Anyway, since the buzz is pretty intense, he figures that its warning him of something “a lot more dangerous than the lecture Cap’s going to give me!”
Hah!
He doesn’t manage to warn anyone before a tremor knocks (almost) everyone off their feet with a THROOM
Spider-Man is still standing because he loves Elton John forewarned is forewarned and he can stick to things. And to his surprise, Cap manages to stay on his feet.
Cap: “It’s just a matter of knowing how to react and how to brace yourself, Spider-Man.”
Hah!
That’s So Cap.
Spider-Man asks if he realio trulio can’t give Cap a hand with this situation. Y’know, since his spider-sense probably will come in handy. Cap isn’t sure because of the question of security but Spider-Man has an idea there.
See, he’s been here before!
In Marvel Team-Up Annual #5 he helped save the dang place! They can ask chief of security Wendell Vaughn (who is also known as Quasar but probably not to all the people in this scene?).
Unfortunately, Vaughn quit a couple months back. Oops.
But since Cap vouches for him the guard driving them to the lower levels is like ‘eh whatever.’
The power of a Cap vouch is not to be underestimate and never to be used for evil.
They’re headed to the thermal research dome because its the last known location of new security chief O’Brien. And where he sent the alert from. AND where the recent quake came from.
That’s good multitasking.
They reach the blast doors sealing off the entire level.
Because yes, not only did O’Brien send an alert, he also sealed off the entire level and now something’s jammed the lock.
They have no idea what could be locked behind there but they do have a Spider-Man and Starfox asks him if he’s getting a bad feeling about anything.
Spider-Man isn’t getting any bad vibes, deeming it safe to go inside.
Y’know, this is an amazing way to use Spider-Sense that they could do more with. I always love it when Spidey basically exploits the sense for things other than combat dodging.
Like when trying to figure out how to turn off a device he didn’t understand in Avengers EMH, he just went around almost yanking wires until he found one that didn’t set off the ‘OH MY GOD YOU’LL DEFINITELY EXPLODE IF YOU DO THAT’ buzz.
Anyway, it being probably safe, Cap tells She-Hulk and Starfox to open the door.
Which they do, with gusto.
And a GRU-U-UNNG
Inside the ruins of the thermal research dome, a bunch of semi-conscious technicians lie about in heaps.
Some Project Pegasus security personnel fan out to do administer first aid while the Avengers look for O’Brien.
Makes sense. The nameless extras help the nameless extras so we don’t go ‘hey are the Avengers dicks for only talking to people with names?’
O’Brien is pinned under an arc of steaming rock which Cap starts chipping in half with his shield while She-Hulk, Spider-Man, and Starfox - all people who could lift that rock - just stand and watch.
Or heck, maybe its not supposed to be a random rock arc. Maybe its attached to the floor. Still though, She-Hulk, Spider-Man, and Starfox could probably break it more easily than Cap does.
Teamwork makes the dream work, guys and She-Hulk.
Spider-Man recognizes O’Brien’s green and also green Not-Iron Man armor from newspapers and realizes that he’s the Guardsman.
That just makes O’Brien sad.
Guardsman: “Aye, I am... or I was. The state this armor’s in, no one’ll ever be callin’ himself the Guardsman again! As of now, I’m just plain Michael O’Brien.”
The Michael Formerly Known as Guardsman starts to Explain It All.
He had come down to the thermal dome to watch the thermal dome researchers sink a new magma tap.
But molten rock came shooting up from the tap hole, which is a thing that’s definitely not supposed to happen.
Oh, and some molten men (but not Molten Man) climbed out of the hole and started trashing the joint.
Plain Michael O’Brien realized pretty quickly that he was the only one who could stand up to these hot men so he signaled for help, hit the evacuation alarm, and sealed off the level from the rest of the project so the problem was contained.
And then he got mobbed by the hot men and got his ass kicked. Turns out that his armor was pretty useless against lava men.
Oh, yeah, Cap recognizes them as lava men from his description.
Spider-Man: “Lava men? You have to be kidding, Cap! Lava men? I don’t believe in lava men!”
Cap: “Belay that, mister! I’ve been up against lava men -- and they’re nothing to joke about! You’d better thank your stars that they left -- !”
You might also remember that Cap has been up against lava men allllllll the way back in Avengers #5. Technically the first adventure he had with the Avengers after officially joining them.
It was also the issue where Thor stoically sank into lava without changing his expression from his default vaguely annoyed one.
Anyway, O’Brien tells the Avengers that the lava men battered their way into the maintenance section since they couldn’t escape to the rest of the facility.
It’s a real good news bad news situation because there’s no one for them to hurt in there and also its a straight shot into the nuclear research dome.
And we don’t want any kind of meltdown there.
Cap decides that this looks like a job for AVENGERS to ASSEMBLE towards. And more than the three plus special guest star they already have.
MEANWHILE, over in New Orleans at an important meeting that definitely would be bad to interrupt, Monica Rambeau (secretly the Avenger known as Captain Marvel but not the dead guy version, true believers) is applying for a small business loan.
And then she gets a bzzt on her radio watch for an Avengers emergency.
Oh no, what of her small business loan!
And also: what small business is she starting? I think I heard at one point that she ran a fishing business with her father?
But what of her small business loan!
Well, Monica agrees with her bank guy Mr. Hillbee that its an alarm watch and that its reminding her of another pressing engagement so hey is there a lot more that they have to do here?
Luckily, all that’s left is for her to sign the documents.
Phew, I’m very used to superhero stuff interrupting a superhero’s civilian life and then them angsting about it. It’s actually a relief that Monica was able to finish up at the bank before dashing off to a phone booth to take a radio watch call with Scarlet Witch.
Wanda tells Monica that they just received a call from Cap(tain America) telling them to get to Project Pegasus. Wanda tells Monica that they’re in transit now and asks if she can join them.
And then the line goes dead before Wanda can give coordinates.
Because Monica just followed the radio signal back to the Quinjet.
She apologizes that it took her so long (!!) because she had to stop at home first to pick up her costume.
Wanda marvels captainly “And I thought my brother, Pietro, was fast!”
Ha ha amazing.
I love Captain Monica Marvel’s ridiculous powerset.
She’s even talking right into their radio so she can communicate from outside the Quinjet.
Wasp, Scarlet Witch, and Captain Marvel arrive at Project Pegasus where they’re briefed of the lava men situation by some of the security staff.
Captain Marvel nyooms ahead lightspeed dash style while Wasp and Scarlet Witch lag behind by taking a high-speed railcar.
Dang, Project Pegasus is big.
I just flipped ahead pages to see how long it takes Captain Marvel to join Cap(tain America)’s group and its a bit.
I guess maybe there’s some overlapped time going on though.
Meanwhile, two technicians in research dome D-2 (called the Compound for some dang reason) ignore all the various alarms and such that have been happening because they’re super into their project. And are possibly mad scientists.
They have the intensity.
But they’re working on... Dr. Croit’s stabilizer? And apparently its vibratory pitch was changed by the tremor that happened? Unbeknowst to them, Captain Marvel just nyoomed by outside and the proximity of her energy form activates the device and the silhouette of some guy leaps out proclaiming FREE!!
Back at the Avengers side of the plot, Cap(tain America)’s group has encountered some lava men.
Spider-Man: “Hey, Cap... I take it all back! I do believe in lava men! I really do!”
Hah.
The lava men are between the Avengers and the nuclear dome so Cap starts thinking of ways to flank them so they can keep them away from it.
She-Hulk starts trying to plow a hole through their forces and... uh.... ok. Cap has Starfox just fly around and annoy the lava men because they’ve never seen a flying man before and its just freaking them out.
Really.
Cap asks Spider-Man to use his webbing to throw up some barriers in the lava men’s path.
Spider-Man: “Heck, I can do better than that, Cappy! Just a couple spritzes of webbing, and these little hotheads won’t be going anywhere for hours!”
Cap: “No, you young fool! Don’t you see what you’ve done!”
Throwing web on the lava men makes them panic because it seems like there’s a lot of stuff that they’re not familiar with and all of it alarms them. When they’re alarmed, their body temperature raises and can get up thousands of degrees.
So they just melt loose of the webbing and now they’ve learned not to be afraid of the webbing at all and they can’t use it to corral them.
Spider-Man: “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
Cap: “It would help if you’d follow orders! The Avengers is a team! If you want to be part of the team, act like it! Otherwise, stay out of our way!”
Yeahhhhh. I mean, most of the time. You have your fair share of idiots doing their own thing in the Avengers because all of these guys have egos you wouldn’t believe. But generally they can agree to work as a team.
And Spider-Man, of this era, isn’t much of a team player. Not like Wolverine or Batman ‘i work best alone, bub’ type of not a team player where they’re lying about not being good at teamwork because they like being surly and dour because they think it makes them more interesting. But Spider-Man mostly works alone and is used to just doing whatever he thinks the best idea is. And he has the proportionate speed and reflexes of a spider so he can do whatever he thinks the best idea is way before you can tell him its a bad idea.
That’s why Spider-Man makes so many bad decisions, because he can make them faster than good sense can catch up [citation needed].
Anyway, as he is NOW, he’s not a good fit for the Avengers.
Then again, neither was Hawkeye and they let him join. Makes ya think.
Back over at surprise man out of a box lab, the surprise man was Blackout.
He looks like he’d be an electricity themed villain but apparently his element is darkness. Annd he debuted in Nova annnd this is his second appearance?
At the end of his debut story Nova #19, Blackout was apparently sucked into the Darkforce dimension, a fate that Dr. Croit’s stabilizer had been invented to prevent.
So I guesss.... the stabilizer’s settings were altered by an earthquake and then it was powered by ambient energy from Captain Marvel zipping past and it managed to stabilize Blackout, yanking him free of the Darkforce dimension?
I guess??
As far as villain returns go, its not the most ridiculous but it is a bit contrived.
Blackout has no idea where he is and rants about how he’ll level the place if that’s what it takes to find his way out and in a more acceptable contrivance, he happens to be passing Moonstone’s cell when he says this out loud to nobody in particular and she likes the cut of his jib.
Moonstone: “Sounds like you’re a man after my own heart!”
Moonstone tells Blackout that she’s been locked up here so Project Pegasus could study her powers and that they want to use her the way they would have used Blackout but hey what if they join forces and get some comeuppance.
Blackout: I don’t know if I should trust her... But something about her voice is so reassuring.
Yeah, that’s what we call a red flag, you dingus.
Are we back to the days where some dudes will just villain because a lady bats her eyes?
Anyway, the locking mechanism is too complicated to figure out so Blackout just squeezes it until it explodes.
Um. Okay.
-checks wiki-
The wiki says he’s only supposed to have normal human strength but Blackout himself claims that his body is a living generator of black star energies.
Which apparently means he can squeeze an electronic lock to death. I dunno.
Freed from her cell, Moonstone leads Blackout to what they can do next.
Meanwhile, the Avengers are still struggling with the lava men two levels below. And the fracas has reached the corridor to the nuclear dome. Its now or never but the numbers are too overwhelming even for She-Hulk.
Spider-Man manages to leap above the fray and get forgotten in the confusion but doesn’t find that he can do much. He tries webbing the door to the nuclear dome shut but the lava men don’t even bother opening it when they can melt through.
Hmmmmm not a good showing for a guest starring so far...
When the lava men succeed in melting through the door, a blinding light shines through and the lava men kneel down and start bowing to it.
Ohhhhhh, I get it! They’re not trying to cause a meltdown! They just want to worship nuclear light!
... No? I don’t got it? Okay.
The bright light is actually Captain Marvel who took a shortcut to the nuclear dome to reach the Avengers.
And the lava men are really enamored with her, proclaiming her the lady of light foretold in legends.
Captain Marvel just kinda rolls with this and asks them whats the deal with all the rampaging and destroying.
Lava man: “We did but strike back, radiant one! Our village, deep beneath the Earth, knew peace -- until the surface men bored into our midst with their machines. We could not allow this attack to go unanswered. We only used our powers to stop the invasion!”
Wait, isn’t this the plot of the Jetsons movie?
Cap(tain America) smoothly slides in, diplomatically, to announce that then the surface people beg forgiveness and that this has all been an unfortunate misunderstanding that he pledges shall be put right.
And like how Cap’s clout got Spider-Man into this story, Cap borrows Captain Marvel’s clout to back up his diplomacy roll, saying “The Lady-of-Light will tell you that I speak the truth!”
It’s a good thing that Monica wouldn’t go mad with power.
Also, Scarlet Witch and Wasp show up, while Spider-Man snarks that they “missed the end of the movie.”
But since we can’t have pat resolutions given the subplot that was happening while the Avengers were distracted elsewhere, in the Compound, it turns out that Blackout and Moonstone have freed Electro and Rhino. And Moonstone has a Big Evil Plan.
Blackout: “Pay them back? Yes... yes, we must. But how?”
Moonstone: “In the best way possible! We’re going to bring this place to its knees -- by seizing the nuclear research dome!”
But that’s where the Avengers are! Silly villains, you’ve double booked!
Also, I wonder if the universe cosmically influenced Moonstone to get two Spider-villains involved on the one day that Spider-Man was tagging along.
I also wonder what Moonstone is thinking. She’s the ‘know when to fold ‘em’ villain.
Hmmm... Putting Electro and Blackout side by side makes Blackout look like Electro’s grumpy younger brother.
All kinds of good decisions have been made!
Follow @essential-avengers for more thoughts on villain couture. Also like and reblog so I can feel like I did a good job.
#avengers#lava men#Spider Man#Captain America#She Hulk#Starfox#the Wasp#Scarlet Witch#Captain Marvel#Monica Rambeau#essential avengers#essential marvel liveblogging
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Seventh Day of Twelve - A Soundtrack to your Curious Mind
See below link for previous days drabbles
When it's a quiet day at home surely they couldn't get away with sneaking another gift under your nose.
. . . .
For a Monday morning it really didn't feel like one. First, you got to sleep in, second was that there actually wasn't a call in, nothing. It was sweet, the kind of morning where when you wake up with the feeling of being late for something and then realising you have nothing to worry about and roll back over. And that's exactly what you did. You didn't fall back asleep however, just laid there thinking over the past week, a smile curving your lips with the memory of each present.
The chocolates were amazing, the flowers were surprisingly wonderful, you'd never say no to free coffee or food. The gloves were sweet but necessary and the photo was special, the perfect addition to your desk. Everything was personally picked and picked especially for you. There was that warm and fuzzy feeling again.
You rolled out of bed with the feeling that it was finally the weekend. Putting on a pot of coffee to brew you wondered around the house. Taking in the morning rays mixed with the icey chill of the new layer of snow over night.
While the coffee was dripping you opened the front door to retrieve your paper. The wide grin appeared on your face once more as you found a small brown box lying on top of the morning News with an envelope attached. You ripped open the envelope to find a typed letter.
Dear y/n,
Here's a little something I thought you'd like. I hope your CD player still works.
Thinking about you,
Insert who you hope it is here.
You laughed at the last part. There was no hint to point you closer to the person you hoped it would be. Although one thought came to mind, this was hand delivered so it couldn't be Jack.
Your heart dropped a little at the thought.
You put the letter aside and looked at the gift inside. The CD was in a paper sleeve with hand written list of songs. It was a mix of everything from P!nk, Walk Me Home to Wonderwall by Oasis and a few you hadn't heard of before. It was an interesting mix, you hadn't gotten a mixed CD in we'll ever so this was a bit special. The handwriting on the sleeve didn't look familiar, you could pick Jack's handwriting up easily. It was cursive but messy, this was cursive but neat and less slanted than her's.
You sipped your morning coffee and had a piece of toast while examining the letter and CD more closely.
Later you found the CD player was tucked away in a cabinet along your hallway. You grabbed it out when a thought came to mind. You weren't quite sure why it hadn't earlier, which made you put on another pot of coffee to get the brain ticking quicker, but they knew you had a CD player. The last time you had it out was at your 90's themed birthday party. There was a lot of people from work there that night so now your options were a little more varied. Your mind, more like your heart, kept pointing out that one of those people was Jack. However Jack was in NOLA, was it such a crazy idea that she had gotten someone else in on the plan?
No, she wouldn't do all this.
You slipped the CD in and blasted the tunes while you did a few chores to get your mind off the mystery person. Music always helped getting the hard jobs done and the songs were really good. Some you hadn't heard in years.
It wasn't until around lunch time that you finally texted Jack.
- How's the food coma going? :P
You didn't have to wait too long.
- Almost comatosed but the case keeps distracting us. How's your day off? Got any new surprises?
- Sounds like you might be there for longer than you thought. It's good, got the chores done and dusted while bopping along to my new tunes that my secret Santa left me.
- Secret Santa hey? Thought you had a secret admirer.
If only. You kept that thought to yourself and the one question that you really wanted to ask her and went with...
- Trying not to get my hopes too high. Still can't figure out who it is.
The replies stopped, along with your heart but you got on with the rest of your day which consisted of nothing much more than checking your phone every other minute even though you turned the volume up. You popped on a movie while flicking through your phone.
Half way through the movie your phone started to vibrate and you got all excited thinking it was a certain blonde. It wasn't but you weren't complaining either.
"Hey Kase, what's up?" You smiled, pausing the movie and getting up for a drink of water.
"Jimmy and I are going for breakfast tomorrow and thought you might want to join. It's all good if you don't, being your day off an all." Her tone was chipper, you knew she was at work, she'd helped with the case on Saturday but got an early mark and had to come back in today to wrap everything up.
"Work or no work a woman's gotta eat."
You heard a chuckle through the line. "You sound like Bishop and Jimmy."
"He said a woman's gotta eat?"
"Something like that. Meet you at the Diner around 7?"
You held in the sigh of being up so early but agreed and said your goodbyes. It was early for a weekend for you but seeing two of your favourite people outside of work made it worth it. Taking your tall glass of water, you sat back down on the couch and continued the movie. The next vibration on your phone came through minutes later.
- Sorry, got a lead. If this pans out I might be home sooner than expected but don't get your hopes up. I still need to find Ellie a present that's allowed on the plane. Dwayne doesn't think I'll be allowed his gumbo.
You laughed at the thought of Jack trying to carry a bowl of gumbo onto a flight just for Ellie. If she could take it with her she probably would.
- That's exciting, my hopes are under control. I can only wish for one thing at a time right now. I'm sure Ellie will be happy with a candy bar from the airport.
Ellie would be happy with any sweet she got. You both knew that but you knew Jack wanted to get her something specific. Something she couldn't get in DC.
- That's understandable but it is Christmas time. Miracles do happen, looks like I'll be home in a day or two. Looking forward to seeing you...
You over thought the last sentence for too long and now felt weird about what you might send as a reply. You were looking forward to seeing her too but could you say that? You wanted to kick your brain for this.
- I like this kind of miracle. Hope everything goes to plan and I can see you at work in a few days. It's quiet without you.
Simple but had meaning if you read between the lines which you know Jack does.
The texting continued on into the night. She even sent you another picture of her dinner which only made your sad salad even more sad. You would definitely need to do some grocery shopping tomorrow but nothing you could cook would live up to anything Jack was eating down south.
. . .
This one didn't seem to flow as much as I liked but I have work early and wanted to get it up at the usual time.
Hopefully you all like it :)
#ncis#ncis fanfic#ncis christmas#ncis reader insert#ncis x reader#ncis 12 days of christmas#jack sloane#jack sloane x reader
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Never alone - Chapter Twenty Two - Soulmate AU
AO3
Previous - Here - Next
Master List
Alya apologized to Marinette and Damian the next day. Her apology to Marinette was genuine, but to Damian, it was mumbled and barely heard, but the youngest Wayne — known as Grayson to their classmates — didn’t say anything and gave her a pass.
The designer was happy that her boyfriend was willing to let this one slide, but she had a feeling that it would be the only time. If the reporter did something like that again, he probably would tear her a new one.
Alya had asked her if it was ok if Claude and she switched placed so she wouldn’t have to sit with Nino, as it was too awkward to do so. Selfishly, the Eurasian girl told her no. She enjoyed sitting next to Claude, and if Alya wanted to be friends with her ex-boyfriend in the future, it would be better that she didn’t let things be awkward for too long.
The journalist protested a little, but seeing that her friend wouldn’t change her mind — and because of the glare that Damian sent her way — she relented.
At the end of the week, Alya confided that it was a good thing that Marinette refused because while it was awkward, Nino and she talked things through and agreed that they wanted the other in their life. They decided that they would work things through and do their best to be friends.
The dark-haired girl was happy to hear that and apologized to her best friend for being selfish in the first place, but the bespectacled girl waved her off.
“You’re allowed to be selfish from time to time, you know? Plus it’s not a big deal, and it ended up helping us in the end. Not to mention, I was selfish first when I asked you to sit somewhere else so I could sit with Nino.”
They left it at that and while the Ladyblogger obviously hurt, she showed that she was willing to move on and be happy for her ex-boyfriend.
Meeting one’s soulmate was a happy moment, after all.
Working with Chloé was, surprisingly, pleasant.
Marinette remembered the Chloé from middle school, who made Sabrina do her homework for her and wouldn’t lift a finger and help them.
This Chloé was different. When they met, the blonde greeted her with a smile — a genuine one, not the smirks she was used to back in the days — and went to work immediately. She had a list of different topics they could work with that was in theme with what they picked, and even had some in common with her own.
They quickly agreed on a topic and, still having a lot of time ahead of them because they were so efficient, started doing their research.
They talked a little too, learning to know each other despite having been acquaintances for years now.
At the end of their study session, Marinette could say, and believe, that she and Chloé could be friends if they put enough effort into it.
Marinette lay on the bed next to Damian, exhausted but with a smile on her face, happy that this time, their… activities didn’t get interrupted.
At least, in the Wayne’s apartment, no one could barge in uninvited, and Dick respected them enough to knock and wait for an answer before coming in.
He didn’t want to see things that could scar him for life, he told them.
Marinette closed her eyes and smiled as Damian brought her closer to him, kissing the crown of her head. They were silent for a bit, enjoying each other’s presence when her soulmate cleared his throat.
“Have you seen Chat Noir since our last discussion?”
The blue-eyed girl pouted, not wanting to talk about business when they were relaxed like that, but knew that they had too.
Readjusting herself so she could see him better, her hand found its way on his chest and traced an invisible path.
“No, I haven’t,” she sighed, watching her hand move on his chest. “And I can’t seem to catch Adrien in school either. Max told me that he was in class, except when he has photo shoots scheduled, but when he’s there, he’s distant with everyone and keeps silent unless the teacher asks him a question.”
“It doesn’t look good,” the green-eyed boy — no, man — admitted, his hand rubbing circles on her back. “I hope he’s not going to turn on us.”
“I hope not,” Marinette breathed. “Did the voice correspond with Gabriel?”
The youngest Wayne nodded, and the French girl deflated.
“I see. So I was right all along. We could have stopped years ago.”
A hand on her chin forced her to look up into Damian’s eyes.
“Hey, now. It’s not your fault. You didn’t have any proof, and it’s not like you can barge in the man’s house without any evidence, hero or not. You didn’t have the means to look into it like we could. Don’t blame yourself,” he said and kiss her forehead to comfort her. “We’ll talk about a plan to take him down once we finally get hold of Agreste Son.”
Marinette chuckled at his unwillingness to call Adrien by his first name.
They stayed silent for a few minutes.
“So, you’re leaving at the beginning of May,” the fashion designer broke the silence, a sad smile on her lips.
“Yeah,” he breathed, cupping her jaw, “but I won’t be gone for long. I plan to go to University here, in Paris.”
The petite girl perked up. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but I still need to go back to take the tests and for graduation. And I need to make arrangements with my father since Robin won’t be there for a few years.”
“Graduation, huh?” she beamed, “It’s a pretty big deal in the US, right? With speeches and all the families, the students on the stage to receive their diploma and the gowns?!”
He chuckled. “Yeah, all that. How is graduation here?”
Marinette shrugged. “Eh, you know. We take the Baccalauréat, the, when we get the results, we go back to school, sign a paper and they give us our grades from the test and that’s it.”
Damian raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? I mean, I know we make a big deal out of it, but it seems anti-climatic.”
“I know, right?” she exclaimed, then looked at him. “What about prom?”
“It’s around the time of the test. I wasn’t planning to go.”
She gasped. “What? Why? It sounds amazing. In the movies and TV shows, there are always so many events, it makes me so envious.”
Damian frowned. “You don’t have a prom?”
Marinette shook her head. “No, we don’t. Some schools put a little something together, but not a lot. You know school is just that: school. No clubs, no sports teams, no big graduation, no prom. It’s boring.”
Damian smirked at her. “Well, I wasn’t planning to go to my prom, but now that I know that you won’t get to live it, I might just take you to mine.”
The black-haired girl laughed. “And how would we do that? You know I’m not supposed to use the Miraculous for personal reasons.”
“Not even just once?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Alright, maybe just once. But can you even take someone outside of school?”
He nodded. “I just have to fill in some paper.”
She smiled at him. That smile that she knows makes him weak. “Do you really mean it?”
“Of course.”
“Alright, then! I would be happy to go to prom with you!”
They kissed, long and deep, and started their earlier activities again, Marinette’s giggled filling the room.
It was after they got dressed and decided to watch a movie in the living room that Tikki appeared in front of them.
“Marinette, Chat Noir is trying to call you,” she said, looking serious.
Not waiting another moment, Marinette transformed and stood in front of the white wall so that she could have a neutral background.
“Hey, Chat. Haven’t seen you in a while,” she greeted him when she answered his call.
Chat looked so tired at the other end, it made her heart break at the sight.
“Ladybug. I need to talk to you. Alone, if possible.”
Ladybug could see Damian frown from the couch, not liking the demand.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
The cat-themed hero sighed. “I would rather not tell you over the phone. Meet me at our usual spot.”
With that, he hung up, not giving her a choice.
“You’re not going to let me go alone, right?”
Damian scoffed. “Of course not. I’ve texted Grayson. We’ll go with you but we’ll stay out of sight.”
Ladybug sighed. “Alright, then.”
For the first time in a long time, Ladybug’s instinct failed her. She had no idea what was waiting for her when she would meet with her partner.
Adrien hadn’t slept well in a week now. How could he, after what his father showed him?
His mother, his sweet, beautiful, and kind mother was in a coma, lying in a coffin of glass.
Just like Snow White. Except, here, a kiss from her husband won’t wake her up.
Apparently, the damaged Peacock Miraculous was what put her in a coma.
But why, in the first place, did she have the Miraculous? And what was she using it for?
But this was why his father became Hawkmoth. Why he wanted the Cat and Ladybug Miraculous. So he could make a wish and had his family whole again.
It was everything Adrien ever wanted.
But, was he ready to take the risk? Who knew who would pay the price for their selfish wish? What if Ladybug fell into a coma to make up for his mother’s awakening? What if something even bigger happened and not just once, but hundreds, thousands of people paid the price?
Adrien wouldn’t be able to live with that.
But… His mother.
His mother that he loved so, so much and that loved him back as much.
Tears slowly fell out of the model’s eyes as he put his Miraculous back on his finger for the first time since he took it off a week ago when he went to confront his father.
“Kid, what’s wrong?”
Adrien let out a sob and didn’t try to contain his tears.
“It’s him, Plagg. My father is Hawkmoth.”
The black Kwami has never looked so sad. Floating to him, he squeezed himself between his chosen’s neck and shoulder, silently bringing him comfort.
Only when Adrien cried himself dry did he break the silence.
“What are you going to do.”
The blonde’s face lost all trace of confusion and insecurity, leaving a determined boy.
“I know what to do. I need to contact Ladybug for that,” Plagg’s eyes widened in fear. “Plagg, claws out.”
When Ladybug arrived on their spot — the rooftop of a warehouse a little bit outside of the city, away from the prying eyes of curious civilians — Chat Noir was already there, humming a song to himself.
“Chat Noir?” she called, catching his attention.
Chat Noir turned around, smiling at Ladybug.
Well, if she could call that a smile. It was more a grimace, to be honest.
“Hi, Ladybug. Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.”
He stood up from the edge of the roof and made his way to her. Slowly, he took her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze.
“You and the birds were right, bug. Hawkmoth is Gabriel Agreste. But he’s not just that. He’s my father.”
Ladybug didn’t say anything, sensing that he wasn’t done. His hand squeezed hers a little harder, but she kept silent.
“He… He’s doing all that for my mother. To bring her back. She fell into a coma years ago and… And he’s taking desperate measures to bring our family back together,” he said, catching his breath. Ladybug could see him tear up.
“I… I want my family back together. I love my mother so much, you have no idea.”
She didn’t like where this was going.
“I want nothing more than having my family as a whole.”
The red-clothed hero took a step back, but Chat Noir’s hand brought her back closer to him.
“But,” he started, releasing her. “I’m not sure I could leave with the consequences of the wish,” he admitted.
And then, he took his ring off.
“I’m sorry, Plagg, Ladybug,” he said, crying silently as he petted Plagg for the last time. “But I can’t be Chat Noir anymore. I can’t promise that I wouldn’t turn on you one day. I’m too weak. So I’m giving you my Miraculous back, so I can’t give him the power he needs.”
He put the ring in her hand, closing it in a fist.
“And I know you will have to take him down. That I’ll have to live without my father. And it’s alright I understand. I forgive you, even if there is nothing to forgive, but I don’t want you to beat yourself over it. My father is a criminal, and he needs to face charges like every other criminal.”
She opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand, silently telling her to stay quiet.
“I’ve always imagined that we would take Hawkmoth down together. That we would then reveal our identity to each other. But then, I always imagined us to be soulmates, and we’re not. I… After that, I don’t want anything to do with the Miraculous. It’s what put my mother in a coma in the first place, and it gave my father the power to terrorize the city.”
He took a deep breath.
“It’s better that I never know your identity,” he smiled, wiping his tears.
This smile was real.
“This is goodbye, My Lady.”
She opened her mouth to protest but he put his hands on her mouth, not letting her say a word.
“Please, don’t speak. I’ve made up my mind. Nothing you could say would change anything. Don’t make this harder for me, please.”
She nodded and he stepped away, to the edge of the building where a ladder was for easy access to the roof.
“Goodbye, then.”
And he left.
Ladybug let a shaky breath out, not realizing what just happened. The ring in her hand seemed to weigh so much and to burn.
A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she turned around to see Robin, a grim look on his face. Without a word, he took her in his arms, letting her know that he was there for her.
The heroine wanted to cry. It has been so long since she allowed herself to feel strong emotions that weren’t positive.
But Hawkmoth could still take advantage of her, and she wouldn’t let him.
So she just hugged Robin tighter, nodding at Nightwing that stood behind the vigilante.
She would cry later.
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LiS2 Fanfiction recommendation list - updated
I updated the ff list I made a few months ago. As before, if anyone has any suggestions to add, I’m all ears. I divided the stories into three categories (Post-ending, AUs and Missing Moments) and all the ffs on this list are either completed or still actively updated.
POST-ENDING
Blood Brothers: To Puerto Lobos - And Beyond! by SerratedCucumber, in progress. It starts as the brothers break into Mexico and follows them as they try to build a life for themselves. I swear that I hear Gonzalo and Roman every time that Sean or Daniel say something: the dialogue is that good. 11,000 words for now.
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Lone Wolf: The One You Feed by zeldanerdster, in progress. This work follows the "Lone Wolf" path immediately after events unfold at the border. Following that, it will chronicle Daniel's experiences for as far as they take him in an effort to reconcile the various open-ended resolutions of Life is Strange 2. Because LW didn’t break our hearts enough. 20,500 words for now. Lone Superwolf by Dreamprism, in progress. The ff begins with Sean’s death at the border and aims to show how Daniel got from the car to the “six years later” scene. The fanfic is written from the perspective of Daniel Diaz, similar to how Sean shares his internal thoughts with the player throughout Life is Strange 2. 17,000 words for now.
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Parting Ways: After by koldtbold, one-shot. Sean gets to Mexico, Daniel doesn’t. Sean has a lot to do and think about. What I love about this story is that there’s much bitter and little sweet, but like in the game there’s an undercurrent of optimism, a feeling that tomorrow can still turn into a better day. 6,000 words. When There’s Nowhere Else to Run, by Autumnyte, in progress. It begins right after Daniel yeets himself from the car and follows Sean as he tries to build a life for himself in Puerto Lobos. I told Autumnyte that this story feels like a blanket: it’s warm and comfortable. No matter what issues Sean has to deal with, there is a pervasive undertone of "tomorrow will be better" that I think really captures the spirit of the game. He is done running, and he can now start to look to the future with hope. 31,000 words for now.
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Redemption:
The Bravest Wolf in the World by RoodAwakening, 2 chapters left. Ask anyone for reading suggestions, and they’ll inevitably point you to this story, for a reason. Sean finds out he can use his sketches to time-travel, much like Max did with her photos, prevents Esteban’s death, and has to deal with the consequences as he tries to navigate the new life he made for himself. Wonderful characters, a realistic depiction of trauma, and golden dialogue. I love this Sean, I love the people in his life, I love his interactions with all the characters. 160,000 words (!) for now. A Howl in the Night by Bracco, one-shot. Sean is in prison, and Daniel is free: it’s everything that Sean had wanted when he surrendered. That means he can be happy… right? 28,500 words. Tomorrow's Horizon by AlariOdonell, in progress. A mysterious stranger recruits a post-bay Max Caulfield with the promise to bring Chloe back to life and to right a few wrongs along the way, like those suffered by two brothers. I am very partial to this story because it ticks every box in my list of narrative kinks: a well-written OC, an incoming threat, superpowers, misfits teaming up, IC characters, action and fuzzy feelings... 52,000 words for now, updated bi-weekly. Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want by DarkJaden825698, one-shot. After his sentence, Sean reconnects with some old friends and says some things he didn't get to say when he had the chance. This story is a warm, fuzzy thing where everything goes well for a change. I may also be very partial to the title: that song is tied to some of my fondest memories, so extra points to the author. 4,000 words. Spirit Realm: Road to Redemption by Sombraguerrero, completed. Sean has served his sentence, abbreviated by a lack of success on the authorities' part to attain burden of proof on the supposed major crimes. The public has run out of patience and has allowed Sean and Daniel to try and pick up the pieces, with as much help as they can get along what is once again a rough road. 21,000 words. Stay Strange by DarkJaden825698, completed. Dr. Bright is assigned to Sean Diaz as his therapist in prison, and walks him through his trauma while trying to find him a lawyer to challenge his sentence. Crossover fic between LiS2 and The Bright Sessions podcast - you don’t know anything about the podcast? Me neither, and it’s not an issue. 32,000 words.
AUs
And All These Empty Streets by Riona, one-shot. After the apocalypse, Sean and Daniel have a run-in with Joel and Ellie from TLOU. I think that this is the story that made me realize how I love Sean and Daniel so much that I’m willing to read the weirdest AUs and crossovers so long. It flows really well and it feels natural. 2,000 words.
Riona has written a lot of stories that start from an unexpected premise and draw a little vignette. They are all different from each other and I loved them all. Check out her AO3 profile! Can you give me a hint by Idnis, completed. Teenage Daniel/Chris. If you like “mutual pining” and “dumb idiots in love”, this story will make your day. It’s just... fluffy and sweet and innocent, a tiny bit of teenage drama that Daniel and Chris deserve after everything they’ve been through. 22,500 words. Closer to the Heart by darkjaden825698, in progress. After the shooting, Sean waits for the police to arrive. He’s cleared of all charges and sent to live to Beaver Creek, where he must come to terms with what happened and rebuild a life for himself. A teen drama where nothing bad happens to the boys and they get to live normal lives? Hit me with it. 4,000 words. Double exposure by Riona, completed. It draws inspiration from *Your Name*: Max and Sean begin swapping bodies at random. If the premise doesn’t turn you away, it’s a beautiful bittersweet story about two people trying to help each other while their own worlds are falling apart. 11,000 words. Faithless by HollowK, in progress. Six years after the failed heist, Sean wakes up from his coma and has a brother to find. Exactly: oof. 6,500 words for now. I Took Both Roads, series by owlmug. AU where Esteban isn’t shot. Sean/Finn (with some Sean/Cassidy in the first story). It’s a coming of age story, and I really loved how the author mirrored some situations that are found in the game by giving them a new twist. I won’t lie, these stories hurt, because they made me think about what could have been. The characters are spot on, and the interactions of the Diaz family are golden. Bonus points for having Sean behave like a teenage brat at times, because the boy deserved to have temper tantrums and getting into fights with Esteban over stupid stuff. There are also a lot of beautiful images across the series, a lot of lines that feel raw and powerful, and a lot of healing. At times it’s like having a heart-to-heart with the author. Sometimes I felt that the sex scenes were too long, and some of them I found unnecessary, but that’s just my personal taste. I really liked all the four stories, but the last one is my favourite for sure because it follows Esteban’s point of view and it’s *chef’s kiss*.
1. A Way to Reappear (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096837), 18,000 words. Sean’s POV
2. A Piece of the Puzzle (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386670), 26,000 words. Sean’s POV
3. A Little left Behind (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852561), 24,000 words. Finn’s POV
4. (I’ve Been Going Through) a Change (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562086), 28,000 words. Esteban’s POV.
If I Lay Here by owlmug, completed. Diverges from canon after episode 3. Sean and Finn try to track Daniel down. Sean/Finn, 46,500 words. I can repeat here most of what I wrote for the earlier series: wonderful characterization, beautiful imagery, touching themes, characters that find themselves along the way. Something that makes you go “Please, sir, can I have some more?” at the end of every chapter. i just don’t know how i’m doing (i’m so curious about you) by Larrymurphycansteponme, one-shot. Another High School AU, another wonderful coming of age story for Sean. I wish I could make it justice without repeating everything I said about owlmug’s series: spot-on characterization, a beautiful narrative about growing up and finding one’s way, wonderful imagery. It’s the story of what Sean deserved to have, and one of my favorite ever. 28,000 words.
MISSING MOMENTS
A Night With Misty Mice by That_one_internet_lover, completed. It follows Sean and Lyla’s concert night that is mentioned in his phone chat in ep.1. It’s the first fanfiction I read after my endgame heartbreak: it gave me all the happy Sean I wanted, and even a bit more. The dynamic between him and Lyla is exactly what I pictured from their interactions in the game, put into words by someone who knows what they’re doing. 10,000 words. Astray by Riona, one-shot. Daniel leaves Sean behind after the events of Wastelands. It’s probably more of an AU than a Missing Moment, since it was written before Faith came out and so it’s not entirely canon-compliant, but it’s still a very good window on Daniel’s state of mind after the heist. I’m eternally grateful to Riona for filling some of the gaps that the game left in the development of these wonderful characters. 1,500 words. Fire and Floods by Riona, one-shot. Sean and Daniel go on the run, and this fic covers the first day of their journey. A spot-on dissection of Sean’s feelings after the shooting. 1,500 words. life is strange 2 poems by Spotsuns, an ongoing collection of one-shots. These stories have all the oooffness of the game. The stories in here hurt. In the good way, but they hurt nonetheless. Beautiful character studies, and some heavy-duty, post-ending feel unpacking. 11,000 words. Never Stop Shining by CorazonDesnudo, in progress. During his stay in Away, Sean receives a letter from Finn with an offer to help him and Daniel cross the border. It’s a chance to come to terms with a lot of things he didn’t really process before. 11,000 words for now. Torchbearers by Riona. Ep.1’s Sean and Daniel run into Max and Chloe among the ruins of Arcadia Bay. I can definitely see this story being a moment of quiet in the game. 2,600 words. What Remains of the Diaz Family by That_one_internet_lover, completed. Lyla sneaks into the Diaz household after the brothers have disappeared. Heartbreaking oofness ensues as Lyla walks through their memories and faces her own pain. 6500 words.
#life is strange 2#lis2#life is strange 2 fanfiction#lis fanfiction#sean diaz#daniel diaz#i'm terrible with tags
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The children were grateful for the autograph, they have it hanging by the ones they have of quidditch players, Nathaniel was insistent because you had “done the greatest deed in this mess”, keeping his favorite store open. Children’s priorities amaze me every day, Maeve was insistent this week that she share her toys with the house elf because Whimsy should get to have playtime too.
My eldest niece Maisie is 18, she was a Ravenclaw and has been immensely helpful in making sure the others educations don’t fall behind. She’s also been helping me go through and pack what remains of our extended families library collections, she’s even got one of the heaviest boxes marked for ones she wishes to read herself. It’s quite funny that for having such a strict analytical mind that she is an accomplished seer. I think her determination to understand and control her gift is actually what has allowed her to succeed. Nathaniel is her younger brother he’s turning 13 soon, he is a Gryffindor through and through, a rambunctious trouble maker who doesn’t always thinks things through but it ultimately loyal. Then comes the twins, Luna and Luca, they’re 9 now and both quite quiet. However Luna has an affinity for plant life and nature based magic, and well Luca is just a bit of a pyromaniac. Their brother Leo is the youngest in my care, only 18 months old. Then there’s Maeve, the animal lover who stayed at our hounds sides all week until we heard the news, she’s to turn 5 soon. I honestly sometimes wonder if she’s actually able to communicate with the different creatures she always seems to find, she says she can but children that young are known to imagine theses sorts of things, especially after trauma.
Maeve unfortunately saw my youngest sister and her husband die, they were in a bookstore that got attacked. Maisie and Nathaniels father, my older brother, was attempting to protect their home from looters, he finished mending the protective shields but used too much energy and had none left to heal his injuries, their mother died years prior. I’m not quite sure what happened to the twins and Leo's parents, their father was my little brother and sent them to me, away from most of the violence initially in our ancestors home, but I received notice of their death not long after they arrived. There’s also a good possibility my youngest uncles three children, two sons and a daughter (14 b, 11 b, 7 g) will be put in my care if he does not come out of his coma. His wife’s parents can handle them short term, but are much too old to care for them in the long run.
By chance is the Bagshot Park Estate available or perhaps Claremont House Estate? They are a bit large, but we need land for when accidents happen, which they’re bound to when learning the old magic. Mess up one step and anything can happen. Also, the hellhound needs space to roam, especially when his mate visits.
I’ve been informed to properly join I’ll need to go through trials. I was wondering if I would be able to know what this entails. Also, as the children in my care come first, I must insist that they be settled in to wherever we find our new home in England before taking on these trials. They’ve been through so much I simply must ensure that they feel safe in their new home before spending much more time away from them.
Thank you again for your time my lord,
I hope to make your acquaintance soon,
Iona McKinley
(Maeve has included a drawing of our hellhound and his mate. Maisie says this gurdyroot Luna harvested earlier this week may be useful if you are not careful with the soup you consume and recommends paying close attention to the wives of men with whom you dine for the same reason within the next four weeks)
(Writer of this blog: this is quite fun thanks for doing this, I doubt I’d be able to consistently come up with answers for such a complex, selfish, and perfect cult leader, definite early signs of sociopath (killing that kids bunny and stealing others treasured and valuable things and lack of empathy) that seem somewhat canonical. Ik we know a lot about Voldemort which definitely helps but people who run these blogs in ways that seem true to character are talented. I always try to understand where people come from and what’s made them them. I try not to hate a person but only hate the actions and choices they make and the actions and choices that have effected them. But ik with some of these questions you get I’d probably have to really try to think hard about what the character would say and put a lot of focus on separating myself out of the equation. You’re kind of like a skilled method actor. Like Heath Ledger (RIP) was a wonderful and kind person, but he was so good at separating from himself and really becoming the joker.)
Children are indeed a baffling delight, are they not. I remember when Delphini was small, and she enjoyed giving me flowers to set upon my desk. I humored her, and there would be bouquets of daffodils placed around various dark texts and artifacts. What a sight that must have been! I was perhaps too annoyed with the child at the time. They do grow rather quickly.
Maisie sounds like she has a good head on her shoulders, as any Ravenclaw does. A fine house - I am certain she knows Delphini, though Delphi was a bit of a wild teenager and I would imagine she would not have hung about anyone with half some sense at that age. Shame, truly. But she is calming down a bit now, as much as one can with someone like Bella for a mother. She takes after her mother in more ways than one, which is a blessing and a curse.
A Gryffindor? How unfortunate, but it does sound as though you are raising him right. As for the smaller ones, they sound as though they will turn out well - despite the challenges. War is very hard on our children, unfortunately. My condolences for your losses.
I recommend Bagshot Park. More land for the children to run amok on - especially if you gather up more.
Ah, so you wish to take the Dark Mark? I had assumed you would not want to get terribly involved in government as you have the children no one in your position would get hounded after to take the Mark, with that in mind, so if you feel you must out of necessity, you need not worry. Ah, but Bella informs me this is sexist, and you may merely just want to take the Mark out of genuine interest. I admit, I grew up in a different time, and perhaps forget this on occasion.
We do generally prefer an eldest son take the mark when he comes of age - your oldest boy being a Gryffindor, he may resist this custom. However, if Maisie were to marry one of my ranks, (or I suppose take the Mark herself, if she is interested) then perhaps we can look the other way about the boy.
The trials only last a night, and are a test of loyalty and strengths more than anything. There is dueling involved, so dress comfortably. But we can speak more to that once you are settled.
Regards,
Lord Voldemort
[[OOC: sorry this answer took so long! But I tend to delay longer asks for when I have time and energy for them - longer questions do take longer to craft an answer. And thank you! <3 <3 <3 I am so glad you like my blog, and that you feel I do Voldy justice! I’ve never heard writing be compared to acting before but it really makes a lot of sense, and that is really cool to think about. Thanks again!]]
#voldemort#letters#Iona McKinley#new recruits#trials#children#death eaters#correspondance#nerdettezebracorn333
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