#man whose entire world came crashing down instantly

[mothwithapencil]

ALSO ALSO ALSO

I'm on board with the Ghetsis has chronic pain thing.

And like you know how he slams his cane on the ground? I think that doing that, like, fucking hurts like hell for him. But he does it to try to ground himself bc 1) he doesn't really know what else to do and hes really desperate to not lose his cool in most situations 2) it scares the shit out of people, which in turn makes him feel less vulnerable.

He's like, TERRIFIED of feeling "exposed" or vulnerable. He can't let other people see him in a "weakened" state to the point where there's only like three people he'll eat in front of bc god forbid anyone find out that he does in fact require food to live. You know, like a human or something. Likewise, I think he also has pain medication prescribed to him but he hates taking it and will absolutely refuse to unless Colress literally begs him to take it. Oh, yeah. Colress is also the reason why Ghetsis actually starts going to the doctor and even therapy sometimes. And yeah...he DEFINITELY tricked out the cane too just to get ghetsis to use it

Ok I'm still working on a response for your last ask but GOD THIS ALL OF IT IS SO TRUE. ALL OF IT. I was just thinking about it earlier too. Ghetsis is absolutely terrified of being perceived and vulnerable. He can't let anyone know he's a human being, a mortal man with weaknesses, someone who can be hurt, someone who can die. This is why I think he covers the scars on his face with makeup. He hides all evidence of him being capable of being harmed, because Gods can't be harmed!

With the Cane, I've put a lot of thought into this. The cane itself is white, and it contrasts a lot with the dark overall colors of Neo Team Plasma. It looks like one of two things happened with it:

1. He had that cane during BW. The colors match better. He didn't use it because of that fear of looking weak. By the time BW2 came around, he was hardly able to walk normally. When Colress comes back to Unova and finds out about what happened to Ghetsis' arm, he absolutely convinces him to use it again. The cane makes him look powerful! If someone is being stupid he can smack them with it! And Colress can even trick it out with Devices! Ghetsis likes those!

2. Ghetsis didn't have a cane in BW but still needed one. Suffered without one for so long he once again could hardly walk normally. Sometimes the Grunts would help him walk (see: they huddle around him when they walk away after his speeches :]). While the general Neo Team Plasma color is black, it should be noted almost everything associated with Colress is white. Perhaps Colress made a special cane just for him, which helped in convincing him to use it

I just think Colress took care of Ghetsis a lot during BW2. Before then Ghetsis was putting himself through hell out of fear. But Colress convinced him to allow himself fo be helped. Colress has seen parts of Ghetsis he wouldn't dare show anyone else. Colress was never intimidated by Ghetsis, and as such has the special ability to reach through all his emotional barriers and get right to his heart. And Ghetsis surprisingly doesn't feel the need to recoil. For the duration of BW2, I like to think Ghetsis could be fully "exposed" to Colress and Colress would hold him with gentle arms.

And every time I think about that it reminds me of how much weight Colress running to alola and proclaiming his hatred for Ghetsis holds.... :( He'll make up for it.... Someday...

[ofstarsandfireflies]

Tonight is Beauty and the Beast and by Beauty and the Beast I mean the 22nd of November 1991 classic.

How do I know the release date?

That’s the very date of my birth 😁

Stephen shouldn’t have messed with the Ancient One.

He shouldn’t have tried to use the time stone to go back so he could use his hands properly again.

So he could have his old life again.

She had seen him do this and decided to punish him for it.

He would remain in this Sanctum, with his scarred hands, trapped in time where the scars wouldn’t fade, where the shaking wouldn’t cease.

A nightmare of his own making.

Until, by some miracle, someone came to love him and his scars, and he them.

If not, if he still hadn’t found love by the time the power within the stone fades, then his life would fade with it.

He knew her conditions would never be met.

That he was trapped like this, slowly watching his life dwindle away day after day while everyone on the outside went about as normal.

It had already been five years and it hadn’t happened yet.

Who in their right would love him, when his hands looked like this?

It’s business as usual when Tony and Peter are patrolling New York at night, the wedding proposal Rogers tried to spring on him earlier that day still fresh in his mind as Tony rolls his eyes at the cringe worthy memory and focuses on what Peter is chattering about in his ear.

There doesn’t seem to be much activity in the area they’ve designated themselves. It looks like it’s going to be an easy and calm night.

That is until Peter misjudges a swing and goes crashing through some old building’s even older, fancily designed window.

Tony tries asking him if he’s alright over the comms, but Peter isn’t replying.

Thinking the kid could be more hurt than he initially thought, Tony enters the building as well and sees the dark silhouette of an unknown man with an unconscious Peter.

Shooting at the man does nothing, his shots somehow miss him entirely, his suit malfunctioning quickly after.

Having no way to protect Peter, Tony tries to ask him to let Peter go, that he’ll pay for the window, he doesn’t need to hurt the kid because of it.

The man turns to him, instantly realising who he is.

Stephen doesn’t care that the window got broken, he cares that this kid decided to enter the Sanctum; the one place Stephen Strange can hide from the world. Can hide from the ridicule he would receive about his hands.

He’s going to teach the kid a lesson for disturbing him, for daring to come here and think he can leave with no consequences, no matter how many times Tony tries to tell him that it was an accident.

When his words fall on deaf ears, Tony tells him he’ll do anything, and quickly offers himself in Peter’s place.

The man looks at him.

Really looks at him.

This is new.

He’s been stuck here for so long, trapped in time for so long that he’s forgotten what other people would do for one another when they truly care about someone.

But more than that, he is being offered the chance he’s been waiting for to break this damn curse he’s under, so Stephen agrees immediately, sending Peter away through a portal before Tony can even say goodbye.

Tony is heart broken as the wizard leads him through the dark building and goes over the rules he wants Tony to abide to.

The first is the use of his name, as he wants to be addressed as Doctor Stephen Strange, Tony refusing the mouthful and getting on Stephen’s nerves when he just uses his surname.

It’s only when he tells him to stay out of the West Wing of the Sanctum, that he ends up snapping at him and the questions Stark seems to be filled to the brim with.

When they reach the bedroom Tony will be staying in, Stephen wants him to join him for dinner, the request coming off more as a demand.

He needs to get things going as soon as possible as the time stone has already begun to dim.

But Tony is not having it.

He is here against his will and he is not hungry, telling the Sorcerer this only to been thrown into an argument he very much wins, despite Stephen’s insistence he can make him do whatever he wants.

Stephen is very close to using his magic on him to show him what he means, but is stopped by Wong, who reminds him that if he wants to win the heart of Tony Stark to break this curse, then he needs to control his temper.

Stephen gives in, tries asking nicely, but Tony’s stubbornness only makes him angrier and he tells Wong that if Tony won’t eat with him, then he doesn’t eat at all, and leaves Tony alone to hide away further in the Sanctum.

Tony emerges soon after, Wong and a sentient cloak offering him some food despite what Stephen told them.

He’s a guest here, and should be treated as such. They even allow him to wander around the Sanctum.

That doesn’t stop Wong from making sure he doesn’t touch anything he shouldn’t, but Tony still manages to slip away to get a sneak peak at what could be in this West Wing Strange has told him to stay away from.

The West Wing, it turns out, is an almost completely destroyed part of the Sanctum.

Broken furniture and shattered glass litter the floor, and the only thing to have survived is a stand with a glowing amulet hovering a few inches off the surface, covered by a glass dome.

Intrigued, Tony lifts the dome and reaches for this magical item, not seeing Stephen appear behind him, until he’s flying forward to cover the mysterious relic once more and demanding to know what Tony is doing here.

Tony tries to apologise but Stephen is furious, shadows getting longer around him and magic sparking dangerously at his shaking hands.

Tony ducks as a bolt hits a wardrobe behind him and blows it into a thousand pieces, quickly running from the room before he’s caught in any of the other blasts the Sorcerer was gearing up to unleash.

By the time Tony is gone, Stephen realises what he’s done, covering his face in shame.

Tony can’t stand to be here another second, running to the door and throwing it open as Wong tries to beg him to stay.

Tony runs out of the Sanctum, uncaring for the promise he’d made to stay, trying to reboot his armour now he’s no longer around any magical interferences, but it’s as he’s doing this he’s set upon by some magical freaks with purple crystallised skin around their eyes.

They’re magic users too, only it’s not the kind he’s seen from Strange.

This magic creates weapons which get pointed at his throat, like long jaggered pieces of glass.

This magic is made to do harm.

And the users of this magic have mistaken Tony for a wizard of the Sanctum.

With Tony’s suit for the count and no weapons on him to defend himself, he is shocked when Strange comes to his rescue, beating the lot of them back and nearly losing his an arm when one of the shards cuts deep enough to draw an endless stream of blood which soaks his robes and splatters onto the pavement.

It’s not until they retreat and Stephen manages to take one last look at Tony to make sure he’s unhurt before he collapses from exhaustion that Tony finds himself pausing in his second attempt at running away.

Stephen had helped him.

Had risked his life for him.

He can’t just leave him to bleed out in the middle of the street.

With the cloak’s aid, and that of the portal Stephen had appeared from, Tony carries him back into the Sanctum and begins to tend to his wounds.

Which is a little difficult as Stephen doesn’t want Tony touching him, or to be more precise, his hands.

Tony tries to grab him but Stephen stubbornly keeps his injury out of Stark’s reach, resulting in Tony using a little too much force to press the clean cloth to the wound, starting another argument about whose fault it is this happened, winning again when he brings up Stephen’s temper.

Stunned into silence when he realises Tony is right, he finally allows Tony to touch him.

And as Tony sets to work, he stuns him further.

Not only by his thanks for saving his life, but also by how Tony doesn’t say anything about his scars, or how there’s no look of disgust on his face as he touches them in order to move his arm to the light to begin his stitches.

And Stephen acknowledges his thanks and remains quiet, pondering over this feeling in his chest.

As the ice had finally begun to melt between the two, Peter woke up in the hospital wing of the Avengers compound, having been out of it for over a week since Tony Stark’s disappearance.

He was surrounded by Avengers keeping vigil over him and he shot up immediately, trying to get all of his words out all at once about the old place he’d ended up in, the only thing he could remember before the very air had been squeezed out of him by something wrapping tight around his chest.

The Avengers looked around at each other, clearly unbelieving the deluded words of the teen as he flopped back down in bed, exhausted.

He’d make them see. He’d find that place and make them see.

Stephen was on the top floor, looking down at Tony out in the garden, the cloak wrapped around him to keep the winter chill at bay.

And his heart gave a little leap at the sight.

In all his years, stuck here or before hand, he’d never felt this way about anyone, and was compelled to do something for Tony to show his gratitude for helping to stitch him up last night and also to show him that he wasn’t a complete monster.

Wong was no help with ideas but after a short moment, Stephen realised what it was he could give to Tony.

So, he called Tony inside.

He didn’t want Tony to be bored, and he truly wanted him to be able to do what he loved, so he took him to a single room, opening the door slightly before closing it again and turning to the man, asking him to close his eyes.

Tony rose a playful eyebrow at him, and did as he was asked.

Stephen shook a hand in front of his face to make sure Tony wasn’t faking before taking his hands gently and leading him into the room, allowing Tony to open his eyes once more.

Before him, stood a portal.

And much to Tony’s delight, it was a portal which lead to his workspace back home.

Absolutely delighted with being able to work on his suit, he dragged Stephen into the room to show him around, Wong smiling to himself before leaving them alone.

Stephen watches Tony work, he even helps him from time to time, and even though his hands shake when doing so, Tony doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

He passes tools to him and Tony takes them, a rosy blush dusting his cheeks when their hands brush.

No look of disgust.

No flinching away as his scars scrape against perfectly smooth skin.

Tony doesn’t react at all.

As if the scars don’t bother him or aren’t there to begin with.

And Stephen’s heart skips a beat or two.

Tony’s been gone for far too long that Avengers can’t keep quiet about his disappearance any longer.

Either they go out and find him or go to the press and tell them why Tony Stark has been absent for so long.

And it’s only when they go back to Peter, ready to listen to where he thought this building could be, they find his bed empty.

The kid was in no condition to be roaming the streets in search of his mentor, especially with how hard it’s raining outside.

Stephen trims his beard and combs his hair back as Wong watches from the doorway, trying to convince Stephen to confess his feelings already.

Yes.

Tonight he’ll...

He accidentally drops the comb in the sink.

No.

No he can’t.

Tony’s just being nice to him, that’s all. A good man like him, a celebrity like him, wouldn’t want someone like Stephen Strange.

Maybe before his hands had become disfigured, but not now.

Short of knocking some sense into his friend, their conversation is interrupted by the cloak, fastening itself around Stephen and dragging him out of his room.

Tony is standing there, waiting for him in a simple suit that makes Stephen weak at the knees, tailored to each curve and line of his body that shows off all his assets.

They eat together, Stephen’s use of cutlery far more improved since he’s been practicing for this night, yet they barely get through the first course before Tony is dragging him away to dance to the music softly playing around them.

Stephen is a little shy, unknowing where to put his hands and if Tony wants him touching him anywhere, but Tony just places one at his waist while he holds the other, Stephen’s feet quickly learning the steps as he holds Tony more confidently.

They spin. They twirl.

Stephen forgets what his hands have become and Tony smiles broadly at him.

And as the music dies, as they slow and gaze at one another, each leaning in a little, the door bursts open and Peter falls to the ground, sopping wet and red with fever as he coughs and tries to heave in air.

Tony is frantic and Stephen is yelling orders, which turns into Tony yelling at him that Peter needs to go to a hospital.

No.

No, if Tony leaves, he might not come back.

But...if he stays, Peter might not survive with the little he can do for him.

Tony looks away from him back to the sick kid in his arms and Stephen wonders if he should let Tony go.

He cares about the kid he hasn’t seen in so long, and Stephen shouldn’t keep him from those who love him just because he loves him too.

Spell be damned, if Tony wanted to leave him and forget their meeting, Stephen would let him.

Because he loves him.

Truly loves him, as he thought he never would love another.

Heart heavy with what he knows what he has to do, what he has to give up, Stephen opens the portal that would take Tony away from him, but save the kid’s life.

And, with a grateful thank you instead of a goodbye, Tony picks up the teen and walks through the portal with him.

Stephen can only watch as it closes before walking through one himself, eyes locking onto the amulet before him and trying not to notice how dull it has become.

And Wong can’t believe what he’s just seen.

After all these years of waiting, Strange chose Tony’s happiness over his own.

He’s learned to love selflessly.

Peter opens his eyes, blinking a few times when he thinks he sees Tony sitting beside him.

A few more and the room comes into focus, Tony with a relieved smile on his face as he talks about how worried he was.

Peter doesn’t care that almost leaping out of bed to hug the man is probably the worst thing he could do, but Tony holds him close nonetheless before easing him back down to rest, running a hand through his hair to comfort him while he drifts in and out of consciousness.

Stephen is a sorry mess indeed without Tony around anymore, just staring out the window in hopes of seeing the Iron Man flying back to him.

Instead, a large shield comes crashing through the window, knocking Stephen onto the floor.

He doesn’t ask why Captain Rogers is here, he doesn’t very much care. He’s not in the mood to fight, for he has nothing to fight for.

Rogers grabs him and throws him through the gaping hole where the window had been, yelling at him to get up and fight.

But Stephen won’t.

If he’s here to punish him for holding Tony hostage here, then so be it.

If he’s here to put him out of his misery, he won’t try to stop it.

But then he hears Tony’s name.

Rogers is talking about Tony.

About how Tony is his fiancé.

About how Tony belongs to him.

About how Tony could never love someone with hands like that.

And Stephen knows that’s not true.

As Rogers goes to attack him again, Stephen finally stands up and defends himself.

He may be alone again, he may have nothing to lose but he still has something to fight for.

There’s still time to tell Tony how he feels.

Even if Tony didn’t feel the same way, he still had the right to know how Stephen felt about him.

And Rogers was not going to get in his way.

He’ll deal with him how he was going to deal with Peter before Tony came into his life.

He’ll toss him through a portal to the dark dimension and leave him there.

Tony is about to walk out and leave Pete to sleep in peace when he sees the doorway is blocked by his friends, everyone clambering into the small hospital room to get to him and make sure he’s alright.

Honestly, you’d think he were the one laying in the bed.

Tony is talking to the group of Avengers about where he’s been all this time when he realises Steve Rogers isn’t there.

And his heart drops.

Rushing out of the hospital to the suit of armour he’d called to him already open and waiting, he blasts into the air before it even has time to finish closing around him, flying straight to the Sanctum where he hopes Rogers isn’t.

And he gets there just as Stephen gains the upper hand in their battle, shoving Rogers towards the portal he had opened.

But when Steve starts begging for his life, tells Stephen he’ll do anything, Stephen can’t help but be reminded of Tony.

And he stops.

Slowly, he pulls Rogers away from the portal he was going to throw him through and is just about to finish closing it when he hears Tony call out him.

Stephen immediately turns, reaching for him as Tony closes the distance between them, holding Stephen’s shaking hand to his cheek as he gently caresses it.

He came back.

He chose to come back to him.

What he ever did to deserve Tony he’ll never know, but he’s not going to let him go now he’s come back to him.

Their moment is ruined by Steve, who plunges a dagger right into Stephen’s back.

Stephen pushes Tony out of the way to protect him as Steve goes to do it again , but Tony blasts him back toward the portal just as it closes completely on him.

Stephen slumps backwards and Tony catches him, pulling him into his arms and lays him down to make him more comfortable while he tries to get a look at the wound, but Stephen tells him there’s nothing he can do.

Tony’s not listening.

He’ll take Stephen to the hospital and get him patched up good as new.

He’ll take care of him from now on, they were together now.

But Stephen knows the truth of the outcome for him.

He knows he’s not going to make it.

Stephen holds his hand to Tony’s cheek just like before, happy to see him one last time, before he closes his eyes and his scarred hand slips away.

Tony tries everything he can to bring him back to him, but nothing works.

Wong and the cloak bow silently as Tony holds Stephen close to him, crying into his robes, and finally whispers that he loves him as the emerald light within the time stone fades completely.

At that very moment, the time stone reignites, green magic surrounding the two of them as time rewinds to heal Stephen and bring him back to Tony.

He’s finally free of the spell.

After so long he’s finally free.

And it’s all thanks to Tony managing to love a man a who couldn’t love himself.

Quotes -

“There’s nothing you can do. He’s my prisoner.”

“There must be someway I can...wait! Take me instead.”

“You? You would...take his place?”

Tony offers himself in place of Peter

“That hurts!”

“If you’d hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much!”

“Well, if you hadn’t have run away, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away!”

“...Well, you shouldn’t have been in the West Wing.”

“Well, you should learn to control your temper! Now, hold still. This might sting a little. By the way, thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.”

Stephen and Tony starting to warm up to one another.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I want to do something for her! But what?”

“Well, there’s the usual things. Flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep.”

Stephen seeks Wongs advice on what he can do for Tony.

“She glanced this way, I thought I saw. And when we touched she didn’t shudder at my paw. No it can’t be. I’ll just ignore. But then she’s never looked at me that way before.”

Stephen sees something that wasn’t there before.

“And when the moment is right, you confess your love.”

“Yes, I...I...I...no, I can’t.”

“You care for the girl, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

Stephen needing encouragement.

“Maybe... it’s better...it’s better this way.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll be alright. We’re together now. Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see.”

“At least I got to see you...one last time.”

“No. No. Please. Please. Please don’t leave me. I love you.”

Tony finally confessing his love

As Old As Time

Stephen has been trapped in time for so long he has lost his humanity.

And a chance encounter with Tony Stark could be what he needs to break his spell.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3

[stopeatingwhales]

mirage x john taylor

i wrote this a while ago, but for some reason i didn't post it lmao, its one of my favourite things that i've ever written, so i really hoep you enjoy it! also john taylor omfgggjja

Pairing: 82! john taylor x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.602

༉‧₊˚✧

Admiring the earth in the early hours of dawn was as if an angel had blessed you with the first sightings of heaven. It’s a glimpse of life at its true peak, demonstrating the true meaning of what living is and what it should be: beauty at its finest resort. At this hour, you’re able to catch the sight of earth in total fragility, a mere ghost-town without a soul in sight. There was little to no irritations echoing out of any residences aligned by the coast (as there usually would be until 4 in the morning), just the mere accompaniment of the exuberant sounds of eloquent waves, crashing aimlessly into the golden landscape of the beach. There was also an occasional chirp of the cicadas scattered around the atmosphere, putting my mind at ease as though I wasn’t the only person on earth awake at this celestial hour. I constantly cherished moments like these; they were, surprisingly, the only times I was able to simply breathe. No distractions, no one coming up to me questioning whether I was going to go to the amazing-party-down-town that everyone is somehow going to, it was just me. Life plays by so quickly, people seem to forget the beauty in which is constantly surrounding them. A party doesn't mean anything, a one-night-stand doesn’t mean much but a potential orgasm. This, however, being alone, admiring the world in all its might and eccentricity, produces a euphoria not even drugs can obtain a level to. This place undeniably fixated a meandering caprice on me — like a blanket of unknown being poured on each side of my body, indulging me with a time of self-discovery and meaning. There were constant thoughts echoing through my mind frivolously, so loud and so ripe, but quiet, dimmed, as if they were too loud for me to even muster, resulting in a forceful crumble of a delighted whisper. As I gazed at the land that lay ahead of me, I examined every little detail that I could set my eyes upon. Palm trees danced with the wind, cavorting in their own, personal fantasies as if they each occupied an individual mind. Their movements were graceful, almost completely orchestrated, yet sloppy, like a drunken collapse of a newly-wedded couple in the centre of the dancefloor of their service they’ve jointly paid life savings on, a moment so inebriated in love, adoration, and commitment. I envied their joy, their casual sways, their attempted defiance against the power of nature, for they probably felt contentment every single day of their existence by such an uncanny resort.

As my eyes began to slowly trail off the dazzling trees, I looked up to gawk at the alluring illustrations painted on the ceiling of the nirvana that rested forth from me. There was not a single whiff of cloud in sight, the atmosphere simply pencilling an array of warm shades, ranging from the deep, murderous blood oranges, to royal delicacies of periwinkle. The view was unfathomable. As the waves began to pick up, I felt the light gusts of wind that accompanied me previously begin to cement. The air calloused my hair, marvelling in the deeply coated locks, attempting to carry them to its next destination. It almost felt the same way as someone brushing their fingers through my roots, all the way down to the aged, lifeless tips. I felt my skin begin to draw goosebumps, an indication that it was time for me to head inside. However, I wanted to occupy the time I had. I didn’t mind painfully tormenting my body when coming into contact with such a meandering view. I was holding a moment, capturing a memory, taking panoramic snaps to engrave in my mind because I was fully aware that this would be the only chance of true life I’d have. I compelled my body to stay put, even though I was practically ice, forcing my eyes continuing their glimmer at the picturesque skies — I simply was unable to get enough of it all. Every few minutes, just when I was feeling my eyes get heavy and my eyebags pull at my face, I’d notice a new, fresh colour contrast in the empyrean, my eyes widening at the serendipity that had laid out, once again. Simply inhaling the sweet taste of purified air and having my eyes fixate on such pictorial demises, was causing me to lose my grip with reality. The oxygen, the sunlight, the entire concept of life, is all somehow always so much more tranquil yet augmented when you’re situated by the coastline.

After what felt like a million years and a million different shades of colours verging from reds, to yellows, to blues, I felt two arms slowly slider around my shoulders. Snapping me out of my trance, I felt my heart skip a beat, until I came to the rational realisation that it was him.Turning my head, I instantly came into contact with the face of a tired, smiley John, tailgated by a whiff of messy hair sloppily covering his forehead. I attempted to hold back my smile by forcing my teeth on my bottom lip, yet I was seemingly unsuccessful. Our faces were merely centimetres apart, our noses very nearly brushing against one anothers, though it felt like they already were. My eyes, which were once so focused and enthralled by the view above, were trapped in the stare that was reciprocated by the man whose arms were adorned by my torso at this moment. I studied his features intently for the short period of time our stare was consumed in, analyzing anything and everything I could identify — his perfectly shaped nose, so accurately proportionalized in all areas; his thin, flawlessly drawn eyebrows — eyebrows women would pay so much for to get done; his pink, puffy, paradisiacal lips, lips you would seemingly never get enough of; and not to forget his seraphical eyes, eyes that would draw you in instantaneously, eyes that would pierce daggers to your soul and make it ache in rapture. Whenever he would stare at me, I felt intimidated by the adoration that seeped out of his beautifully drawn pupils. His eyes were a visage to his soul, his emotions; it wasn’t hard to determine his feelings when coming into contact with his gaze. His face was a dream to look at, and sometimes I felt that he wasn’t real, just a conjured up scenario I’ve placed myself into, a product of my own fantasy, the looks in which he conveyed of pure gorgeousness and idyllicism seemed like they were sculpted in the garden of Eden. He seemed like he came from the garden of Eden. “Good morning,” he chirped, the gravelly sound exhibited from his larynx was yet to fade off, proof that he hadn’t been up for that long. “Why’re you out here?”

Beaming at him, I turned my head to watch the ardent waves repetitively douse themselves onto the soft ground. No matter how many times I watched it, the same feeling of relaxation and relief released itself from my veins as I had felt the very first time I held my admiration towards it. Sighing, I felt I was silenced by the grace of the water, grabbing onto one of John’s hands as a form of support to allow me to speak. “It’s so pretty out here, can’t you see?” I answered lightly with all the courage I was able to muster, feeling a sudden throb disperse itself in my heart. My eyes gazing at the view forth caused a feeling of not only elementary joy, which made me feel like a child again, but heavy nostalgia and emptiness, the type of emotion that washes over you when you’re reminiscing over memories shared with your lost ones — your facial expressions show you smiling sweetly, but inside your body is crumbling. It’s bittersweet. Clutching onto his hand made me feel secure, content, wanting to cherish this moment and hold it accountable for all its might, though I felt like a creep trying to explain myself to John. These thoughts, these emotions I cohered in my mind made me feel like I was a complete lunatic, that I was looking too in-between-the-lines, too in-depth. I couldn’t help it though, it came naturally, like how overthinking possesses one’s brain in the most cruel and unpleasant mannerisms.

I heard a small hum rumble out of John’s throat. Moving to sit beside me, I felt his arms detach themselves slowly, the slowness of his movements almost indicated that he didn’t want to move, though he was moving closer to me. I was sitting on the wooden bench situated in the centre of the medium-sized patio, and as time passed on, it began to get lonely with it just being me and the coastline. However, once he sat the closest he could without practically throwing himself on me, I felt full again. No matter what happened, no matter what I thought or felt, having him beside me as our bodies were enveloped in a cordial embrace made me realise that it’s not just the admiration of the place that put me in such a beautified mood, seeing the trueness in all that surrounded me, but it’s also the people I surround myself, my days, my life with. And I’m sure by now, by feeling this exact same feeling with John, I know I would adore spending the rest of my life with him.

“How are you?” I attempted to change the subject, turning my head to admire the side of his genial face. His right arm was now stretched out, resting on my shoulders whilst his free hand began lightly gripping the bone of my shoulder in an attempt to cold onto me, as if I was going to vanish and flutter off into the abyss of the crystal blue ocean, as if the grip I enamoured his palm in wasn’t enough. His head immediately swung to gaze at me as soon as I spoke. A small smile formed on his face, almost exact to the little smile he threw at me when he first came up to me a couple of minutes ago, portraying his deprived self. My heart felt warm staring back at John’s eyes, the simple doing birthing millions of butterflies in my stomach, though it was contrasted against an emotion of complete elation and bliss in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile back at him as he abruptly cleared his throat before speaking, the intimidation and nervousness pooled in my body now taken off guard from trying to murder my insides.

“I’m decent,” he mumbled, his fingers now relaxing on my flesh as he softly drew patterns on my shoulder. The childlike action was seemingly able to captivate my stomach with butterflies once again, a small beam creeping on my face as I felt a blush creep on my cheeks. I avoided looking at him, though I knew he knew exactly what he was doing to me; he always did. He knew me exactly like the back of his hand, hell, even better than that. “What time did you get up?”

A small laugh rang through my throat before I spoke. It almost came across as me mimicking his own throat soundings, though I wasn’t. “At the crack of dawn, my dear,” I smiled at him, my body lacking resistance to not lock eyes with the boy situated next to me any longer. His stare was infatuating, his deep, brown, ethereal orbs that somehow brought the light I never knew I needed in my life, were like the angels granting you blessings through the stairway to heaven. “You know me, I’ve always been like this.”

The everlasting stare that fell onto my face from his eyes felt like my pores being deep fried by the sun. A small smile insinuated itself onto his dishevelled face, a diligent one. “That is in fact true,” he began, moving his stare into the glamorous empyrean that laid forth the pair of us. He took my hand, the frost that formed on the outlines of my skin sending feelings of shock to my nerves as the warmth of his palm enraptured itself with mine. “I simply wonder how you do it.”

After those words easily fell from his lips, I turned my head to look at him — specifically his side profile — as he enamoured himself in the transience of the colours. I spent a few moments — moments not too long, yet not too short to make the dissonance of time to deplete — to take in the scenario playing out currently. “If I were to tell you how, I would be defying my own self.”

He turned to me, curious and confused, pulling away from our shared embrace lightly to look me deeply in the eyes. “Reiterate?”

A short laugh escaped my body at his sudden reaction. We shared a moment of complete silence, a build-up to the words that I found myself beginning to slide off my tongue. A short intake of crisp oxygen and I was off, speaking my mind out of earnest discernment. “By telling you how I do such things, it almost exposes the wirings of my mind, what makes me who I am. And perhaps it’s a self-indulged fear, like everything comes to be, of revealing too much of myself that makes me think like this, but it is always the element of mystery that draws those who are curious towards that void that is unknown, hoping they find out enough that dishevels that scarcely pit of wonder,” I began, us now sharing an intense stare with one another, the earth completely silent, as if it were listening to every word that left my lips. “Or maybe that is just my secret attempt of keeping you with me for much longer than this sunrise can elongate.” I finished, attempting to brighten the atmosphere from my mind’s most destructive and aimless thoughts.

It is true bravery, to speak your mind, more so it is to reveal your true identity, and to be able to do that, dictates the idea that the fear of living is nothing but the mind’s own manacles. We kept soft, meaningful smiles on our faces as our eyes melted together. The little grimace grew all the more wider after my little try for a joke played through. “We are who we are, having secretly decided who we’d like to be, no?” He asked, his head cocked to the side, almost mocking my words previously.

It’s an unexplainable feeling, love. It disregards all aspects of morality, for you find yourself in a want, a greed to present yourself to them in ways unexplainable. There isn’t much you can do, that is. Either let the fire in your heart, pumping twice the amount of usual speed it would do per minute, simply fade out into an abyss of your recall, or contain its cancerous feelings, for all you muster your ability to do is fall more and more in love with them each day. As cancerous as it is however, you willingly choose to delve yourself deeper, until you manage to get injured horribly, or sometimes you come to a simple jurisdiction that the water is too sour for you to swallow. My smile grew wider at the quote that rolled off so delicately off his tongue, a feeling of euphoria that clashed in unison with the tide poured over my body from head to toe. “Yes, exactly that, my love.”

[jeezlouiisee]

Invisible

Hi all! This is a story I’ve been thinking about and I’m finally putting it out there. I’m hoping to do more parts but I hope you like! 

Summary: You were always quiet and shy, until you lost your mother who always encouraged you to put yourself out there. So you do and you’ve caught the eyes of two Pogues. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings:Just some cursing

The Outer banks had been your home for your entire life and you had no friends, well except Pope. Pope Heyward was your only friend in the obx. You were both on the math team together, you both gushed over the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. He had wanted to introduce you to his other friends but you just didn’t want too, not yet at least. Then your mom died, car crash and your entire world fell apart. Your mom was your anchor, your confidant, the person who hugged you and calmed you when your anxiety got bad. She was the one always trying to get you out of your shell. It was hard to not have her for the end of your junior year but you survived. Pope and his friends were having an end of summer party at the bone yard, he of course invited you like he always did. However this time you said yes, you made a promise to yourself and your mom that you were going to branch out this year. This was going to be your summer. It was the Saturday after the last day of school which meant party day. You were standing in your room, sighing as you smoothed out the wrinkles in your dress for the 80th time. You looked good, you looked great, right? Of course you did don’t be stupid. You put on a little bit of lip gloss and mascara before grabbing your bag. 

“You’re wearing sneakers to a bone yard party?” Your older sister asked as she cut up vegetables for dinner.

 “Hey, just because I’m going to a party doesn’t mean I have to wear sandals or heels or something.” You said as you stuck your tongue out.

 “Fine, but meet a cute boy and make out with him.” She replied. Your older sister Shelby was all you had. She was about 5 years older than you and she had two jobs, waiting tables at the wreck and helping Popes dad with his deliveries. Your dad had passed away in a boating accident when you were 2, so you was just you three. Until your mom went too. 

“I’ll see you later.” Was all you said back before walking out the door. You lived pretty deep in the cut, you lived about a 10 minute walk from the bone yard. By the time you got there the party was in full swing, of course Pope and his friends were near the middle of all the commotion. They were laughing and talking with tourons, as they handed out beers. Pope noticed you almost immediately. 

“Y/N! You actually came!” He laughed as he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to his group.

 “Guys this is Y/N, the one I was telling you about.” You gave a little wave, extremely shy at the moment. 

“Oh yeah,you were both on the math team.”  One of his friends, Kiara said. They all snickered under their breath which left you confused. 

“Is it bad to be on the math team?” You raised your eyebrow, getting a little defensive. Your mom loved that you were on the math team, so you were protective. 

“No no it’s okay, it’s just a little inside joke.” John B said as he pulled his girlfriend Sarah into his side. 

“Oh okay, cool. Uhm so, could I get a beer?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked at JJ who was manning the keg stand. 

“You? A beer?” He simply chuckled before filling up a cup and handing it to you. 

“Yes I want a beer. So what?” You half snapped as you grabbed the beer and taking a sip. You immediately gagged a bit at the taste but continued to drink. JJ smirked at you.

 “That’s why, I’ve literally never seen you around here. Why now? Aren’t you like always with your mom?” Ow. Kiara suddenly jabbed him into the side with her elbow. 

“JJ.” She hissed, watching as you chewed your lip a bit and suddenly downed the entire drink. 

“Right well my mom died three months ago, so I can’t always be with a dead corpse.” You said before handing your cup back to JJ for a refill. JJ looked a bit impressed but also guilty before filling your cup up again. 

“Y/N I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You simply shrugged, sipping your second cup. “I’ve just decided to branch out, be more social like my mom wanted.” You chewed your lips to stop yourself from crying. 

“Hey, it’s okay. JJ just has one brain cell that he shares with Pope so it’s okay.” Sarah said with a smile as she walked over and randomly hugged you. 

“You’re sticking with us now, got it?” Pope asked as he joined in on Sarah’s little hug with you. 

“Okay deal.” You laughed, still a little weary. You glanced up from your hug and noticed that JJs eyes never left yours. You simply looked away as you ended the hug. 

“So what do you guys normally do at these parties?” 

“Well glad you asked.” JJ grinned as he pulled a blunt out of his pocket. 

“Do you want to try this or stick with your beer?” 

“I’ll think I’ll try-“ 

“You should keep the signal clear Y/N.” Pope said as he gave JJ a disapproving look. You laughed a bit at what Pope said before looking to JJ. 

“Let’s mess this signal up!” You cheered as you drank your beer. Sarah, John B and Kiara just laughed as Pope shook his head. JJ eagerly lit it and took a hit before handing it to you. 

“Do you know how to smoke a blunt?” He asked you seriously as he took a step towards you. Apparently according to Pope the only thing that JJ was ever serious about was weed. You shook your head slowly. 

“Nope, never smoked a day in my life.” JJ groaned and pulled you over to sit next to him on the rock he was on. 

“Okay, so first obviously you suck in a breath, but then inhale so it gets into your lungs. If it doesn’t then you won’t get high and my weed will go to waste, got it?” You blushed a little as you nodded then hesitantly took the blunt from JJ, putting it to your lips as you breathed in. You made sure to inhale so you could feel it in your lungs, they suddenly felt like exploding as you started coughing, grabbing your cup of beer to help subside it. 

“Oh my god, was that supposed to happen?” You chugged the rest of your beer. 

“That was terrible.” 

“You just gotta get used to it.” Kiara said with a shrug. After what felt like years of couching you asked for another refill of the beer. 

“Not tonight, tonight I stick with beer.” You stood up as you got a little confident. 

“You guys dance right? I mean, I can go find someone to dance with?” You were nervous even if you were confident but you wanted to do what your sister suggested. You want to make out with a boy. The boys looked a little confused about your question while the girls suddenly grabbed your arm as they both dragged you over to where people were dancing. 

“So do you like Pope? Or are you just friends?” Sarah asked as you all danced in a circle. 

“What? Pope? And me? No. No! We are just friends.” You started stuttering a bit as you got nervous. 

“Why did he say something to you?” You suddenly asked you didn’t know why, but you never thought of Pope like that. But he was kind and funny, plus he always saw you. 

“Well no.. but I think you two would be cute together.” Sarah grinned at you right before you bumped into someone. 

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry.” You said quickly, turning around. 

“Oh it’s no problem really. I can forgive a pretty girl.” The boy you had bumped into was cute, he definitely seemed like a kook but you just wanted to make out with someone. So what if they were a kook? 

“Go away Kelce.” Kiara interjected before you could say something. 

“She’s not interested.”

“Actually, I am.” You grinned at Kelce. 

“Would you want to dance with me maybe?” The boy whose name you know knew was Kelce lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“I would love too. And your name?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Let’s dance Y/N.” He held out his hand for you to take. Once you did he pulled you close and just swayed with you, nothing too inappropriate. It was nice, he didn’t really try to talk to you which kind of bugged you but you just let it go. You glanced over at the Pogues and you suddenly saw both Pope and JJ stand up, which was odd. Then you knew why, you suddenly felt another pair of arms there were not Kelces. 

“Well aren’t you pretty?” You suddenly whipped your head around and saw Rafe, you knew him instantly. He tried to get with your sister a few times. 

“Back off her.” You heard JJ say, you looked around and saw Pope and JJ directly behind Kelce. 

“But she wanted to dance.” That was Rafe.

“Maybe I don’t want to dance anymore..” You tried to pull away from Kelce but then that just caused you to run into the front of Rafe. You looked over Kelces shoulder and found JJs eyes, you looked at him with a look that just begged for him to help you. Suddenly he and Pope yanked Kelce away from you before JJ pushed Rafe to the ground. That was when Sarah got involved. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

“Uhm so I was dancing with Kelce and everything was great until Rafe came up behind me..” 

You had fear in your eyes, shaking a bit as you suddenly hugged Sarah tightly. She hugged back just as tight and pulled you away to go back to the rocks where you had taken your hit. In the background you could hear fighting and arguing. About ten minutes later Pope and JJ came back looking a bit happy. Pope sat down on your right and JJ stole Sarah’s spot on your left. Apparently John B decides to help fight off Kelce and Rafe so Sarah was checking to see how he was doing. 

“I’m sorry guys...” You mumbled as you looked down at her hands. 

“Y/N what are you talking about?” Pope asked as he hesitantly put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong alright? Those guys are assholes and they deserve whatever they got coming to them.” This time it was JJs time to talk as he playfully nudged your shoulder, you looked over to JJ and smiled a bit. 

“Thank you guys but I think I’m gonna go home.” You stood and turned to face them. 

“I can too-“ 

“I’ll walk you home-“ Pope and JJ spoke at the same time. 

“Oh uhm, I don’t need anyone to walk me I’m good.” 

“Hey Pope! Come help me with this!” Ki yelled while fiddling with the keg. 

“I guess I get to walk you home.” JJ grinned and stood up. 

“Lead the way.” You started walking, trying to walk a bit fast to make the trip go by quickly. 

“So why did you want to dance with someone?” JJ asked as he walked slower, you sighed because you knew he was walking slow on purpose. 

“I wanted to get out of my shell more, since my mom died my sister has been trying to motivate me to go out and do things. So tonight she told me to find a boy and make out with him.” You blushed when you said the end of your sentence. 

“You could make out with me?” That stopped you in your tracks. 

“I’m sorry what?” You turned to look at him, eyes wide.  

“Make out with me.” JJ repeated, taking a step towards you which caused you to take a step backward but you didn’t realize that there was a tree directly behind you. You left out a squeal at the feeling. 

“You barely know me.... why do you want to make out with me?”

 “Because you’re cute and besides, I want you to be able to tell your sister you kissed a cute boy.” He winked, shrugging.

“Uhm fine okay. I’ll make out with you but just this once okay? And don’t tell a soul!” You jabbed your finger into his chest. JJ simply chuckled and took another step towards her, brushing their lips together. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck as you eagerly pressed your lips firmly against his. He gripped your waist as he began to press you into the trees, his tongue softly brushing against your bottom lip. That caused you to gasp which was what JJ wanted so he slowly slid his tongue into your mouth. 

“Y/N!” You suddenly pushed JJ away from you as you breathed heavily, you looked over JJs shoulder to see Pope running towards you guys. 

“Hey I thought I’d help JJ walk you home.” 

“Pope I can handle walking a girl home on my own.” 

“Hey guys really it’s okay, come on it’s like five more minutes.” You ran your fingers through your hair as you started to walk to your house. You felt awkward but this time you definitely could tell that Pope might like you. After the very silent walk you finally arrived to your house, turning to look at them. 

“Thanks for the walk home boys.” You smiled a little, waving to them. 

“You want to hang out with us tomorrow? We’re meeting at the Shipwreck tomorrow at 10. Did you come too? I mean Kie did say you’re one of us now.” Pope said eagerly.You glanced over to JJ who was just grinning at you. 

“Yeah okay sure. Shipwreck at 10 am.” You quickly turned to unlock your front door.

 “Hey Y/N?” You turned to look at JJ. 

“Yeah? Have a good night.” He suddenly kissed you on your cheek and turning to start walking. 

“Pope you coming?” 

“Yeah In a sec.” Pope suddenly kissed your opposite cheek. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” With that he turned and the two boys walked away from sight. You quickly walked into your house and locked the door, leaning against it. Did they both like you? You didn’t understand, you were so confused. You were invisible, you weren’t seen and now all of the sudden you had two attractive boys kissing your cheeks? This was going to be a confusing summer. 

[tiaragqueen]

Pernicious

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Dazai Osamu x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Implied isolation, possessiveness, manipulation

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Now I don't expect your sympathy, this is what and where I want to be. For as long as my blood runs, love comes and goes. God knows, nobody loves you like I do.” - Nobody Loves You Like I Do [Emerson, Lake & Palmer]

“Nobody loves you like I do.”

The way he said it was so confident, so certain that you almost believed his statement. But you straightened up and scowled at him, determined not to allow him to poison your mind more than he already had. Not that you’d admit it, though. You knew that he knew, anyway.

And that was what made it aggravating to remember, knowing that he had and would always have an upper hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you sneered, raising a challenging brow. “Well, I don’t believe it.”

Dazai merely smirked; a wide simper that haunted your dreams more than you could count. He was savoring this, you knew it. You could feel his twisted enjoyment reverberating in your ears and finally settled on your bones. It pricked your skin like thousand needles, drawing invisible blood that he’d later drink in a wine glass as the fruit of his facile efforts on provoking you.

And he always won, because he knew you better than you knew yourself.

He slowly leaned to your height and toyed with the strands, the same exasperating smile still etched on his enigmatic features. Relishing. Deriding. Undermining. “Prove me wrong, then, sweetheart.”

The front door had long opened, beckoning you to infallible freedom. The nippy air of winter drifted inside and bristled the hair on your body, but you endured it. You wouldn’t show him another display of weakness, even if it was a mere shiver. Dazai always exaggerated things, like an excellent manipulator he was.

But he could recognize it, the faintest tremble and your ground teeth, regardless of the distance that separated you both. His foxy eyes examined you from head to toe, unblinking and persistent.

Shooting him one last glare, you slowly backed away and bolted out as if fearing that the door would close and disappear from your sight forever. You could feel the lingering stare on your back, and finally, you shivered. You didn’t bring any jacket with you, but the natural coldness couldn’t compare to his gaze.

The gaze of an ex-mafioso. The gaze of a man whose feelings you could never comprehend. The gaze of someone who had destroyed your life slowly yet surely.

All in the name of love.

Then again, what did he know about true love anyway?

You hugged your chest and observed the snow-laden city, occasionally glancing behind in case he was stalking you without your knowledge. There was no sight of Dazai everywhere, so far. He must’ve really freed you, for a moment.

You weren’t a fool; you’d predicted the outcome. It was easy to see, you’d be dumb if you miss it. Still, you grabbed the chance anyway. Who knows, maybe you could actually win this time. And as farfetched as it sounded, maybe you could outmaneuver him somehow.

But, first, you needed a place to crash in.

Now that you thought about it, how long has it been since the last time you’d contacted your friends? Or your family? A day in Dazai's apartment felt like a month to you. It felt uncomfortable to suddenly ask them to stay at their place when you never bothered to leave a text, but you hoped they’d understand your plight.

They would, right?

You shook your head resolutely and headed towards your best friend’s apartment. No, this wasn’t the time to be pessimistic. You needed to make use of the opportunity he’d presented to you. Dazai might not be stalking you right now, but it didn’t mean he was ignorant of your whereabouts. You didn’t have any money or a phone, not even a cent, so you couldn't possibly leave the city. And Dazai's connection was limitless.

But as you ascended the stairs that led to your friend’s room, you wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for Atsushi's help. Or, heck, the whole agency. But it meant you had to face him again, wouldn’t it? And with how intelligent and unreadable Dazai was, you had no doubts he could easily overturn the situation to his favor. For all you knew, he might’ve already thought about that kind of scenario.

So, that left you with no choice but to seek outside assistance.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted a shaky hand and knocked on the door hesitantly. You weren’t aware if your friend was home, but you prayed to God she was.

And finally, after seconds filled with desperate pleas, the door cracked open. Wide eyes peeked through the slit, and when they landed on yours, they instantly squinted.

“The hell do you want?” she hissed, much to your shock.

“Kimi!” you sputtered, mentally racking your brain to pinpoint the cause of her abrupt hostility. Was she angry because you suddenly cut all contact with her? Because your presence was unwelcomed? Or did you accidentally offend her in the past? “I-I need your help. I know it’s sudden, but hear me out–”

“Hell yeah, it’s sudden.” she snarled. “After you mocked me yesterday, you have the guts to show your disgusting face at my doorstep.”

All energy immediately dissipated from your agitated body, leaving a hollow shell behind. “What are you… talking about?”

You’d never seen her rolled her eyes so hard in your entire life. “Oh, so now you’re playing dumb, huh?” she sneered.

“N-no, I swear! I didn’t know what you were talking about!”

“Okay. Well, let me refresh your memory, then.” Kimi retorted sarcastically, thrusting her phone against your face. It displayed a myriad of vicious messages that you sent to her concerning her family life; messages that you didn’t remember sending. “I mean, I know that I came from a broken home. But you didn’t have to shove it to my face, you know? You have no idea how painful it is to hear it from people, especially from my own fucking best friend!”

Her voice cracked at the end, and yet, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the wall of texts. There was only one culprit who would do this, but you didn’t expect his savagery to extend this far.

“No, you… you’re wrong, Kimi. I didn’t… I didn’t send these, trust me. I don’t even have a phone!”

“Bullshit!” she snapped, the veins on her forehead throbbed. “You’re always like that; making excuses. Even after I broke up with my boyfriend and had a fucking meltdown in my room, you never came! What the fuck am I to you, [Name]?! A toy for you to play with and throw away after you’re bored, huh? Is that it? Is that what you think of me?!”

“Kimi, please! Calm down!”

“Don’t you tell me what to do! You basically left me all those months alone, and now you showed up again looking all innocent! Like you didn’t suffer a single shit about the pain you’ve caused to me!” Kimi shoved you from the doorstep, intent on kicking you out of her sight forever. “Go! Go and never come back, you ungrateful bitch!”

The slam of the door echoed in the empty hallway, but you still stared at it. You stared and stared, hoping that what occurred just now was merely your imagination. Because there was just no way she'd yelled at you, right? There was no way she'd broken your long-time friendship. No, she didn't... Right?

You gazed mutely before sighing, turning your back against the room that had welcomed you countless times. You looked ahead, feeling like a ghost as you wandered down the familiar staircase and out of the complex. People nonchalantly bustled past you, unaware and uncaring towards your slumping figure and vacant eyes.

You kept walking and walking until you found a lone bench and plopped down on it. You stayed impassive for the next couple of minutes, ignoring the person that sat a bit too close beside you. You said nothing even when they stretched their hand behind you and slowly caressed the strands that framed your catatonic mien.

“So, what’s freedom feels like?” they inquired. “Is it liberating? Or is it suffocating?”

… Why did you think you could outmaneuver him again? You must’ve gone bonkers somehow.

“I’d be liberated if you disappear from this world.”

Dazai chuckled, a sound too cheerful and high-pitched for your liking. “Oh, you know me so well, dearest,” he said good-naturedly. “But you know it, [Name]. As long as you’re still alive, I’ll never disappear from your life.”

You whipped your head towards him and snapped, “What else do you want from me, Dazai?! Aren’t you happy that you’ve destroyed everything?! Aren’t you happy that you’ve destroyed my friendship?!”

“I wish I am,” he mused and lied his hand on the bench, disregarding your rancor. “but there’s still one thing that I haven’t achieve.” Dazai leaned towards you, nimble fingers stroking your parted lips. “Your love.”

You swiftly grasped his hand before he could insert a finger into your mouth. “And you’re gonna fail, I’ll make sure of it.”

Dazai looked upwards and hummed questioningly, pretending to think about your feeble threat.

“I don’t know, [Name]. You seem pretty clueless right now. Your friends are turning their back on you, and you’ve estranged with your family. How can you ever hope on surviving with such minimal contact? You do realize that humans can’t live without other people, right? So even if you don’t love me, you’ll learn to appreciate my presence. Because I’m the only one left in your life now.”

“You’re crazy.” you spat, scowling at his certitude.

He grinned childishly as if he hadn’t declared his involvement in your estrangement. “I know, but you like me, no?”

Kimi: 貴美

[beautifulblhell]

A Kaleidoscope Of Colours Ch 1 (Finder Fic)

Pairing: Asami Ryuichi x Takaba Akihito

Summary: Having hated alphas for most of his life, the last thing Akihito wanted was to fall in love with an alpha. Except fate decided to reunite him with Asami. High school x omegaverse AU fic WC: 6099

Read it on: AO3

Chapter 1: Cherry Blossom Pink

Alphas are superior.

While it was true that alphas were born with good-looks and were physically superior to betas and omegas, and even if most of the top spots for the national exams were occupied by alphas, the automatic pass to ascend to the elite world, lord around others and arrogantly discriminate the omegas just because they were an alpha pissed Akihito off royally. That’s what had been instilled into everyone’s mind since the moment they were born, and society just accepted that as the truth.

‘Superior’ my ass, Akihito thought angrily as he agilely scaled up the tall iron gate. With a kick, he jumped off from the top and landed on the ground with a light thud.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing here?!”

Sure, they didn’t have to deal with those inconvenient heat cycles and take time off work, but most of the time they didn’t even work much themselves, only sitting on top of their ‘thrones’ and working others like slaves in a company that their forefathers had left them.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Bunch of good-for-nothing leeches.

“Listen here, you punk-“

A man -whom Akihito assumed to be a security guard from his outfit- ran across the school ground and accosted him in a menacing voice. He reached out a hand to grab Akihito by the shoulder but instead-

“Eh- Argh! It hurtsssss!!”

Accompanying the shrieks were dull crunching noises as Akihito bent the guard’s hand in a direction that no human hands were supposed to.

“Argh! Wait wait wait, please let go!”

Akihito slowly faced the guard. The guard stopped struggling the moment he saw the deep-seated rage behind Akihito’s eyes, his fear temporarily eclipsing his pain. Beads of cold sweat ran down his face and he tried to smile, his lips twitching. He gulped noisily, then stuttered, “U-uh sir? How may I help you?”

“Is this Yozen Academy?”

“Sure is, sir. Um, may I ask if you have any business here?” The guard laughed nervously, his eyes flickering desperately side to side, probably hoping for reinforcements, but it seemed that even Satan had turned a blind eye to his plight.

“Sure do.”

Following those words, in one swift movement, Akihito delivered a roundhouse kick straight at the man’s abdomen. The guard sailed through the air, followed by a dull thud as he landed heavily on the ground.

“...”

There was no movement.

Akihito walked over and stared in disbelief at the unconscious figure lying limply there. He nudged the man with his shoes, but the foam trickling from the guard’s mouth was his only response.

At least he was still alive. Probably.

A one hit K.O. huh. What kind of lame-ass security did they employ that faints from a single kick?

That… did not satiate his burning rage one bit.

He had been expecting to face at least quite a few veteran guards so he came with the intent to fistfight God if he had to, but this… this single minion took only a moment for Akihito to finish. In fact, seeing that he was able to deal with this in one blow did nothing but flame his irritation even more.

Akihito cracked his knuckles, scowling. Guess his target will receive his full wrath then.

“Well, pardon the intrusion.”  He stepped over the body as he said so. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned his surroundings.

Before him stood Yozen Academy, one of the most prestigious alpha-only high schools in the country. Only the most influential, wealthy, and powerful people around the world could send their alpha children to.

An imposing white building with an oppressive architectural style sprawled out in front of him, with wings adjoined on either side, giving the impression that Akihito was stepping into the mouth of a monster. It donned several stories high. Instead of making the building seem open, the giant glass windows seemed more like soulless eyes, gazing emptily at Akihito. Trees lined up the road leading towards the main entrance  with the track fields and sports courts could be seen off to the side.

Heck, whose decision was it to make this school so huge?! I’m gonna need Google Maps to navigate around this monstrosity. He ran a hand irritably through his bleached blond hair.

Finding his target in such a vast space was going to be difficult. Akihito tried not to let his annoyance stop him. A few students had exited the building, then, after seeing Akihito, they all doubled back in panic, slamming the door with a loud bang. As if a door could stop Akihito.

Such a nice welcome, and here I thought that they taught manners at this fancy school.

It didn’t help that Akihito wasn’t trying to blend in. While all the students were in pristine white uniforms, excellently tailored that screamed ‘I’m made of money!’, Akihito wore the more plain black gakuran with his sleeves rolled up. The white t-shirt he wore underneath was emblazoned with the kanji “fire’ along with a drawing of flames. Plus, he carried a wooden bat with suspicious dark red stains dried on to it on his shoulders.

So yeah, not very inconspicuous.

Akihito stared moodily at the building, contemplating whether to charge in or wait it out, since he was apt to get lost in that huge building if he went in. As he was thinking, an old bald guy with a shiny forehead that refracted the sunlight, blinding Akihito temporarily, stuck his head out from a window and then quickly retracted, like those whack-a-moles in arcades. Akihito knew that he would be calling the police.

Ahhh, damn, gotta act fast. It would be a pain in the ass if the police come. Not that he minded, since he could lead them on another motorcycle chase. But Akihito was losing his patience and his self restraint was getting tired at this point, ready to snap anytime. Well, gotta get him out of there first. And to do that? Akihito took a deep breath.

“COME THE HELL OUT OF THERE, YOU PIECE OF CRAP ALPHA!”

Hundreds of faces peered at him from the square glass windows. To be honest, Akihito didn’t specify which alpha he was looking for, but seeing so many alphas looking at him, Akihito couldn’t resist saluting his middle finger at them as a greeting. The horrified faces granted him a tiny bit of satisfaction.

Probably never had anyone act like this towards them, especially an omega, Akihito sniggered inwardly.

It was then a door from the left wing of the building opened, and a single person walked out, his back towards Akihito. He had a lean physique and wore the same white school uniform as the rest of the students here, however, he had a presence that was impossible to ignore. A striking presence that commanded everyone’s attention around him, but also emitted a quiet coldness that warned people off.

A tall muscular black haired alpha, had an imposing air. Kou had said angrily while Takato had his arms around a sobbing Yuriko. He probably said a name, but as he had just told Akihito what happened with Yuriko, it rocketed in one ear and out through the other.

Yep, found him. With his temper hanging on by a thread, he stalked towards the boy.

“Oi, I finally found you, you little-“

Hearing his voice, the young man turned around in surprise. The moment their gazes locked, Akihito jerked to an abrupt standstill. Whatever words that were in Akihito’s throat evaporated, along with any coherent thoughts he had.

That spring day during Akihito’s sixteenth year, his world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colours.

The light spring breeze sighed softly through the cherry blossom trees in the courtyard, creating a soft pink snowfall. Petals danced and swirled around them, seemingly full of life, as if gently beckoning them to be closer, creating a veil that separated them from the rest of the world, a space where it was only them two.

Through the branches, soft sunlight filtered through, basking the young man’s features in its warm rays, and Akihito’s eyes widened, his need to breathe forgotten.

The alpha’s beauty was ethereal. His soft black hair fluttered in the wind, framing his handsome features. His eyes were a striking deep golden colour, which widened in surprise when they saw Akihito.

“Aki...hito?”

The words were spoken so softly, and amidst the sound of the branches shuffling against each other, it was almost impossible to hear, but the gentle wafting air drifting amidst the blooming flowers carried the young man’s voice to Akihito, along with a delicate sweet fragrance, tickling Akihito’s nose.

Time seemed to have stopped and the whole world ceased to exist. Inside the whirlwind of blossoms, it was a space where nothing mattered, only them, reflecting so clearly in each other’s eyes.

“Pretty bold of you to bring your omega to school, Asami,” The atmosphere was instantly killed by an obnoxious voice that drew from behind him.

As if someone poured cold water over him, the adenoidal voice sent Akihito crashing back into his disordered senses. Reality was a bitch.

For a moment or two, he stood there in stunned silence. He was dimly aware of the voice of the newcomer, but his mind was not processing the meanings. He was overwhelmed by the unexpected welter of emotions swelling up inside of him. Emotions that he had never experienced before, emotions that he doesn’t have a name for, that sent his heart pounding, his blood pumping furiously in his veins, carrying a warm feeling, spreading through his entire body. As if someone had played a melody, and his heartstrings were vibrating along with every cadence.

The anger he was just feeling earlier was being painted over with confusion.

Heck, what is this? This- this feeling-

“Sakazaki.” The voice was cold and deep. The mere sound sent a jolt through Akihito like he touched a live wire. Slowly, he turned around. The black-haired alpha was now standing between him and the newcomer.

“Is that another Kuroyama High omega?” The obnoxious voice carried an unnecessary arrogant tone.

Hearing that, Akihito shakes himself out of his daze and mentally slapped himself to focus on the reason he came here in the first place. He pushed aside the pretty alpha in front of him and faced the irritating newcomer.

“Why do you mean, ‘another’?”

The newcomer was another alpha who exuded extreme arrogance as he stood with his hands in his pockets, unbothered by Akihito’s tone. His head was tilted back as he looked down on Akihito through his glasses. He sprouted the most awful looking scraggly beard Akihito had ever seen on a human. Half of his shirt button was open, revealing a rather hairy chest.

The goatee guy leered at Akihito, “Well, there was a little omega who wore the same cheap uniform as you who came onto me recently.”

It took Akihito a moment to realize in his still confused state that this was the person Kou was talking about.

The anger that had subsided started to brew up again. He hissed through his teeth, “She never came onto you.”

The goatee guy appraised Akihito with slimy dark, cold eyes that reminded Akihito of the dead fish at the outdoor fish markets. He then shrugged and leered, “Why does it matter? Omegas should just obey the will of the alphas, since the only useful thing they can do is to spread their legs for us. Isn’t this why you came over? Wanting to find an alpha to look after you?”

A waft of a heavy sickly sweet smell, like an overripe fruit that has been left for too long and turned rotten suddenly brooded over the air.

“Sakazaki.” An angry warning tone suddenly sliced through the air as the black haired alpha stepped forward. In an instant, an intimidating aura came crashing down and the air froze over. For a brief moment, the goatee guy seemed surprised by the young man’s anger, but in the haze of his anger, Akihito barely registered the smell and the exchange.

If there was a type of person that Akihito hated the most, it was alphas. Looking down and trampling the effort of others without working hard themselves, and acting as though they could do no wrong. As if it was all a privilege that came with the status of being born as an alpha.

Akihito gripped the bat so tightly in his hand that the wood creaked. The rage that he had suppressed earlier came roaring back to life in his ears. “Listen here, you piece of crap that is worse than the dog shit I nearly stepped onto this morning-“

The rest of his words were drowned out by the sound of several cars coming to a screeching halt in front of the gate and of vehicle doors slamming shut. The iron gate opened, welcoming in a swarm of men in black. They came charging towards them.

“That’s him, the delinquent with a bat !” A wheezing voice screamed above them. Akihito scowled as he saw the whack-a-mole guy pointing at him from the windows.

“Leave.” The raven haired alpha said over his shoulder. He was still standing protectively in front of Akihito. But Akihito doesn’t listen. The flames of his anger had burnt down the last shred of his self control. He ducked to the side and aimed a heavy kick between the legs of the goatee alpha.

The goatee guy had fast reflexes, Akihito had to give him that. He dodged, barely missing Akihito’s kick, but Akihito was quicker as he followed through with his second strike.

Before the goatee guy could see it coming, Akihito’s fist slammed into his abdomen with full force. And exactly half a second later, Akihito’s other first landed on the goatee guy’s cheekbones, sending his glasses flying. All he saw was red. Anger, that every alpha he had encountered had treated omegas like shit, and anger, at his own helplessness when he was weak and could do nothing but watch. He was just pulling his hand back to permanently rearrange the Goatee guy’s face when his arms were stopped.

Cool fingers grabbed his wrists tightly, and an angry voice hissed in his ear.

“You need to leave.”

The moment Akihito heard the voice, it pulled him out of the red mist that so often controlled him when he was angry. He blinked in surprise, then all of a sudden, the feeling of the ground beneath his feet vanished. His vision titled, and a cloudless expanse of clear blue filled his vision. At first, his eyes were taken away by the beauty of the petals dancing amidst the blue backdrop, but then the shouts of surprise brought him back to his senses.

By then, the black haired alpha had already kicked off the ground and jumped on the high walls surrounding the school effortlessly.

While carrying Akihito in his arms bridal style.

As soon as the young man made a soft landing on the other side of the wall, he dropped Akihito onto his feet.

“Leave,” he repeated, his tone final, leaving no room for argument. His eyes were hard. If it was anyone else hearing that tone, they would have no doubt scuttled away by now.

But the words simply rolled off Akihito with absolutely no effect on him.

Akihito gaped at him. The whole process has been so fast that his mind had barely kept up with what had happened, but now that his two feet were back on the ground, his initial surprise abetted and indignation and embarrassment replaced it. “You- What the hell do you think you were doing?!” To be carried like that, Akihito had no face to show to the rest of the gang.

The young alpha’s eyebrows pulled together seeing Akihito’s uncooperative attitude. He opened his mouth, but the commotion on the other side of the wall disrupted him.

“They went over the wall. Catch them!” Thundering footsteps could be heard coming towards them.

The young man clicked his tongue in annoyance and without answering Akihito, he grabbed his hand.

The moment their hands touched, a bolt of electricity ran through Akihito’s hand. Akihito gasped as both of their hands jerked from the contact. An expression of surprise mirrored on both of their faces, before the golden-eyed alpha set his jaws and wrapped his hands around Akihito’s once more. The place where they were touching seemed to be burning.

Then they sprinted into the bright spring morning. The young man was fast, with his damn long legs, but Akihito had no problem keeping up. Giving the severity of the situation, that he had invaded one of the most elite high school in Japan and attacked a son of a probably-very-important figure either in the government or the corporate world, he should probably be panicking at the amount of trouble he would be in, but for some reason, his heart felt light, and everything around him seemed to be more colourful and brighter than before.

They both finally stopped when they reached the middle of a bustling street. Strands of the young man’s carefully combed dark hair had fallen into his eyes. He roughly pushed them back before turning towards Akihito, his jaw tight, which only helped highlight his cheekbones and show off his jawline.

“Why do you never listen?”

“What is that supposed to mean? ”Akihito pulled his hand back and scowled, “I didn’t ask for your help. I could have beaten them on my own.”

The young man narrowed his golden eyes. “They are professionals.”

Akihito shrugged. He knew but that doesn’t mean he was going to admit he couldn’t defeat them. Well, not all of them, anyway.

“Why did you help me? You’re an alpha.”

The young man seemed visibly confused. “What’s that got to do with me helping you or not?”

“Alphas think they are superior right? Like that hairy gorilla guy with the ugly goatee earlier. You think the rest of us are below you.”

His golden eyes hardened a fraction when Akihito mentioned the arrogant guy.

“Don’t put me in the same league as Sakazaki. That doesn’t mean all alphas act like that.”

Akihito snorted. “Sure, you might pretend that you are nice at the beginning, but in the end, you’ll leave. Someone I know deserted me once he knew he was an alpha and I was an omega. I hope that asshole lives happily ever after.”

The alpha suddenly stiffened, a flash of pain entered his eyes before he shifted his gaze away.

Akihito felt that he said something that shouldn’t have been said, but the sun can start orbiting around the moon before he apologies to an alpha.

They looked in the opposite direction, neither one willing to break the awkward silence between them.

That was when Akihito caught sight of a small figure standing hesitantly amongst the throng of people. The little boy looked left and right, his big eyes welling up with tears as he looked helplessly around him.

Akihito walked up to the child.

“Hey kid, can’t find your parents?”

“My mother… I can’t find her.” The boy’s voice was trembling from holding back his tears.

“Mother, huh,” There was a twinge of sadness in Akihito’s voice, but before anyone could take note of it, he squatted down so he was eye-level with the small child, and smiled brightly, patting the boy on his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you to find her!”

At first, the boy looked relieved, but as soon as he saw the bat Akihito had in his hand, his lips quivered and broke out into tears.

“I want my mummy!”

“Hey- wait! Why are you crying?!” Akihito tried to soothe the child, but to no avail. He turned around and looked at the young man in a panic, “Hey you! Don’t just stand there, do something!”

The young man looked as if Akihito asked him to summon up a pink elephant and alien and teach them waltz.

An old lady ambled up to them and clicked her tongue, “Young people nowadays, you think it’s alright to skip school and hang around in town and cause a ruckus at this hour of the day?” She took one look at the crying child and raised her voice even higher, “And exhorting money from an elementary school kid! Shame on you! This is why society is going downhill nowadays! I’m going to call the police and they’ll sort you out!”

Akihito was just about to argue that it wasn’t his fault that society is the way it is now when the old lady’s hand shot out with surprisingly nimbleness and wrenched the bat out of Akihito’s grasp.

“Hey! Give that back!”

But the old lady turned up her voice to maximum volume, so it sounded as if she was speaking through a megaphone.

“Talking back to your elders now, are you?! And what are you doing walking around with a weapon like this, threatening upstanding citizens like myself in this area?”

By now, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them. Akihito knew it wasn’t good for them to be attracting attention now, but he wanted his bat back.

“Look, I’m not threatening anyone with it, I-“

“What’s going on there?” A voice shouted from afar, and Akihito saw a policeman patrolling the area running towards them.

As if reading his intentions of wanting to grab his bat back, a hand pulled him back and dragged him away.

‘Hey wait! Let me go! I need that bat!”

But the young man didn’t let go. After dragging a struggling Akihito along a few streets, he finally released Akihito.

Akihito turned to run back the moment he was free, but he had hardly taken a step when he froze.

…

Where was he?

Glancing left and right, he saw designer boutiques lining up the wide pavement, and foreign cars whizzing along the road.

There was no way he could find his way back to where they were.

Akihito clutched his head in his hands and let out a groan. He was going to be so much trouble for losing that bat. He wanted to put it back before anyone found out that he took it, but now…

Seeing that Akihito was no longer running away, the young man said, “We should go somewhere inside for a while. They might be searching in this area soon.” After saying so, he walked off, as if expecting Akihito to follow him.

Akihito contemplated not following the young man, but he wasn’t familiar with this part of Tokyo at all. After all, no one without at least 100,000 digits in their bank account would come to this area.

He sighed.

With no other choice, he walked behind the other boy.

Everywhere they went, passersby turned their heads and did a double take at the young man. Akihito scowled. Sure, even amongst alphas, the young man was pretty good looking, with his tie yanked down and collar loosened, but he has flaws too, like…

…

Akihito couldn’t come up with any imperfections. And that irritated him even more.

There’s no way someone has no flaws. Maybe his height? But he was pretty tall. Then his face? Nope, it seems as if God had forsaken the rest of humanity’s appearance after creating one masterpiece.

Because Akihito was so deep in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the boy in front of him had stopped in his tracks and walked straight into him.

“Oww,” Akihito complained, rubbing his nose. At least he smelled good-

Wait, what?

Shocked at his own thoughts, he realized a second too late that the other boy had already veered off course and into a building.

He looked up at the building. The bright lights displaying the word ‘cinema’ shone down on him.

Akihito quickly darted inside the building. The smell of popcorn greeted him. By the time he stepped inside the foyer, the black haired boy was already at the ticket counter. Turning to Akihito, he asked, “Are there any films you want to see?”

“Yeah sure, are they still screening Barbie or My Little Pony?”

The young man gave him a deadpan look, then turned back to the lady at the booth.

“Then two tickets for the next film that’s screening.”

The lady smiled at them both kindly, and handed them their tickets.

“Please enjoy.”

Akihito walked up to him when he saw he paid for both of them. “How much was it? I’ll pay for my own.” He moved to put his hand in his pocket, but-

Shitttttt

His hand came up empty.

He had left in such a hurry this morning that he had forgotten his wallet.

“I-uh…”

Akihito shifted his feet, eyes gravitating towards the ground, suddenly finding a spot on the carpet really fascinating.

“I kinda...uh…”

The young man simply handed Akihito his tickets, along with a wad of notes.

“The concession stand is over there. I will wait for you at the entrance of the screen.”

He spoke curtly, and before Akihito could protest, he had already walked off.

Akihito stared at the bills in his hands, eyes wide. Holy crap, he must be rich. The black haired guy still seemed a bit angry, but Akihito brushed it off his mind and headed towards the snack stand.

When Akihito came back, the raven haired boy raised his eyebrows. In fact, all the cinema goers did a double take when Akihito walked past them.

He was holding a jumbo pot of popcorn. Balanced on top was a super sized hot dog and a small tray of takoyaki. In his left hand he was holding a cup of soda, and dangling between his fingers was a bag of candy floss. His trousers pockets were also bulging.

He shrugged when he saw the other boy staring at him.

“I didn’t have breakfast.”

Miraculously, or perhaps, incredibly, Akihito was able to walk down their aisle without dropping a single popcorn. He stopped short when he arrived at their designated seats.

“...”

“What is it?”

“No way. No way in hell am I gonna sit in that.”

What Akihito was referring to was a special seat for couples. The red sofa-like seat was heart shaped and there was no armrest in between.

Just looking at it made Akihito shudder.

Why the hell would they give them that seat?!

He stormed out of the screen.

“I want a change of seats.”

The lady at the booth looked flustered. “Ah, uhm, my deepest apologies, but there are no more vacant seats.”

“Is that delinquent causing trouble?”

“Maybe he wants to watch it for free and is harassing the poor girl.”

I can hear you, Akihito turned and scowled at the other movie goers whispering behind his back.

A hand yanked his collar.

“Hey- what are you doing?! Let me go!”

So once again, Akihito was dragged away, back towards the screen and into the seat.

“Did no one tell you it’s rude to drag someone?” Akihito glowered at the other man.

“Then don’t make a big scene, unless you want to be kicked out.” He sat down, and faced the screen, putting an end to the conversation.

Armed with no more options, Akihito sulked in his seat.

But they were in such close proximity that everytime they moved, their knees would brush, so Akihito sat like a stone, only moving his hands from the food to his mouth.

The movie seemed to be a romance one, something about a pair of childhood friends finally reuniting, a jealous stalker that comes with the package because the male lead was too handsome, and an unnecessary side character that keeps trying to steal the limelight.

Akihito was bored. Corny romance movies like these made his lone brain cell want to self-destruct. Especially that scene when one of them got kidnapped and got left on a stranded island, and the other braved through blazing gunfire and somehow could miraculously operate a helicopter and save the other person.

Maybe it was because of the film, but a certain memory from his past surfaced up, a memory that he had hardly thought of anymore.

When he was young, he made friends with another boy slightly older than him. He thought they were best friends, but after they got their tests back on their secondary gender, and he told his friend that he was an omega, the other boy slowly then completely dropped contact.

Probably thinks he’s too great to play with an omega.

What was that boy’s name again? Asami Ryuichi right?

...

Suddenly, the popcorn in his mouth felt like sand. The bucket of popcorn tumbled from his hand, spilling loudly across the ground. Several heads turned towards them, but Akihito couldn’t care less right at this moment. He jerked his head towards the person sitting on his right so hard that he nearly got whiplashed.

Didn't the Goatee guy call him Asami? Akihito raked through his memory hard. But it was all a blur since that weird time-stop moment had happened.

“...What’s your name?”

The black haired boy’s mouth thinned, as if Akihito had asked him a question he didn’t want to answer. His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

The glare of the light from the screen should have turned his face into an unattractive landscape of washed out colours, but it only made him more beautiful.

Just when Akihito thought he didn’t hear him and was about to ask again,

“...Asami.”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Akihito’s heart took the expressway straight to his stomach. His jaw dropped to the floor.

So that’s why he looked uncomfortable when Akihito mentioned the person he knew from his childhood, they were the same person!

“Why didn’t you say that you were Asami earlier?!”

Unable to contain his shock, Akihito inadvertently raised his voice.

The other movie watchers turned to them in shock.

“Did he say Asami?”

“The Asami?”

“No way!”

The whispers spread like a ripple across a still lake. Asami stood up abruptly and exited the screen. He didn’t say another word until they were both outside the building. Akihito followed behind without a word, slightly regretting his outburst. Then, with a furrow in between his brows, Asami said with a voice that carried an exasperated resignation.

“Do you have to cause a commotion everytime you go somewhere?”

“Hey, that wasn’t on purpose!” Akihito said reflexively. Or rather, heard himself say. His mind was still reeling at the revelation.

But it wasn’t surprising that the other people were shocked. The Asami family was famous. It was an old family, with their influence extending to everywhere from politics to business. And they were one of the wealthiest families in Japan.

They walked aimlessly down the street in silence.

A thousand questions burned in Akihito’s throat, and a thousand questions extinguished in his mouth.

What should he say? How have you been? Or, why did you leave?

The betrayal after so many years still stung, but everytime he saw Asami, the questions died. There was something different, something untouchable about Asami now, that made him seem so different from the young boy that lived in Akihito’s memories.

A loud rumble echoed.

It seemed that Akihito had done too much thinking.

Asami turned back, his eyebrows raised.

“Are you still hungry?”

“Hey,” Akihito raised both of his hands, “I didn’t even get to finish eating the food I got before we left the cinema.”

Akihito's eyes trailed around, and landed on a golden arch of the letter ‘M’.

“There, let’s go eat there.”

He probably has never been into a fast food restaurant before. Akihito sniggered inwardly. Payback number 1.

Akihito grinned at Asami, “Though there’s no knife or forks there. Are you sure you are going to be alright?”

Asami shot him a withering look, then headed inside.

But to Akihito’s surprise, instead of looking uncomfortable, Asami walked up the counter and ordered without any hesitation.

The person at the counter placed a cup of sundae on their tray.

“Here, it’s a free special sundae for couples when you buy two or more deluxe meals because it’s White Day.”

...It’s White Day today?! Of all days to meet with Asami again. Akihito facepalmed inwardly. But Asami didn’t seem bothered. He took the tray, and sat them at a table near the corner. He pushed three burgers with fries towards Akihito, and only took one for himself.

His long elegant fingers unwrapped up his burger. He looked so refined, so out of place in a cheap burger chain, and if Akihito didn’t know Asami, he would have thought Asami was a model shooting a commercial.

At that moment Asami glanced up, his eyes met Akihito’s.

“Eat.”

Embarrassment coloured Akihito’s cheeks at having been caught staring. He quickly stuffed the burger in his mouth.

Still, after the three burgers, Akihito stared at the sundae. It looked delicious. Strawberry sauce dripped enticingly off the soft peaks of the ice cream.

Asami must have seen him staring at it with sparkling eyes because he said, “You can have it.”

“All of it?” Even when saying so, Akihito was pulling the cup towards himself.

The first mouthful was bliss, and a content smile naturally spread across Akihito’s face. But all too soon, the cup was empty. Akihito leaned back in his chair, his hunger finally abated. Now that they had both finished eating, the silence made Akihito shift uncomfortably in his seat. His fingers fiddled with the empty cup. He was just thinking about how to break the silence when Asami beat him to it.

“What were you doing there this morning?”

For a brief moment, Akihito’s mind pulled up empty. Then he stiffened as he remembered the reason and that he was with an alpha himself. A sour taste entered his mouth, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“That goatee gorilla guy harassed my friend's girlfriend. He forcefully used his pheromones on her and made her go into heat. Luckily Takato arrived in time, but who knows what would have happened if he didn’t.” The cup got crushed in his fist.

Asami was silent, then, “You should stay away from him.”

Akihito’s anger started to simmer up again. “Didn’t you hear what I just said he did? No way in hell am I gonna let him off the hook for what he did.”

“It’s not your problem, is it?”

“Takato’s like my brother, so of course it’s my problem! Plus, his attitude pisses me off, you heard what he said-“

“Don’t go near Sakazaki.” An edge had entered Asami’s voice.

Akihito sat back, folding his arms. He wasn’t about to back down. He glared at Asami. “Are you protecting him?”

Asami looked disgusted at the very idea.

“Then what’s your problem with me-“

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“That doesn’t scare me-“

“Akihito.”

The air surrounding them suddenly became thin. Akihito’s mouth snapped shut.

“Do. Not. Go. Near. Him.”

Asami’s words were flat, cold. He spoke slowly, but there was no masking his anger. His golden eyes burned into Akihito’s, preventing Akihito from looking away, and for once, Akihito was at a loss for words. Asami held his gaze for a few more seconds, then he stood up, taking the tray to the nearby trash can.

The silence returned, and neither of them made any attempts to break it. Akihito’s mood was black and refused to look at Asami. Did Asami expect him to smile, nod his head and go, “Yeah, sure, I won’t.”?

Asami made no move to break it either. He simply walked out of the restaurant and along Main Street and flagged down a taxi. Seeing Asami talking to the driver and handing him a wad of cash, Akihito had just decided to turn around and blindly walk around until he was at a familiar place when Asami pushed him inside the taxi.

He leaned against the car door frame, his eyes capturing Akihito’s, and said, “Remember what I’ve said. Don’t go near the school or Sakazaki again.”

“Now wait a damn minute you-“

He closed the door to the taxi before Akihito could say any more.

Then, he spun on his heel and strode away briskly, disappearing into the crowd of people, and the taxi pulled away.

*****

The moment Asami closed the door to his room, he slumped onto the ground, all the energy leaving his body.

Why, why did he have to appear again now of all times?

[winchester-fantasies]

Backtrack - Summer of ‘98: Chapter 5

Backtrack Masterlist

Series Summary: What if you were the one Dean came to instead of Lisa? Rewrite of “Swan Song” and some of S6.

Word Count: 1765

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, possessive Dean

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter. I wanted it to be longer but with me getting sick I just wasn’t up to writing a ton. Thank you all for being so patient and supportive of this series and for your understanding and kind words about this chapter being late. 💕 Next chapter is gonna be juicy! 😉 Chapter 5′s song: My Heart Is On Fire by Asta.

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

“What are we doing here?” you asked, looking around at the thick grass blanketed in darkness.

“You’ll see,” Dean smirked, sending you a wink before climbing out and opening your door. He took your hand before leading you to the front of the vehicle, leaning back against Baby’s hood. 

You looked up at the star-speckled sky, the tiny balls of light twinkling like a million diamonds. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed.

“Yeah. It is,” Dean murmured beside you. You turned your head, finding him staring at you. Your stomach flipped and your breath hitched as he moved closer, his arm coming around you securely.

He raised his hand to your face, cupping your cheek in his rough and calloused palm. “I’m not very good with words,” he whispered. “But I’d like to show you...how I feel. If you’ll let me.”

You paused, your eyes shooting between his. You nodded slightly, licking your lips nervously. Something shifted in his eyes then, a look you couldn’t quite place radiating from their mossy depths. His arm tightened around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as he slowly leaned towards you.

The moment his lips touched yours, it was as if the entire world stopped moving. They were soft and warm and his touch was gentle. It wasn’t anything like your kisses with Caleb; they had always been rough and demanding, always asking more than what you were willing to give. 

Dean’s hand on your cheek moved to the back of your neck, and when his tongue slid over your bottom lip you willingly opened up to him. His tongue found yours and you soon lost yourself in the taste of him.

You didn’t question him as he gently lowered you to your back on Baby’s hood, his arm coming to rest under your head while his other draped across your waist, his knee slotted between your thighs. You wound your arms around his neck, one hand carding through his soft hair and massaging the back of his neck. 

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, just exploring one another. But when Dean finally broke the kiss, your breathing was heavy and your heart was racing. You’d never had someone kiss you like that and it was a little overwhelming.

“God, I could do that all day,” Dean whispered, his hand coming to your cheek again and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “It was good,” you said shyly, biting your lower lip.

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Just good?” he asked. “Looks like I’m gonna have to make another go of it, because I’m pushing for great,” he teased, a cocky smirk crossing his lips.

You giggled again, but your laughter was soon cut short as he leaned down again, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one just as tantalizing. Blood was rushing to your head and your skin was heating up, but even the heat of the moment wasn’t enough to stave off the chill of night. Dean pulled away and helped you off the hood when he felt you shiver, leading you to the back door of the Impala and holding it open for you. You slipped inside, Dean following close on your heels, shutting the door behind him. 

You laid back on the leather seat, Dean crawling over you. You spread your legs, allowing him to settle between your thighs comfortably before he took up where he’d left off. 

Dean’s mouth left your own, and he trailed kisses along your jaw and peppered your face with kisses. He abruptly dipped down, softly kissing your neck, testing the waters. You moaned at the sensation, turning your head to give him better access and silently giving him the okay to continue. You felt him smirk against your skin before he did it again, this time more confidently.

You moaned as he sucked a mark behind your ear, your hands once again weaving through his hair, keeping him close. You shifted and arched your back as his lips trailed over your shoulder and along your collarbone. Dean groaned softly at the movement and that’s when you felt it - his erection - pressing firmly against your core. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you tensed. Dean must have sensed the shift, too, because he pulled back, a look of concern evident on his face even in the darkness. 

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked, his thumb running gently over your hip.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “It’s just, um…. I’ve never…. Well, I’ve never had sex,” you finished quickly, your cheeks turning red.

“Sweetheart,” Dean said, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I would never ask you to do something you weren’t comfortable doing. That’s a big step. We’ll take things slow. Because right now, here, with you….” He trailed off, a lazy smirk crossing his plump lips. “This has gotta be Heaven.”

You grinned, your heart swelling with emotion and pulling him down for another kiss.

**********

When you finally paused for a much needed break, both of your mouths were red, swollen, and tender. The first light of dawn was peeking over the horizon, casting the field around you in a soft and golden hue, and you thought that the morning couldn’t get any better.

“You hungry?” Dean murmured, his face nestled into the side of your neck.

“Yeah, a little,” you said, playing with the hairs at the base of his skull. 

“I don’t wanna move, though,” Dean groaned, burrowing himself deeper between your thighs and wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Was kinda hoping you’d say no.”

You giggled and hugged him close before pressing against his chest, forcing him to get up. “Yeah, but we can’t stay here all day,” you argued. He grumbled again, but he finally conceded but not before pressing a soft kiss into the skin of your neck.

A while later Dean pulled into a diner, one of your favorites in the next town over. You’d forgotten you’d mentioned it to Dean on one of your dates, and you were pleasantly surprised that he’d remembered.

Dean led you inside, choosing a table near the back, letting you slide into the booth first before scooting in after you. His arm immediately came around you, pulling you into his side possessively. 

“What can I get you two?” the middle-aged waitress asked, a pleasant smile on her face.

“Two of your breakfast specials, a couple coffees and whatever pie you have,” Dean ordered for the both of you.

“You got it, sweetie,” she said before putting your order in and returning promptly with the coffees and two slices of cherry pie. 

You both dug into the pie, the sweet and tangy mixture heavenly. “This is delicious,” you commented, taking another bite.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, nodding his agreement. “Hey, you, uh, got a little...right there,” he said, gesturing to the corner of your mouth. You swiped at it and held your face up for him to inspect. He shook his head. “Nope, still there. Here let me help.” He suddenly leaned forward, crashing his lips to yours in a wet and sloppy kiss. 

“Dean!” you playfully reprimanded, slapping him lightly on the arm. 

“What?” Dean asked with a loud laugh. “You know I had to.” He tugged you close, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, grinning and leaning into him.

“Hey, (Y/N).” 

You glanced up, the smile on your face fading instantly, and your stomach filled with dread. “Caleb,” you clipped.

Dean tensed at the name of the guy who had broken your heart, and his arm came around you a little tighter as he eyed Caleb with contempt. 

“So…” Caleb said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “How you been?”

“Fine,” you said back unceremoniously. “How is, uh, what’s-her-name?”

Caleb swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ashley,” he said with a thin-lipped smile. “Ash and I…. We broke up.”

“Oh,” you said, the feeling of...nothing, surprising you. A few months ago you would have been elated to hear that Caleb and Ashley had broken up, a part of you hoping for a second chance. But you felt nothing. Not even empathy. Maybe it had something to do with the man beside you, you thought, glancing at Dean whose face was hard as he continued to stare Caleb down. 

Caleb’s eyes darted between you and Dean before finally settling back on you. “So who’s this?” he asked, jerking his head in Dean’s direction as if he wasn’t even there. Dean’s expression grew darker, and you could tell he was on the brink of saying or doing something he probably shouldn’t. But one touch of your hand resting on his thigh quieted him and you felt him relax. But only just a little.

“This is Dean,” you told Caleb. “My boyfriend.” The words left your mouth before you could even stop yourself. 

Caleb’s eyes widened, and Dean’s head jerked around to you, his face wearing a shocked expression.

“Oh,” Caleb said, words escaping him. “Uh, congrats I guess…. See you around?”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, not really answering him, before you watched him walk away. Only then did you realize Dean was still staring at you. You felt your cheeks redden, and you withdrew your hand from his leg, twiddling your hands nervously in your lap.

“I’m sorry I said that,” you apologized. “I know it’s not true. I just didn’t think.”

“No,” Dean said, his gentle tone surprising you. You’d expected him to at least be a little perturbed. “I’m glad you told that douchebag off. And if I’m being honest…. I’d like for what you said to be true.” He cast his eyes down, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks turned pink.

A wide grin spread across your lips, and you shifted so you were facing him a little more. “You...you want to be my…my boyfriend?”

“Well...yeah,” Dean said with a chuckle, his hand running over the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “That is if you want me to.”

You grabbed his face between your hands, capturing his lips in yours. He immediately responded, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist, the other coming to rest on your hip. You wound your hands behind his head, weaving your fingers through his hair.

You were out of breath, and Dean’s chest was heaving when you finally broke the kiss. “Does that answer your question?” you asked impishly.

“Mmm, it certainly does,” Dean said, leaning down to kiss you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

Everything:

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Dean Girls:

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[waywardxqueen]

The Reason Is You: Chapter One

Post Provider. After another encounter with Mohra demons, Angel becomes human, but when Cordelia gets a vision of the Fang Gang dying in an upcoming battle he makes a deal with the PTB, who tells him that he must sacrifice a part of his future for him and his loved ones to keep his human memories. Rated M for language, smut, and violence. Eventual crossover with BTVS.

Set six months after Provider. Everyone can see how much Angel and Cordelia love each other, but the two still won't own up to their feelings for one another. When Angel has another encounter with a Mohra demon and becomes human again. When he realizes that he will be useless in an upcoming battle, he makes a deal with the Powers That Be that will prove to Cordelia how much he truly loves her. Eventual crossover with Buffy

Disclaimer: I don't own these amazing characters, if I did the show would have ended so much differently! No profit is being made off of this, it's for entertainment purposes only.

Reviews will make me very very happy!

The Reason Is You

Chapter One

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless" Cordelia tried to sound cheerful, but she was exhausted from the previous night. It was nothing new these days, she felt like she hadn't stayed in her own apartment in months. The business was booming, which was a good thing, but balancing saving the world with visions from the PTB and helping raise a now crawling baby was exhausting; still, she wouldn't trade it for the world.

After she took down the potential client's information, she grabbed her coffee mug and went to get herself a refill. That's when she noticed them, the green-skinned man like demons who came crashing through the doors of the Hyperion Hotel.

"Angel! We've got company!" she yelled towards the back office, where Angel had just gotten Conner to take a nap. Wes was off consulting with an old friend about a prophecy he had recently translated, Gunn and Fred were out to lunch, leaving the vampire with a soul and the part demon seer alone. When Angel bolted from the office and saw the three demons, a look of shock instantly covered his usual brooding face."You have to destroy the jewel on their forehead," he said flatly, catching the sword that Cordelia had tossed his way. He'd encountered these demons before, but that was a day only he remembered. In seconds the demons were tried to get the advantage, all three coming after Angel. It was their mission, what they were hired for. Assassin demons, just another day at the office. Cordelia ran to grab another sword from the weapons cabinet but was stopped when one of Mohra demons threw her into the front counter, screaming in pain she kicked the demon hard enough that he stumbled backward while she jumped back to her feet, ignoring the pain from the gash on her head. Looking behind the counter she grabbed the first thing she could find, Wesley's newest prized possession, a priceless ax that had an inscription carved into it. Without hesitation she swung it around, causing it to slice through the demon's neck, taking its head completely off. When the green glowing blood sprayed everywhere, she gave Angel a disgusted glare before using all of her force to smash the red jewel on its forehead with the ax.

Quickly she ran over to where Angel was cornered by the other two, one which had already used its nails to cut through the vampire's shirt, which was now soaked in blood, Angel kicked that one away, sending it flying towards Cordelia and the blood-covered ax, the brunette seer then gave the demon the same treatment as she had given his friend, while Angel killed the other. Once the fight was over Cordelia rushed over to him, worried about the strange look on his face.

"Our blood mixed" was all he could say, Cordelia gave him a clueless glance as she helped him to the couch to patch him up, not worried about her own bleeding wound on the back of her head.

"If that's that worst that happened, I'm going to say get the hell over it.." she mumbled as she collapsed next to him. As if it were on cue, Gunn and Fred came through the door, instantly worried when they saw the three headless demons dead on the ground

"What the hell happened here?" Gunn asked, seeing his two slime-covered friends exhausted on the couch

"The same thing that happens at least once a week, nasty demons broke in and tried to kill us." The hazel-eyed woman glared, looking down at her ruined clothes, "and this shirt was new! God I don't get paid enough for this..." she grumbled, wincing in pain as Fred touched the back of her head to see where the blood was coming from.

"I'll get the first aid kit.." the petite girl spoke, looking at Angel who still had an awed kind of look on his face."How did you know how to kill them anyway?" Cordelia questioned, looking over at him.

"One almost killed me and Buffy the last time she was in town.." he admitted, looking over at the woman who had taken out two of the demons by herself. Her eyes widened as her mouth suddenly formed a perfect 'o' shape. After Cordelia had learned that he lied about sleeping with Darla, part of her terms to forgive him was that he had to confess everything he had lied to her about, including when twenty-four hours of her memory was wiped because of his last encounter with a Mohra demon. Now they both shared the same concerned looks.

"What aren't you telling us..?" Gunn was suspicious now as he saw the worried looks wash over his friends, "they're dead so it's done.."

"Whose first?" Fred looked between the two, only nodding as Angel pointed to Cordelia.

Neither one of the two answered, it wasn't Cordelia's place to tell, and Angel didn't know how to explain that as they sat there he was quickly becoming human. He could feel it already, the blood pumping through his veins as his heart slowly started to beat once again. Cordelia on the other hand was dealing with an entirely different range of emotions. Happiness for him, but selfish hurt for herself; she had no doubt that now that he was human he would run off to find Buffy, taking Conner away so that he could have the life he always wanted with the slayer he had been in love with for years. She didn't complain about the pain as Fred stitched up her gash, when it was done she stood up without saying a word, walking off to the office to check on Conner.

The eight-month-old was sleeping peacefully when she got there, he hadn't woken up at all during the fight. She tried to fight the tears that started to form when she saw the sleeping baby, but she lost the battle against herself. As the tears began to fall she let her fingers softly run through Conners's baby soft hair.

"I'm going to miss you more than you can possibly know little guy.." she whispered, being careful not to wake him. Wiping away stray tears she left the office, not looking at anyone as she mumbled something about going home to clean up. She was about to lose the two most important people in her life, and she had no idea how she'd be able to go on without them.

Hours passed, and after taking a shower, changing into clean clothes, Cordelia still didn't go back to the hotel. She couldn't take hearing all of the excitement over Angel being human, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he was off to Sunnydale. It would hurt too much; she couldn't handle hearing his plans. So instead she stayed curled up with a blanket on her couch, thinking about what her future would be like now. A seer without her champion, a surrogate mother without her child, a lonely twenty-one year old without her best friend and the man she was in love with.

She ignored the knock at the door, not wanting to face anyone just yet. Tears kept falling as she thought about everything that had happened in her life since running into Angel nearly four years ago. Everything they had been through together, the person who she had become because of him.

"Hey.." she heard a voice speak, using the blanket to dry off her tear-streaked face she looked up at him. Angel.

"I thought you'd be halfway to Sunnydale by now.." she mumbled, looking back down at her hands

"What? Why..?" he seemed to be genuinely confused by the idea when Cordelia gave him a 'why do you think' look, realization set in. "That's why you left.." he finally got it, sitting next to her he shook his head. He had to tell her the truth, she needed to know. "I'm not going anywhere," Angel promised, a soft smile forming on his lips as she looked over at him.

"Why? This is what you've been fighting for.. your redemption, becoming human.." a sniffle caused her to stop speaking for a second, "you have the chance to be with the woman you love, to give Conner a family.. why stay?" Angel couldn't believe what he was hearing, was she honestly that clueless?

"Conner already has a mother" he stated, it was now or never, taking a breath he nervously set his hand on her interlaced ones, watching as she slowly let herself look him in the eyes for the first time since he told her about the demon, "I do love Buffy," he stared, causing her to flinch, "but not in the way you think. She and I tried, but it didn't work out for a reason. The reason was you." Her eyebrows raised, and instantly she pushed his hand off of her.

"Me? You're blaming me for you and Buffy not working out? I didn't do anything!" she snapped, obviously not understanding what he meant. He couldn't help but grin, only Cordelia would snap at him when he was trying to explain that she was the reason, because he was in love with her.

"Yes, I'm blaming you.." he finally said, amusement in his voice as she glared, completely unaware of his feelings. "Because you made me realize that what Buffy and I had... as great as it was, it was nothing compared to what I could have. I could never have a family with her... I could never count on her to be there for me even after I made mistakes. She's not the girl that I want to spend my life with... that I want to be the mother of my son."

"Again. How the hell is that my fault?" she seemed truly offended as she interrupted him.

"Because you are that girl." He finally told her, "the way that you are with Conner, taking care of him as if he has always belonged to you. The way that you have never turned your back on me even when I deserved it, you're wrong, you did everything.. you showed me I could have a life that I never even dreamed of because I knew I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve you, I still don't... But I'm not going to miss my chance. I love you, how do you not know that already? I am completely in love with you Cordelia and if you think I would walk away from you, or take Conner away from the only mother he will ever know you really are crazy." It was out. He told her. He watched her carefully as her expression changed from anger to confusion, to something entirely different. Her eyes were filling up with tears again, but for something different now. She didn't say anything, she couldn't, no words could possibly explain her feelings

Cordelia looked at him in a way that she never had before, a smile appearing on her face for the first time since the fight. She slowly lifted her hand up to his face, softly letting her fingers glide against his skin, before finally letting her lips crash against his. What started out as a loving, sweet, and gentle kiss instantly turned needy. Their lips didn't part an inch as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap. Their tongues challenged each other's; moving together in perfect sync. Cordelia's hands moved down his chest, carefully unbuttoning the bottom button, moving up as quickly as she could before she grew impatiently and tore his shirt open, causing the remaining buttons to pop off and bounce across the hardwood floors. Angel pulled back for a second and looked at her lovingly, an amused grin appearing on her face.

"I'll buy you a new one" she promised before her lips attacked his once again, using her hands to free him of the rest of the fabric of the shirt. The slight coldness of her hands caused him to tremble a bit when her fingers traced along his now bare chest and down to his abs. Angel let his hands move underneath her tank top against her soft warm skin, all the way up her back where he discovered that she wasn't wearing a bra, it made his grin grow wider. In a matter of seconds, the gray tank top was discarded and he had moved his lips from hers down to her neck, nibbling softly at her skin causing a quiet moan to escape her throat.

Angel picked her up, her arms and legs wrapped around him as her lips went back to his automatically while he carried her to her bed, laying her down gently before sitting next to her. She was looking up at him, her face clean of any makeup, her hair still damp from her shower. He breathed in as he took in all of her beauty, she was perfect in every single way. Then she smiled; he thought he'd melt. Her fingers interlaced with his as she pulled him down to her level, her other hand resting on the back of his head as she pulled him into another perfect kiss. Quickly he kicked his shoes off and rolled on top of her, his knees on each side of her perfectly toned body. His lips moved to her neck again, slowly moving south until he reached her full breasts, the cool touch of his hand causing both nipples to become erect in an instant. Her head was spinning, every little touch had her on edge and wanting more. As his tongue swirled around one of her nipples another soft moan escaped, his other hand was gently massaging her other breast. Cordelia couldn't think of a time where she had been so completely happy, her stomach instinctively sucked in as he continued to move his head down, kissing down to her navel. His hands slowly moved down her sides, his fingers locking on the top of her shorts and the G string she wore underneath. He paused; looking up at her as if he was asking for permission, a small nod was all he needed before he removed the remaining pieces of clothing. As he did so he lifted one of her legs, his hand running up and down the smooth surface before he began to leave a trail of kisses from her ankle to her thigh, placing her foot down on the bed. He moved her other leg apart more as he continued kissing up her thigh. His heart was racing, he had wanted this for so long and thought he'd never get it. In one swift move his tongue he tasted her for the first time. To his delight, she was already insanely wet, his tongue moved roughly between her folds, purposely avoiding her clit, knowing it would drive her crazy. Angel wanted to grin when he heard her gasp, her breathing quickening with every little touch. She tasted incredible; he couldn't get enough of her. He moved one of his hands down, backing his head away from her for a brief second, letting his fingers touch her, feeling her body shake beneath him. He continued to rub her, feeling her continue to grow wetter by the second, his thumb moved to her clit, rubbing it gently at first as his tongue went back to work. He used his other hand to spread her legs apart more before letting his middle finger slide between her folds, teasingly entering her for a second before rubbing more. Hearing her light moans and fast breathing only made him want to keep going. Angel moved his hand away from her clit, letting his tongue finally flick it just as his middle finger entered her. His hand moved up to massage her breast, his finger pumping in and out of her while his tongue roughly flicked her nub before sucking on it for a moment, feeling her hips buck slightly. She was so amazingly tight, when he let a second finger enter her he could hear her wince in pain but he didn't stop, soon enough her moans were beginning to grow louder. Her fingers moved through his hair, tugging on it as she felt herself growing closer and closer. Every time his fingers plunged into her she could feel herself about to go over the edge until he sucked on her clit again while his tongue continued to move against it. The sensation was enough to make her scream, he could feel the cum as it dripped down his fingers, didn't stop, he kept going as her hips bucked against him, her entire body shaking, and her fingers pulling so hard on his hair that he was surprised none of it came out.

Cordelia took him by surprise when she began to regain control of her body, pulling him up to her by his hair and kissing him. It was nowhere near as gentle as the first kiss they had shared, it was rough, her way of telling him just how much she wanted him. As soon as he was face to face with her again, her hands moved down his chest, stopping at his belt which she unbuckled and discarded in record time. She didn't take a beat before unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down as much as she could. Angel kicked them off, gasping when he felt the warmth of her hands wrapping around his already rock hard cock. It took all of the strength he had not to cum right then. He helped her push his boxers off while she continued to let her hand rub up and down his dick before her other hand pushed down on his back. He looked down at her, her eyes were practically begging him, the anticipation of what was about to happen made his entire body shake. Slowly he lowered himself onto her, gently entering her. Cordelia bit her lip, he was a lot bigger than anyone she'd been with. Her eyes closed as he filled her completely, it hurt for a moment, but he gave her a second to adjust. He rocked his body slowly, still letting her get used to his size, and he was still getting used to how incredibly tight she was. In all of his years, with all of the other women he'd been with.. nothing felt as amazing as being inside her. He picked up his pace a little more, but he didn't want to rush it. Each slow thrust made him feel more and more alive, he'd never felt this close to anyone. He could feel his heart beating even faster as his thrusts became quicker, rougher; he wanted to be as deep inside of her as possible. He groaned as her nails dug into his back, his lips moving to her neck, kissing, licking, and biting at it as he continued to glide in and out of her perfectly tight hole. He was surprised once again when she used all of her strength to roll them over, straddling him. She had a wild look in her eyes as she began to ride him, slowly at first but before too long her hips were moving at an incredibly fast pace. Cordelia's hands fell to his thighs, squeezing them as her back arched, bending almost into a full backbend as she continued to move on top of him.

"Damn" he groaned, completely amazed at her flexibility, he knew she was a cheerleader, but damn. It was his turn to surprise her, he sat up quickly, his hands getting a good grip on her thighs before he stood up, using his strength to lift her off of his cock before slamming back down, she screamed, and God did he love the sound of her screams in his ear. He kept going, and her moans became louder by the second. He laid her back down on her back, her legs spreading into a full split as he continued to pound her, he bent over her, using his teeth to take one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking at it viciously as she squealed beneath him, his thumb began to rub her clit quickly. As she felt herself about to cum again, she pulled him down on top of her hard, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled herself up, trying to get him as deep inside her as humanly possible. His entire body began to shake as he continued to pound into her tight little pussy, he could feel himself building up, he didn't know how much longer he could hold off. As her muscles began to tighten around his cock he forced himself to keep going, she had to get there with him. Harder, faster, deeper, her nails dug into his chest violently as she let out a moan, the feeling of her exploding all over him sent him over the edge. He kept thrusting deep into her as he started to cum, hard. Angel collapsed on top of her, still thrusting into her as he continued to cum, her tightening muscles milking him completely dry. Soon, his movements stopped altogether as he lay on top of her, both of them covered in each other's sweat, trying to catch their breath. Cordelia's eyes were closed, taking in everything from the moment, not ever wanting the wave of pleasure to stop. She smiled as she felt his lips brush against her forehead, opening her eyes for a second she stared up at him.

"Angel..?" she said quietly as he rolled off of her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Hm?" he was still out of breath when he looked over at her, smiling as he pushed a piece of her stray dark locks behind her ear.

"I love you too." Cordelia grinned, watching the look that he gave her, he was so amazed at how lucky he had gotten. He didn't say anything back to her, she knew he loved her. Instead, he just brought her closer, kissing her lips gently. Moments passed and the two just stayed there, perfectly happy in each other's arms. When the light went off Angel glanced over at Cordelia, who at that point was thinking the same thing as he was.

"Was Dennis in the room the whole time..?" he questioned, chuckling when he saw the gorgeous brunette burst into laughter.

[beautifulletdownfics]

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #27

In hindsight, given what was happening, I shouldn’t have answered my phone to the unknown number.

The week after we returned from New York was a whirlwind. Harry and I spent our first day back holed up together at his house, snoozing through jet lag and doing our laundry from the trip. I went straight back to rehearsals the day after that, fighting off a tickle in my throat I was adamant wasn’t going to turn into any kind of seasonal head-cold. Harry spent two days in his UK management office, sorting out all the paperwork and legal aspects of him working on his March EP in London with Rodger’s studio before he was straight to work writing and recording.

At some point, I would be joining him in the studio because, as Rod from his management company had alluded to in New York, Harry was hoping to include the song that I helped him with his new releases. He wanted to give me full writer's credit which I was instantly opposed to, but Harry was adamant that without being able to credit my contribution he wouldn't release the song. It was a beautiful song and as much as I was uncomfortable being included, it felt like daylight robbery to have it die because of me.

Alongside that, my dad arrived in town, and in-between my own rehearsals I managed to sneak into his and sit in on him working with the London Symphony. I spent most nights having dinner with him near his hotel and then getting the tube back to my own house because Harry was either out or had already crashed for the night and I didn’t have the heart to disturb his sleep patterns.

Between all this, it was increasingly becoming harder to ignore the chatter that seemed to be following me. I was more and more finding myself ignoring message notification on my phone, avoiding surfing any news sites, and I’d disabled what felt like every possible setting on my social media accounts. Friends from Blackpool and Cambridge were reaching out about Gavin and what he was saying, and more than a few of them were asking questions about Harry. I felt like I was the gatekeeper to some ridiculous secret everyone wanted details on, and what was making me feel sick about it was that, at this stage, the assumption in the gossip mill was simply that I knew Harry. Nobody had run far enough with the whole idea to predict I might be anything other than friends with the famous pop star.

I spent the whole week looking forward to the weekend. Friday night and Saturday were booked doing nothing in particular with Harry. Saturday evening would be spent with Harry, Rodger, Max, Gemma and Ned watching my Dad conduct the London Symphony Orchestra. And Sunday was reserved for spending at Harry’s dealing with whatever hangover resulted from the night before.

So really, answering an unknown caller on Friday just as I was about to text Harry I was on my way and walk into the tube was a stupid move.  It was almost certainly going to be someone that I definitely did not want to talk to; still, there was some part of my brain who thought perhaps it was someone from the orchestra whose number I hadn’t saved yet or a call about an appointment I forgot I made.

“Nina, as I live and breathe,” Gavin’s voice was smooth and precise in my ear, “You really did block me number, huh.”

I stopped walking and turned on my heel, trying to escape but having nowhere to go. I briefly considered hanging up out of sheer panic, but I didn’t like the precedence that set. Before I could figure out what the hell to do, he continued speaking. Holding my trumpet case in one hand and the phone in the other, I ducked into a shop alcove and stared blankly at the passing people in disbelief.

“You’re a tricky woman to get a hold of these days,” He crooned, “Shacking up with a pop star has changed you.”

"Gavin," I said, my voice shaking in a way I couldn't control, "What can I help you with?"

"Straight into assuming I need something from you," Gavin said with a tut, "I was calling to congratulate you. I underestimated you, which isn't something I care to admit."

I tried to give my voice a chipper edge, "That's big of you."

"What I can't figure out though is what he gets out of it," Gavin asked, sounding pleased with himself, "Styles doesn't strike me as needing numbers in the symphonic community."

"You don't know the first thing about Harry," I snapped quickly, immediately regretting it.

"Clearly," Gavin agreed eerily quickly, I'd played right into his hands, "Although no, that's probably not entirely fair to say. On paper, you're a catch. He'd have to have an ego on him, lesser men have fallen into the same trap."

"Gavin," I breathed out, losing my patience with his bating me. My heart was racing, and I turned back into the tube just so I could find somewhere to sit. "Why are you calling?"

"Just checking in," He said defensively, "Been getting loads of questions about you and wanted to speak to the legend herself. Couldn't believe Leon when he saw you at New Years, I was sorry to miss it."

"You're getting questions because you practically begged for the attention," I whispered quickly, suddenly surrounded by other people waiting for the train to pull up.

"Hey," He sneered down the phone, "I can share whatever the fuck I want online, hear me? It's not like Harry fucking Styles is going to sacrifice his perfect little media identity to correct the record for your sorry arse. Not that I technically said anything he needs to get his knickers in a twist about."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Gavin all but spat, "What on earth could you possibly have that I would want? It's pathetic to see really, you sucking off The Man to land that interview. Seems I was right, classical music can only get you so far ... You've had to get yourself a famous boyfriend to get anywhere."

"I was in the orchestra before Harry—"

"—Keep telling yourself that, love," He laughed.

"Gavin, just leave me alone, okay? Just ... Don't say shit online about Harry or me. You got the career you wanted, just back off mine, okay?"

"You owe me," He barked, "What on earth makes you think you can tell me how this is going to go?"

Dozens of other conversations with the same tone started layering over in my head, memories from years ago that had taken a long time to write over suddenly crashed through my mind and seized me up inside. He was just the same as always, and having been away from Gavin for so long supplied the harsh reality it—of what he had always been like—that much more jarring. I stopped speaking, which always resulted in Gavin's poison gaining momentum. I found a seat on the tube and pushed myself as far against the glass as I could, adrenalin was making my legs weak, and my eyes star.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to have my girlfriend go fucking crazy and fall off the deep end?" He continued.

"I'm not crazy," I said weakly, feeling my eyes heat and my throat constrict.

He laughed sarcastically, "Love, you went full One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we all know it. Jesus Christ, the questions I got when you fucked off. Humiliating is an understatement, I—."

With shaking hands, I held my phone out in front of my face, hearing him continuing to speak but not understanding the words correctly. I pressed the hang-up button and hurrying to go into my call log and block the number. After my phone was safely on aeroplane mode, I slipped it under my thigh and looked out the window at the black tunnel passing by, my own reflection staring back at me.

I looked crazy.

+++

I loved the London underground.

On weekend nights everyone is dressed up and smells terrific, the carriages are dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights, and there’s an air of something intrinsically seductive and winsome. Business people coming home have the relieved look of people who have earned their weekend breaks, and people on their way out have a joyous look of the pending release.

It can be so relaxing, and it's the only place in the world I have ever enjoyed the company of strangers. Because they're non-threatening, and I know they’re not expecting anything from me. I can be invisible, hiding behind anonymity and the simple fact that everyone has somewhere to be, people to meet and life to live.

I distracted myself with these thoughts as I sat on the train, swinging between digesting the call with Gavin and pretending it didn't happen by watching the people of London around me. I hadn't been paying attention to the train I got on and ended up heading in the opposite direction I usually did. I stumbled out of the carriage at some point and changed direction back into the city.

But when the Baker St underground came, I didn’t get off like I should have.

I needed to get on the Hammersmith and City line, but when Baker St came and disappeared again, and I was still firmly planted in my spot in the carriage. I did a quick calculation in my head and figured I could get off at Edgeware Rd, the next stop, and then go back.

But I didn’t.

I completely froze.

The station spun by, and the train breathed with passengers going off and new ones getting on.

Four stops came and went that way. I sat clasping my phone in my lap and trying everything I could to calm my thudding heart enough to allow me to get out at the next stop. I had to get off, I had to call Harry.

Or Max. Or Rodger. My dad. Anyone.

But I was sat on a train on the other side of London to them all. I told Harry I would let him know when my rehearsals finished for the day to see if he was still working with Rodger or if he was already heading home. If he was still with Rodger, we had plans to get dinner nearby before heading to North London where his home was. If Harry was already on his way home, I was going to get the tube to him.

An announcement came over the carriage speakers saying that the next stop, Shepherd’s Bush Market, was the last of the line and all passengers needed to disembark.

Ten minutes later, I found myself standing outside the station, trying to create an idea in my head of what was around this area. It was nearing seven o’clock by this stage, and the only thing I knew would be open was London Westfield, just a short walk away.

I put my phone into my blazer pocket, trying to forget I owned it at all, and followed the crowd into the shopping centre, my instrument case heavy at my side.

Most of the shops were shut, or closing, but the centre stayed open late for the cinema and restaurants dotted throughout.

I walked through numbly, my eyes flitting around all the different exhibits and stores. Most of them were familiar, but there was a level of comfort in the fact there were only a handful of other people I was sharing the space with. I liked being able to hear my heels click on the shiny floors, and the way the music playing through the speakers could be easily deciphered.

I recognised the Ed Sheeran song currently playing, but it was hearing another melody cut over it that halted me in my spot, and I wondered how it had been able to sneak up on me.

‘Romanza’ by Chopin.

A song more familiar to me than any pop song, one that had been familiar for years in a style that was as easy as breathing for me to inhabit.

My steps automatically quickened, and I found myself darting my gaze around, trying to follow the sound. I turned a final corner and hit what Rodger liked to refer to as the ‘Paris End’ of Westfield, where all the high end and designer stores were. The lighting up here was softer, the stores were guarded and underneath an impressive crystal chandelier was a black Bösendorfer grand piano.

There were armchairs arranged in a circle to the side of the piano, and I slowly slipped myself into one, putting my case down and not taking my eyes of the young man playing exquisitely for the whole shopping centre to hear. The acoustics were amazing.

With a small nod and a smile, he acknowledged my arrival but went back to his former state; eyes

closed, back swaying back and forward, and a blissfully serene look on his face. I was jealous of him.

The calmness of the piece eventually overtook me as well, and I rested my head back comfortably and shut my eyes to really hear what was being played. My heartbeat slowed, and the noise in my head disappeared. The scratchiness of my trousers and the damage my simple, black boots had done my feet disintegrated with it.

All that existed was a beautiful piano concerto being played, and my witnessing it.

Halfway through Debussy’s ‘Reflects Dan L’eau’ when I snapped back into the present by the bungle of three completely wrong notes, all in quick succession to each other. My eyes fluttered open and the way the shiny, reflective roof of the shopping centre took several moments to clear from my blurry eyes told me they had been shut for quite a while.

“Thought you’d drifted off, Miss,” he called out through a smile, slowing his playing and speaking over the piano. Something in the glint in his eye told me he knew messing up the notes would be the fastest way of catching my attention. His eyes fell on the instrument case at my feet.

“No,” I mumbled, sitting up straighter and watching as he nodded politely and then went back to concentrate on his playing, “I was just listening ...” I added quietly to myself.

The fact that he didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in why I was there, or why I didn’t appear to be making any move to leave pleased me. He simply went back to his playing, and I didn’t see him look my way again.

7:48pm, my phone screen read and when I turned aeroplane mode off the screen lit up with two missed calls from Harry and a string of texts, along with a missed call from Max.

5:12 Hiya, we're wrapping up now, I can swing by Southbank and pick you up for half-past? x

5:25 Sorry, make that 6. Traffic is shocking.

5:38 You're usually finished by now, everything okay?

6:10 Have I completely forgotten something I shouldn't have? Were you going to see your dad?

6:38 Babe, you're worrying me. Call me back x

He was worried, and I felt sick for it. Watching Harry's regular interactions with me and how he was going about a typical Friday night barely felt real. I didn’t know what I felt about what Gavin had said to me, but I knew that as soon as I pinpointed one emotion, the avalanche of all the rest would ensue. And following that would be an overriding sense of panic.

Panic was coming already though, seeping through the gaps and crevasses, damaging the wall blocking out what I was feeling. Because worrying about fear only brought it on faster, making it stronger. It was that double-edged sword of knowing something was coming but then inadvertently making it occur sooner.

I leant forward with my elbows on my knees and my head resting in my hands, putting all my attention on placing my feet in their black heels as close together and perfectly aligned as I could. My phone screen lit up on my lap, and my eyes were drawn to it before I could make myself ignore it.

Everything in me was screaming to call him but because I didn’t know what I would say to him I hesitated. All my mind could make my body focus on was the music swirling around me. It felt like a small miracle to have found it immediately after my conversation with Gavin, to have ended up on this armchair, under a crystal chandelier in the great hall of London Westfield listening to the greats; to Chopin, and Rachmaninoff, and Debussy, and Tchaikovsky. They were being played by a stranger I had never seen before and would never see again but for the last hour everything he had been telling me—everything he was saying through the notes his fingers were commanding—made sense to me. For the last hour, this had been my language, and he was the only other person in the world speaking it.

I looked back down to my phone on my lap. I knew what I had to do, but I didn’t want to. My chest hollowed, blood rushed to my feet, but my thumb was swiping across the glass surface despite the pooling dread.

Harry answered immediately.

“Hey, I've been worried, what's going on?” He urged in a hushed but desperate tone.

“I’m sorry, I'm okay,” I traced the line of my trousers with my thumbnail nervously. I wondered if Harry was at home or not.

I heard him take a deep breath, “You’re okay?” There were a few beats of silence, “Where are you,

Nina?”

“London Westfield,” I said softly.

“London ...” He paused, his voice almost sounding received for a moment like he could conjure a reason why I might have gone there, “Why are you out there?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered pathetically, but it was true. The line was silent for a few painful minutes.

"I'm confused."

"Can I come over?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Of course," he said quickly, "What's wrong, though? Has something happened?"

"I'm not crazy," I told Harry.

"You're not," Harry said carefully, I clamped my eyes shut knowing I was putting him in a shitty position, "What's happened? I'll come and pick you up."

“Harry, you don't need to—”

“—I'm already in the car," He told me, "Now, tell me what's wrong."

I let out a frustrated sigh and tears slip out despite my telling myself not to, "It's stupid."

"Not if you're this upset by it."

"I spoke to Gavin."

"You spoke to ... What? How? Where was he?"

"Not in person," I corrected Harry, I could hear the sound of his car in the background, "He called on an unknown number, and I was stupid enough to answer. I know I shouldn't have—

“—Nina, what did he say?” Harry said evenly, but the directness of the question hit me square in the chest.

"I don't want to think about it."

"I'm fifteen minutes away. Please tell me, I don't want this fucker getting between us."

Slowly, I recounted the phone conversation to Harry, who quietly listened without interrupting. It was more upsetting the second time around, I found myself unable to believe it happened. To think I had let myself be treated that way at any point was shameful and by the time I finished telling Harry, I very much wished I hadn't started.

"I'm sorry," Harry said through a sigh, "You're not crazy, and you don't owe him a thing. Did he threaten you at all?"

I thought back over it all, "No, but I don't think hanging upon him was a good idea. He'll say more online now."

"And he'll only look like a bigger dickhead," Harry grumbled, "Hanging up was the right thing to do, you don't have to listen to his shit anymore, Nina. I've just parked, where are you?"

I told Harry my location as best I could, not having to wait very long for him to appear in my line of vision behind the piano player. He spotted me almost immediately as well, his face pulled into a frowned, worried one that I felt guilty for creating. Still, there was a lifting inside my chest at seeing him. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, and he was in comfortable clothes. I stayed seated until he was a few steps away, and my name fell from his lips, then I was up on my feet and pressed against his chest within moments.

Harry's arms wound around my back, and he rested his chin on the top of my head, "You are amazing and beautiful and talented and so loved, Nina. What he says doesn't count anymore. We're going to get you a new phone number, and if he starts spurting any more shit online, we'll take things further."

"I feel so stupid," I said quietly. "How did I let Gavin into my life in the first place?"

Harry cupped my face in his hands and bent down to be at my eye level, "We're not torturing ourselves with those kinds of thoughts, Nina. We're going back to celebrating that article because I won't have you shrinking yourself because of anyone else, myself included."

I looked at him for a few moments, seeing nothing but sincerity and belief there.

"I should have called you earlier." A smile teased his lips, "Yeah, but you called me, so that's a win."

"I'm sorry."

Harry placed a soft kiss against my lips, "Not necessary. You hungry? I'll buy you chicken nuggets on the way home."

+++

Royal Festival Hall was completely sold out.

My dad organised incredible floor seats for the six of us. Harry and I met Rodger, Max, Gemma and Ned at a restaurant nearby for dinner beforehand, so by the time, we arrived for the performance we were all well into enjoying each other's company.

As we followed an usher down the aisle to be shown our seats, Harry shuffled up behind me and took my hand in his, "Did I say yet how stunning you are?"

"Yes," I kept my eyes ahead but tilted my mouth his way so I could say it quietly, "You did."

"Phew," He said dramatically, squeezing my fingers. "Just checking."

By some incredible force of nature, Harry managed to pull me from the rut I was sure I was destined for before it happened. We spent the night before, at his house, I had a bath, and we watched 101 Dalmatians afterwards, Harry gently prodding me every so often to measure where I was at. I cried a few more times, Gavin's harsh words ringing in my ears even when I woke up the next morning.

Harry dragged me out of the house early, he went for a run while I walked through the Heath loosely following him. He ran literal laps around me and despite all his best attempts, he wasn't able to convince me to join him for anything more rigorous.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, and it was time to start getting ready for dinner with my flatmates and Gemma and Ned, I felt reassured and nearly entirely back to normal. The ugliness still existed somewhere, but Harry managed to drag me into the present and firmly plant me there. Nothing Gavin had said to me changed Harry or me.

I took a quick photo of the stage from our seats and sent it through to my family group chat. Harry leaned over from his seat next to me and briefly dropped his head on my shoulder. He watched my screen as I sent my brother a rude emoji and then sent my dad a good luck text. I was beside myself with excitement at the prospect of watching him lead this calibre of an orchestra.

"Open your girls chat," Harry rumbled right by my ear. Without thinking I did as I was told, fingers hovering over the screen, waiting to see what Harry would say to me to type. "Tell them to keep the first weekend of February free, I'd like them to come down for my birthday if they'd like to."

"Harry," I turned my head to look at him, "Really?"

"Yeah," He nodded earnestly, "I haven't really planned anything yet, but I'll do something. I'd like them there."

"Not just for my sake?"

"Not just for your sake," Harry reassured, "They're your people, and so they mean a lot to me as well."

Ladies, Harry's birthday is in a few weeks, and he'd love it if you could make it?

"Tell them there'll be free accommodation, food and alcohol," He nudged me, nodding at the iMessage I just sent. "I'll pay for them to fly down if that's easier. They can stay at mine."

"You don't have to do that, Harry, they'll come down on the train."

Harry dropped his palm onto my thigh, "I don't want to put them out. And it's not cheap getting down here, I know."

All expenses covered, so he says. The first weekend in Feb. He's offering tours of his linen cupboard as well. x

Harry laughed as he read over my shoulder, "Good one."

"Thanks," I replied brightly, locking the phone after checking it was on silent and dropping it into Harry's suit pocket between us. "And thank you for inviting them ... You and them getting on is a big deal to me."

"I know."

"I've had to unpack a lot of shame after Gavin, and I've always been wary of what they might think of me seeing someone else, whether they’d trust me again," I told him.

Harry squeezed my thigh, "I'm happy you have them. They're mad about you."

"Mad is right," I rolled my eyes, "You may come to regret inviting them. Once there's an open bar, not a lot can stop Bel and Georgie."

He wriggled his eyebrows at me, "Sounds brilliant."

Just as I was about to reply the house lights dropped and a hush came over the concert hall. Before the announcements started I curled my hand around to the other side of Harry's face and directed it towards me, he had just enough time to blink down at me in the dark before I pulled him closer for a kiss.

"Thank you," I said, pressing my lips against his again, "You're magic."

He gave me a dopey smile and then took my hand in his, resting it on his thigh gently. I stole it back from him briefly a few moments later to join the applause for my dad walking out onto the stage. The suite was Haydn’s ‘An Imaginary Orchestra Journey’ by Sir Simon Rattle, and I knew it was one of his favourites. That was the benefit of being the level my father was, he could walk into the London Symphony Orchestra and tell them what to play.

The orchestra was led through a warm-up, bubbling my chest and had me wriggling in my seat in excitement. Then, my dad turned to face the audience and stepped up to the microphone.

“Good evening,” He said, “My name is Richard Lawrence, and I’m so delighted to be here on holiday with you from my home at the Chamber Orchestra of Europe,” He smiled as the room swelled into applause again, “Thank you. We have a fun one for you tonight, I know! An orchestra having fun what a scandal!” The players chuckled behind him, “We’re bringing you a selection from Franz Joseph Haydn’s best movements, compiled by my good friend Sir Simon Rattle. This is ‘An Imaginary Orchestra Journey’.”

He turned back to his orchestra and raised his arms, waiting for the applause to come to a close before he dramatically dropped his hands and picked them up again, bringing the opening notes of the suite with him.

It wasn’t a suite that I didn’t have committed to memory, so sitting and listening on almost new ears was transformative. The players were fantastic, which I already had insight into having sat in on a few rehearsals throughout the work. Soloists propped the whole body up, and I shivered my way through parts. My dad was right, though, it was a fun suite.

“This is so cool,” Harry whispered into my ear halfway through. I turned to face him, and in the dim light, he watched the tears streaming down my face, Harry’s lips curved up and he scrunched his nose at me. He took my hand in his and turned back to keep watching.

By the end of the performance, I was on my feet applauding dad with hands in the air, and my makeup all cried off. I got a wink and a wave from my dad who searched us out in the audience at final bows. Arrangements were already made about where we needed to go afterwards to meet him, given that there were so many musicians in the greenrooms going backstage was tricky, I was given instructions as to how to get into the conductor's studio.

After giving my name at a fire exit, an assistant led us through greenrooms to a back suite that sat under the stage.

"This is incredible," Harry said, stepping in behind me and taking in the room, "This is definitely one of the best green rooms I've ever been in."

"It's pretty swish," My dad said happily from the other side of the room, his suit jacket draped over the small sofa, "I suppose if I pretended it might feel quite rock and roll."

"You were amazing, dad," I told him, rushing over for a hug, "Your players were incredible, and you kept them together, magnificently."

"Thank you, my sweet," He smiled, graciously accepting repeated congratulations from everyone else. I introduced him to Gemma and Ned, who both thanked him profusely for their tickets. "Now, what are you all up to now?" Dad asked us all, "I'm getting taken out by a few of the board, and I'm sure I could bring a posse such as yourselves?"

"We need to head off, unfortunately," Gemma spoke up first, "Ned is on night shift tomorrow."

Similarly, Rodger and Max both had either early work commitments or a big day ahead of them so didn't want a late night.

"We'll come," Harry offered readily, looking down at me, "Right?"

"If it's really not an issue?" I asked.

"It's absolutely not, my dear," My dad said, "And I dare say taking you both along will impress them enough to have me easily in work for the next decade. If you can just give me fifteen minutes to change and go see my players, I'll meet you in the Foyer."

The group said their farewells and Harry, and I joined them, we stood in the foyer for a while chatting. Gemma gave me a hug with the promise of catching up during the week without the boys. Then, it was just Harry, and I left waiting in a near-empty foyer.

"I stand by my comments months ago about loving seeing you cry over music," Harry told me once we were alone, resting his elbows on the cocktail table we were sitting at, "It's magic. I adore it."

I grinned, "My crying my way through our first date does make for a good story."

"I'm disappointed not to have made you cry myself with my Christmas gig," Harry smirked at me, "I have a right mind to be offended."

"Get an orchestra behind you and I just might," I returned quickly.

+++

Four days later, Harry was standing at the front desk chatting to a receptionist when I arrived at the recording studio. She spotted me immediately, and Harry followed where her attention left him for, an instant smile appearing on his face.

“Hello!” He called out to me, pushing off where he had been comfortably leaning against the desk to take a couple of steps towards me.

“Hi,” I gushed, trumpet case under my arm and a heavy backpack from rehearsals slipping off my arm.

“Let me take that,” Harry took the bag from my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug with his other arm, “Hi,” He kissed my head, and the leant back to look at me, “You get here okay?” I’d been here before to see Rodger, but instead of pointing that out, I smiled and nodded.

“I’ve got your pass,” Harry said, whipping a lanyard out of his pocket and adorning my neck with it before he took my hand and started walking, “Thanks, Jen!” He called back over his shoulder as we left the entrance.

Harry was bringing me in to work on the song that I contributed to all those months ago. I really didn’t know what more I was expected to do, from what Harry told me about his last week or so writing it was the lyrics of the song that he was working on the most. Numerous times I’d told him I didn’t need credit, but he was adamant.

“In here,” Harry directed me to a door, and he dropped my hand to prop it open for me, “After you.”

I walked in and immediately froze, there had to be at least ten or twelve people in the room. Harry nudged me in gently, making a quip about not lurking in doorways. He walked into the left where there was a large sitting area, the studio directly in front.

“Babes,” Rodger was to the right in front of the sound desk, I recognised the tech working with him who also gave me a nod.

“Hey,” I said, siding up to Rodger but throwing a tentative look back over my shoulder where Harry was in the middle of the bulk of the people in the room. “I’m—

A warm hand slipping into mine from behind, “Neens, I want you to meet some people.”

“We’ll start soon,” Rodger told me kindly, watching as I was pulled away.

Three people were working on laptops at a small free-standing table, another two on phones sat on one of the sofas, and then three men standing. They were wearing remnants of business suits they had obviously unassembled as the day went on; cuffs were folded up, ties and jackets had been shed, and collars were undone. I wondered if Harry could feel my hands shaking from the one he was holding onto, but if he did, he didn’t let on. I tried to wear a pleasant smile, but there was a sinking feeling that I was about to find myself well out of my depth.

Harry introduced me to his manager, the head of his record label and his business manager.

I felt sick.

Harry happily went on about how excited he was for today, and how this song was probably his favourite of the bunch they were working on for release. He interrupted to add more detail to my deliberately modest answer about what my schedule was like working in a professional orchestra. I hadn’t wanted to seem like I was showing off about myself in front of these arguably more impressive people, but Harry seemed giddy on the whole exchange happening. They were all lovely to me, I expected nothing less from people had chosen to work so closely with, but still, I was intimidated beyond belief and blind-sighted by them all being there at all.

“Excuse me,” I eventually managed to be courageous enough to say, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll—

—I know where it is, Harry,” I squeezed his arm, “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried out the room, and a little way down the hall before stopping at a small bench pushed up against the wall. I sat down slowly and rested my head back against the wall. I completely missed the sound of someone following me until I felt the cushion of the seat expand as Rodger sat down too.

“Really had your skates on getting out there,” He said evenly, “Everything okay?”

I pointed back to the studio a few metres away, “The head of his fucking label is in that room.”

Rodger’s expression softened, “He’s not here to intimidate you, Nina. They’re checking in on how recording is going and Harry wanted them to meet you.”

“Who the hell even has a business manager, Rodger?” I added quickly.

Rodger smiled, “Someone who’s in Harry’s position who cares about his career and the careers of the people who work for him.”

“I really don’t know why I’m here,” I hissed at Rodger. “All I did was change the key and alter a melody, and now I’m supposed to what? Pull a pop song out of my arse in front of a room full of people?”

“You fixed a dying song, Nina,” Rodger didn’t blink at my freak out, “The song is yours as far as Harry is concerned, it would be locked on a hard drive somewhere without you. Just because it feels like breathing to you doesn’t mean it’s not miraculous to the rest of us. I could never have done what you did, and neither could Harry. The song wasn’t going to exist and so if it’s going to it’s only right that you oversee it.”

“I don’t even remember what I did.”

“Liar,” Rodger shot back, “You could play it perfectly with your eyes closed, even if you haven’t thought of it since that day. Don’t bullshit me about forgetting a song, you couldn’t if you tried.”

“I’m just a trumpet player from Blackpool,” I said softly, “What am I doing here?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” He replied, “I understand Harry’s team being here is daunting, but we’re gonna go back in there, you’re going to sit in front of the piano and look super cute in the headphones, and it’ll just be you and me at the desk, got it?”

I shut my eyes and nodded, “Don’t let me look bad.”

“That would be impossible,” Rodger stood up, and when I opened my eyes, he was holding a hand down for me. "C'mon."

I let him pull me to my feet and accepted the hug he held his arms out for, "I need to do a nervous wee."

"Off you go then," Rodger chuckled, "I'll get started setting things up in there."

After using the bathroom, I spent a few moments inspecting myself in the bathroom mirror, and I decided I didn’t look half as frazzled as I felt. An excited but sickening churning in my stomach was somehow disconnected from the thoughts in my head telling me making music with Harry was going to be a good thing, probably even a great thing.

So, taking stumbled steps and breathing in almost too deeply, I fisted my hands and placed one leg in front of the other. By the time I was down the corridor and at the door to the studio, I was breathing evenly, and my stomach felt more settled than it had all day.

I walked straight in, and as I passed Rodger at the sound desk I pointed in at the piano, he nodded without removing his headphones and waved me to go in.

The studio air was fresh, but the unmistakable smell of instruments filled my lungs. I stretched my fingers out as I approached the grand piano over to one side and sat down at the stool, pushing it in further so I could reach the peddles comfortably.

"Hear me?" Rodger asked through the set when I put the headphones over my head.

I held up a thumb his way.

"Brill," He said, "Take a few to get settled, and I'll corral the troops out here."

I stared at the keys for a brief moment before placing my fingers across them, fanning through a quiet set of scales and experimenting with how sensitive the keys were when I built the volume. The sound was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the baby grand at my parent's house. I closed my eyes and played around with a few melodies, humming where I thought a voice might sit above them.

"Rodger," I said, waiting for him to look up through the glass window, "Can I open the cover?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I'll come help, it's heavy."

He shuffled into the room a moment later, flipping a few clasps around the piano and then counting down so we could lift it in time.

"Thanks," I sat back down and played a series of major seventh chords to test out how the sound changed.

"What are you thinking? We going to get into piano bashing?" Rodger asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching my hands.

"Not quite that extreme," I frowned and leaned forward to reach for the treble strings in front of me, "I think harmonic upper partials would give a raspy, ghosty sound that fits though, right? Like having violins without having to deal with violin players."

Rodger laughed at my dig, and I grinned at him, playing the melody from Harry's song while gently touching the overtone positions on the strings of the corresponding keys. A completely different sound filled the studio.

"That sounds sick," Harry appeared next to Rodger and peered into the piano cavity to see what my hands were doing. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"You are if you're Nina," Rodger hit Harry affectionately on the shoulder and then walked away citing a need to finish setting something up.

I stopped my experimenting and sat back on the piano seat, watching Harry watch me.

"Songs about pianos," He signalled softly.

I smiled at him and quickly found the opening chords of the first song that came into my head, "The piano is not firewood yet, they try to remember but still they forget that the heart beats in threes, just like a waltz and nothing can stop you from dancing."

When I paused and raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge, Harry arched his back to belt out his offering, "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday!"

"Stop! Wait," I laughed, ghosting the piano keys to find where I needed to start, "Let me play you an intro."

I played the intro to the iconic Billy Joel song once through and nodded Harry in when he needed to sing, he was smiling the whole time and miming having a harmonica up to his mouth. I stopped after the chorus and pulled my hands away from the key, wondering if this was how his time with Rodger usually went. I didn't like the thought I could be inserting myself as a silly distraction.

"Nerves flushed out?" Harry asked, showing more astuteness to where my head was at than I had given him credit for.

"Tell me where you're at with the song," I prompted him quietly, shuffling to one side of my seat and opening a space for him to join me.

"Well," Harry started, his thigh nestling warmly against mine, "I've completely rewritten the second verse and bridge—

—Tell me about it in terms of the music," I nudged my elbow into his side, "I don't do lyrics."

"Oh," He parroted, and then laughed at himself, "Right. Of course, well ... I'd like it to sound ... Hopeful?"

"So, we'll do a build," I suggested. "You're a guitar man, so I guess you'd—

—I think I want to just have the piano?"

"Just piano?" I questioned.

"Maybe not just piano," Harry swallowed slowly, "But just not be guitar-heavy. I'd like to include some ... Other instruments, I think."

"Other instruments?" I asked, amused by how hesitant he was with the term, his cheeks reddened when he realised I was mildly teasing him for his apprehension. "You don't have to do that because I'm here."

"Play it where we left it last time," Harry nodded at my hands, he cleared his throat and hummed for half a second before singing along with what I had started playing.

He sang in his chest voice, low and sweet with chilling resonance. It was truly beautiful, and I smiled at the way each line of the lyrics played perfectly into the next. Harry closed his eyes as I played into a pre-chorus of sorts, barely reaching to effortlessly switch up to his head voice for the end of each line. I watched him, so I knew when to extend the phrase or move to match his pitch, but Harry kept his eyes closed while he sang.

It wasn't until he fumbled over two lines in a row that he stopped and gave me a bashful smile, "I don't think what I rewrote fits. Let me go get my notebook and—Hey!"

I looked up toward the window to see who had earned Harry's light whine. There was a line of people at the window watching Harry and me at the piano. His manager gave Harry two thumbs up, but Harry flipped them all the bird as he joined them in the room to collect what he needed to continue.

"That sounded great," Rodger walked over to me and then launched into a whole bunch of the technical aspects of what we were about to start doing. A lot of it made sense, and I had been exposed to before, but I had questions about specific parts that he was patient in answering.

When Harry came back, he settled himself off to my left, where the recording mic was set up. He left the room again and returned with a pitcher of water and two glasses, placing it on the floor between us without saying a word. I watched him take a sip and then stepped up to the mic and slip on his own set of headphones.

"Okay, Nina," Rodger said to us through the glass again, "I've got the automatic transcription program on you, so we'll be getting the melodies down in real-time. I know," He assured me before I could protest, "You'll be able to manually edit things after. On the dark side, we're more about the recording than having a perfect transcription, yeah?"

"I didn't say a thing," I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Harry, mate," Rodger addressed him, "Let's go right through once, doesn't matter if we miss bits. Just give Nina the chance to play it out, and by the second take she'll be set."

"That's annoyingly impressive," Harry told him, adjusting where his headphones sat, "Is there a support group you can recommend?"

"I can hear you both."

"I'll get Max to put you on the mailing list," Rodger promised Harry, setting up a click track to guide our timing but then turning it right down so I could only just hear it.

Harry continued to banter with Rodger as the sound was tested, "Good, I'm going to need maximum support," he spoke into the microphone. "Test, this is a test. I am testing the microphone."

Rodger gave Harry a thumbs up and told me to play something on the piano so he could alter the levels on the boom mics positioned over the open cover. To spite them both, I started tapping out the basic tune of Ode to Joy, not looking at either of them as I did so.

I heard Rodger laugh through the headset, and Harry clapped beside me, "Genius at work."

While they both still were laughing, I switched to Mozart's Sonata No. 17, which shut them up very quickly. I looked over at Harry and gave him a smug smile as I played without hesitation or missing a note. He tried to hold my gaze, but his eyes zeroed in on my hands and were transfixed by their movements. I stopped playing abruptly, and he playfully narrowed his eyes at me.

"Yes?" I asked him sweetly.

"Put him in his place, he's a shit, Nina," Another voice spoke up.

Harry and I looked up to find his manager at the glass with a headset on, "You've never spoken wearing that before!"

"I've never felt the need to," was the reply to Harry's exclamation. "You usually behave yourself."

+++

Two and a half hours later, we had a song.

"It's beautiful," I wound my arms around Harry's waist where he had me tucked under his arm. My fingers played with the cords of our headphones where we stood together, listening to a rough cut of just Harry's isolated vocals.

"Give me a second," Rodger said, distracted by trying to layer the piano and backing vocals over Harry's track."Everyone ready?"

Most of Harry's team left throughout the afternoon, the people on phones and laptops had gone as well as the label head. Harry's manager, business manager and a videographer remained. His manager stood and came over to the desk, but the other two stayed seated on the sofa.

"Okay," Rodger decided he was sorted, clicking on his screen back to the start and pressing play.

Harry tugged the ends of my hair, ghosting his fingers up and down my neck as the opening notes filled our ears. We stood together behind Rodger sitting at the sound desk, the song playing out where we had grown used to hearing sections cut up and altered what felt like a hundred times over.

In the end, Harry hadn't entirely stayed true to his 'piano only' idea, I had managed to convince him to add in some strings which were computerised for now but would be live recorded down the track. We also ended up with bass drums to help with the build to the bridge. Throughout the afternoon, the piano part had been stripped back because I refused to let Harry's gorgeous lyrics drown in a sea of complicated notes and melodies.

The end result was a haunting but euphoric song that took Harry out of his comfort zone and showcased the raspiness and dimension of his voice. It was hopeful like he hoped earlier it would be, but it also gave voice to a vulnerable side of him. It wasn't a song with a strong personal narrative, he had written on the universal truth of life and love and the simplicity behind humanity that we rarely pay mind to.

The song ended, and Rodger slowly turned back to us, his face immediately lit up, "Look at you both!"

"What?" I sniffed, bringing the sleeve of my jumper up to my face, I craned my neck to look at Harry who had his hand covering his mouth.

When he looked down at me, Harry's eyes were wet, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. We both took in each other's faces and then started laughing. I hadn't seen Harry have such an emotional reaction to music, but I knew exactly what he was thinking about mine.

"I see tears, I've done it!" Harry did a little fist punch with his free arm.

"Excuse me," I cried out, "I cry all the damn time if anything I'm the one who's 'done it'. Look at you, you're a mess!"

"It's catching," Harry replied simply, leaning down to press one kiss on my cheek, "Thank you," he said to just me.

"The song is gorgeous," I told him.

"It sure is," He confirmed with an edge of wonder in his voice.

FEEDBACK MAKES ME NOT REGRET WRITING 8K WORDS FOR YOU

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Fanfic!

I’ve never posted any fanfic on here (and for good reason), but a recent exchange with @norroendyrd (Is it okay if I tag you when I mention you?) reminded me of this thing that’s been sitting in my documents folder since 2016. It’s the only completed ff I’ve ever written (I have no imagination -.-). 

Also, I’m German, so beware of way too many commas. Can theoretically be read as Savos/Mirabelle or Savos&Mirabelle, whichever you like.

Summary: 

Many years have passed since that fateful expedition to Labyrinthian and now that the Eye of Magnus has been brought to the college, memories haunt Archmage Savos Aren more than ever. 

They were going to die, that much was certain. Three were still left. Three. Out of six. The ruin had swallowed them all, one by one. Who was going to be be next? None of them dared to ask, but the question lingered in the back of their minds nevertheless.

Would it be Hafnar? The Nord with his fiery spirit and hearty, contagious laugh?

He was breathing heavily, his knuckles white around his favourite frost staff. He had long since run out of magicka and his blood was staining the ground with every step.

When was he going to fall? 

Or would it be the lovely Redguard woman? 

Atmah, the archmage’s brightest, Savos’ friend and rival whose wit and skill even outmatched his own? Her eyes were wet as she tried to keep herself from crying, whether it was because of the gaping gash in her leg or the sheer hopelessness of their situation, Savos could not tell. Somewhere, deep down, he hoped it would be him. The last thing he wanted was to see his remaining friends die.

Then again, he was the least injured of the three. They kept moving forward, down another cold corridor and another eroded staircase. The flood of fiends had receded and left nothing but an overbearing silence. 

At last, they reached a large wooden door. This was it. Whatever horror was waiting for them on the other side would end their ill-fated journey. And their lives. Judging by the looks on his friends’ faces, they all agreed on that. Savos shot his friends a confident smile, trying to cheer them up, only to be met with defeat and emptiness. 

“We can still make it! We’ve come this far now isn’t the time to give up.”

He could not believe what he was saying. Here they were, doomed to die because he had insisted on moving forward. And here he was again, and again he kept pushing. He did not know why. Did he just want this nightmare to be over? Did he want to give them hope? And in case of the latter, why, oh why, was it not working? 

Together they opened the old, heavy door, ready to face the end. It creaked and scraped across the ground, leaving tiny splinters of rotten wood behind. Once there was enough room they slipped through. First Hafnar, then Savos and Atmah. This chamber was a lot larger than the others. The majority of it consisted of a massive tribune, reminiscent of an ancient nordic temple. A narrow subterranean stream bled into the chamber, dampening the stale air and Savos was certain that there had to be a hole somewhere in the ceiling , for stray rays of pale sunlight illuminated the chamber. 

The room seemed to be completely empty, much to their surprise. Maybe they stood a chance after all. The three carefully looked around, searching for traps or other deadly obstacles. After finding nothing, they climbed up the stairs leading up the emporium and towards a faint breeze of fresh air and, hopefully,  much desired freedom.

“Did you hear that?”, Atmah asked.

The others turned to face her.

“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything. Savos, did you hear something?”

“Well I-”

Savos placed a finger on Hafnar’s lips.

This time he heard it too. Like knocking, somewhere on the other side of the room.

“Savos?”

The nord’s muffled voice was lost on him. His gaze wandered over to Atmah, who slowly turned to him, fear visible in her eyes.

“There’s nothing there. Maybe these walls are simply beginning to crumble. I’m sure there’s-”

The shattering of stone shook the very ground and for a short moment, Savos thought the entire room would come crashing down upon them. All three now fixed their eyes on the opposite end of the tribune where the lid of a sarcophagus had burst open, and an undead, different from the rest, rose from its ancient slumber. Its withered body was floating above the ground and the robes it wore, once beautiful, regal even, were hanging from the lich’s frame in tatters. Its face was covered by a strange, ghostly blue metal mask that shimmered in the pale light of the chamber. The staff the creature held in its hand radiated energy stronger than any they had ever encountered before. 

Savos felt the hairs on his neck rise and tried to swallow the massive knot that had formed in his throat. This was going to be a tough fight, that much was certain. Should they even try? Perhaps it was easier to resign to their fate? 

Savos was ripped from his thoughts as Atmah hurled a massive fireball at the fiend, the explosion shaking and cracking the walls. When the smoke cleared the beast stood there, unfazed and unburnt. 

Quickly, Savos summoned a fire atronach to help them out but to his surprise, it did not attack the lich. To his horror, it aimed a firebolt directly at him. 

Savos wanted to run away but his feet would not let him. He desperately wanted to cast a ward, but all his magical knowledge seemed to have evaporated. Savos closed his eyes and waited for the fire to consume him. It would all be over soon.

But the end did not come.

“Are you alright?”

As he opened his eyes he saw the remnants of his fiery servant lying on the ground. One of Hafnar’s ice spears was firmly plunged into its core.

“I-I think so. Thank you,” was all he managed to get out before-. 

“Hafnar! Get down!”, he screamed as lightning filled the room.

When his vision cleared Hafnar was gone. He panicked and looked around until he eventually found his friend shattered against the stone behind him. A trail of red splotches marked the spots where his head had met the ground. Was he dead? When Savos moved closer he could see the Nord’s chest rise and fall. He ran up to his injured friend. 

An ear piercing scream filled the chamber. 

Savos prayed that Atmah had somehow survived whatever the thing had done to her. For now he needed to focus on his wounded friend, a healing spell glowing brightly against his shaky grey hands. His heart beat faster and faster. The world around him was but a faint shadow in the corners of his eyes, forgotten and uncared for. Savos grit his teeth. His hands burned with magicka as the glow of the spell grew brighter.

“Hang on, dammit!”

But the blood kept flowing out of the slowly closing wound. Too slowly.

A pain filled moan from the other side of the room brought Savos back to reality. So Atmah was not dead. Now he had to make a decision. His healing magic was not sufficient to save the Nord, even though he was clinging to life like a starving man to a piece of bread. 

If Atmah was still alive, maybe he could save her at least. 

Or maybe he could… 

A wicked idea raised its ugly head. No, they were going to die here, together. He abandoned his efforts, got up, and sprinted across the massive chamber as fast as his feet allowed, before stopping dead in his tracks. Atmah’s body lay motionless. Her limbs were contorted in unnatural ways and her skin and hair were scorched, but still, she was breathing. Still alive. Before her, on the other side of the podium, stood the undead mage, the staff in his hand pointed at Savos, radiating and pulsating with energy.

He froze. Fear overtook him as he sensed the bright light and crackling of electricity. He wanted to scream as the lightning struck but found himself paralyzed as the shocks went through his body. All he could feel was excruciating pain. 

And the soul trap spell leaving his fingertips.

Then, all was gone. The ruin, the monster, his friends. All gone. Replaced by the ceiling of the Archmage’s quarters. His quarters. Savos sat up in his bed. The sheets and his skin was covered in cold sweat. He began rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if to clear his mind of the dream, no, memory. 

“Another nightmare...”, he mumbled, not sure if he was really awake. Maybe he had actually died that day.

He needed to distract himself somehow and got up, slowly, feeling as though his stomach was going to turn over at any minute. The temptation to open his potion cabinet and drink one that granted a dreamless sleep was strong, but he knew the risks that came with taking these potions over a long period of time. No, he would not tempt his fate today. 

Perhaps, he figured, a nightly stroll would do him good instead. 

He put on a warm, comfortable robe with fur stuffing and thick fur boots and wrapped himself into an equally warm fur cloak. He still felt cold.

He opened the door and stepped outside.

The freezing night air was a fist to the face and the archmage instantly regretted his decision. Granted Winterhold was never particularly warm, but at night the cold was  something else entirely. Dry and cutting and seeping into every pore poor enough to be left uncovered. He envied his students sleeping soundly in the comfort of their beds. 

No sane person would willingly be outside at this hour and so, the ramparts were deserted. Savos began to pace. At this time the college always seemed so peaceful. The accidents, the constant infighting, the hostility from outside... it all seemed so far away. He stopped to look at the courtyard beneath and remembered the days of old. Groups of students carrying books and other research material would hurry to their classes, others would stay outside practicing their spells and some would follow some... less honorable activities. 

Savos closed his eyes and sighed. Where had all the years gone?

Metallic creaking ripped him out of his thoughts. Startled, he turned around and narrowed his eyes. Someone was there at the telescope. Savos’ hands lit up with fire. 

“Who’s there?”, he called out. 

He could barely see a silhouette in the dark. It was a woman. Small, petite. No, it could not be. Could it? 

“Archmage? What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” 

“I could ask you the same, Master Wizard”, he could almost feel his assistant rolling her eyes at the mention of her title. 

“I’m watching the constellations and writing down their current positions so I can relate them to possible shifts in spell potency. It would be a shame to waste a clear night such as this. Especially when leading a college takes up all the time I could spend on my own research”; she shot him a sly smile “Now, Savos, your turn.”

“I simply couldn’t sleep. Sorry if my explanation is disappointing, my dear Mirabelle”, he let out a tired chuckle and moved closer. He could make out the Breton’s shoulder length brown hair, her slightly torn college robes and even the deep creases on her forehead. Surely all the recent trouble had gotten to her as well.

“You look awfully pale. Are you ill? Or is something troubling you?”, she asked. 

Was he really this easy to read? 

“No, I…”, he stopped mid-sentence. He was not fine. He knew it. And he knew she also knew it.

“I suppose there’s indeed something that’s been haunting me for a while now.” 

He looked around aimlessly as if to search for the right words to say, his mind drifting to a place and time far away.

“You see, long before I became the archmage of the college - I was only a student back then- a group of friends and I did something incredibly foolish.”

He hesitated. Should he really tell her? 

“Savos? What happened back then?”

“I am sure you’ve heard of Bromjunaar. The famous city where archmage Shalidor built his maze, which has since become the namesake of the place”, he shuffled uncomfortably. “We…”

“You went there, I know. It’s a testing ground for future archmages, isn’t it? Isn’t that why they named you archmage? Because you made it through? ”

“Yes - No, not entirely. I never entered the maze, you see. My friends and I ventured into the city instead. And what we found there…”, Savos took a deep breath. “We wanted to find treasures and knowledge, but we only found pain and despair. We were young and thought ourselves invincible. But we weren’t.” , he stared down at his feet. 

“So, these friends of yours, they’re-”, she spoke quietly, her tone betraying her carefully composed expression.

“Yes.”

It was a whisper at best and Savos was surprised she had actually heard him. Mirabelle looked at him but Savos kept averting her gaze. She reached out and pulled him closer until his head was resting on her shoulder. 

“It was I who kept pushing them forward even as they were picked off one by one. It could have ended so much sooner had I not been so stubborn.”, he paused before switching the subject. “When there were only three of us left we encountered a being within that ruin, Mirabelle. An undead unlike any I had ever seen before. And far more powerful. Even our strongest spells couldn’t harm it. It killed Hafnar and Atmah and there was nothing I could do to help them”

He nuzzled his head deeper into into the comfortable shoulder. He did not want his Master Wizard to see the tears forming in his eyes. They stood there for what felt like an eternity until Savos barely broke the silence. 

“I too should have died that day, Mirabelle.”

Another eternity passed as he awaited her response. He felt her hands grasping his shoulders before she abruptly pushed him away, but firmly kept holding onto them. Perplexed, Savos was forced to look up. She was staring at him, her brows furrowed into a frown that accentuated the already existing marks.

“But you didn’t and now you’re here.. What are you going to do about it? Jump off the ramparts? Savos, even you can’t turn back time.” she sounded determined, perhaps even a bit angry. “I know it’s hard, it’s been hard on you for a long time, did you really think I hadn’t noticed? However, no amount of regret will bring back the dead!”, her voice softened. “The best you can do now is making sure no one ever makes the same mistakes.” 

“But I-”

“I’ve had enough of your self-pity, Archmage!”

He stared at her in shock. Such outbursts were nothing like the calm, collected assistant he knew - or thought he knew-. But she had a point. What was done was done and -more importantly- he was the archmage. He still had a college to lead! Back then he had sworn there would be no more untimely deaths. And yet, how many students had fallen to a carelessly thrown fireball? An unstable familiar? A slip on the bridge? No, from now on he was going to keep that oath!

She must have noticed his confusion and added: ”Come, since you’re not going back to sleep anyway, lend me a hand with my research. It’ll get your mind off of things.”

Before he could respond she shoved a piece of parchment and a quill into his hands. “I’ll tell you what I see and you’ll write everything down.” For a moment Savos wanted to protest but then proceeded to diligently write down every little detail. She had been right again. The work was at least distracting, if nothing else.

When the first rays of sunshine rose above the horizon, the two of them, tired and half-frozen, gathered their material, ready to face whatever challenges the new day might bring.

“Mirabelle?”, the archmage began while picking up an empty inkpot.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Thank you for listening to me. So many years, the memories of what happened were dragging me down. I...I feel so much more at ease now, knowing there is someone I can confide in, if necessary.  ”

“You’re welcome to stop by whenever you need to, old friend.”

“Well, not to seem needy, but I would take on that offer this afternoon. I have something for the dragonborn. He’ll know what to do with it when the time is right.”

For a moment Savos wondered if Mirabelle had any suspicions regarding his mysterious gift but if so, she kept them masterfully hidden behind her professional facade.

“And why exactly aren’t you going to give him this present yourself?”

“You are the Master-Wizard and so much more experienced when it comes to the college’s day-to-day activities”, he smiled and walked away, feeling Mirabelle roll her eyes in annoyance.

Maybe the dragonborn can finish what I started.

Maybe he can lay my greatest mistake to rest.

Whew, if you read all of this I salute you. I might upload this to AO3 once I come up with a title... I’m not too proud of this, but given the lack of content for the Savos tag I decided I might as well upload it. Who knows, maybe it’ll make one of the five or so Savos stans happy. 

[nola-unchained]

STATS

Name: Adriana Marisa Ventura Espinosa Gender/pronouns: She/her Age: 32 Species: Werewolf, Beta Occupation: Heiress Faceclaim: Ana de Armas

HISTORY: (triggers: death)

The Ventura chain of hotels was well known all through Mexico, the family owned business having started from one small bed and breakfast, growing continuously into a brand that was easily able to rival the top hotel brands for luxury accommodations in Mexico’s most popular tourist destinations. The family was considering expanding into Cuba, which is where then-heir Fernando Ventura Reyes met and fell in love with Rosa Espinosa Abrantes. After a whirlwind romance, the two of them decided to get married and Rosa moved to Mexico to be with Fernando, stepping easily into the life as a wife of a high powered businessman. They were the picture perfect business couple, though most of the world didn’t know the truth - they were also full-blooded werewolves.

The two wolves were blessed a few years into their marriage with a baby girl; Adriana Marisa Ventura Espinosa, a feisty pup who had both of her parents wrapped around her little paw from the moment she was born. Rosa was a natural as a mother, and Fernando, though he found it difficult to express his emotions to a child, took care of Rosa and Adriana the best way he knew how, by expanding their business and building a life for the three of them, as well as stepping up and leading their pack when the previous Alpha stepped down.

That life came crashing down around them when Adriana was only 4 years old. Her mother had been pregnant with a second child and due to complications from childbirth, both Rosa and the new baby didn’t make it, leaving Fernando a broken husk and Adriana without a mother, and eventually feeling like she was without a father as well. Fernando still loved Adriana – loved her dearly, especially as she was all he had left of his beloved Rosa, but she was still a child, and one he didn’t know what to do with. So he continued to care for her the best way he knew how as he trudged through life, focusing all of his energy on the business his family had built and that he had grown exponentially.  and on the pack. Adriana never wanted for anything, enjoying the finest schooling and tutors, cared for and taught the ways of the pack by other members. The only thing that was missing was the palpable love of her father, who still couldn’t bring himself to express his emotions in any way other than showering his daughter with gifts and money.

In line with this thinking, feeling as though setting his daughter up with the best future possible, Fernando had also been pushing Adriana toward a relationship with the son of his current second-in-command, ensuring in his mind, that even when Fernando was gone, his daughter would be well taken care of. Raúl started off as a nice enough boy, chivalrous and kind, near doting in front of others, but when he was out of the spotlight he was apathetic, uncaring of what Adriana wanted or how she felt. Despite her father’s wishes, she never felt drawn to him enough to start a relationship with the other wolf, preferring instead to remain single.

When she was 19, she met Daniel Bolton – an American warlock whose kind nature and zest for life weren’t feigned at all. It would be cliché to say it was love at first sight, but it was. It took her awhile to realize he was her true mate, but still Adriana was instantly taken by the man; caught up in his happy-go-lucky attitude and craving more of the normalcy that he brought to her overly charmed life. He had a way of making her feel more like her true self than she ever had – at least since her mother had died. For the first month of their time together, Adriana flew under the proverbial radar, pretending to be nothing more than middle class at best, not wanting to change the way Dan looked at her. That all changed when Dan needed a place to crash, and knowing she couldn’t leave him in the cold, Adriana pulled some strings and got him settled into one of the suites in one of her father’s hotels. Dan now knew the truth about her real life, her father’s status as pack Alpha, but unfortunately it also meant that her father found out about Dan.

Needless to say, Fernando wasn’t impressed, even after Adri told him Dan was her soulmate. He viewed Dan as nothing more than a foolish witch with no life plans – certainly not the type of man his daughter should be with. In his mind, it was Adriana throwing away her future on a pretty face. He started to pressure his daughter into making nice with Raúl, pointing out the various reasons they should be together and how they were perfect for each other, and how happy it would make him to see her with Raúl. It was her father’s approval and hopefulness that finally broke her, as Adriana craved both so desperately that she was willing to put her own happiness on the line for him. With a heavy heart, she encouraged Dan to continue his travels after 2 years together, not wanting to put him through the heartbreak, in the hopes of gaining her father’s love and approval – something that had always felt like it was missing from her life. She continued to message Dan and call him from time to time, looking forward to getting his emails with photos from the new places he was visiting. Eventually Dan’s family called him back home, to New Orleans, and since they didn’t approve of Adri anymore than her father approved of Daniel, the two of the decided to cut off communication; which to the she wolf felt the same as cutting off a limb.

Now, a decade later and things have changed. Her father still wished she would be with Raúl for the longest time, but after a close call with the Alpha of a rival pack, he and Adriana mended their fences, finally seeing eye to eye after her whole life. When an allied pack in New Orleans, the center of supernatural activity in the United States, called, her father answered, moving the entire pack to one of the many hotels owned by his company. They still live there now, though having run into Daniel - the warlock now bitten and turned into a werewolf himself - she is with the man she always should have been, and what’s more; they have her father’s approval. Her life seems perfect, except for the encroaching darkness - the whole reason they were summoned to NoLa in the first place.

PERSONALITY:

+ Hopeful, Intelligent, Determined, Friendly

- Sensitive, Insecure, Indecisive, Complaisant

Adriana is played by Z

[bexcore]

Play Pretend

a little finn thing bc i love that dumbass! it started as a smut thing but i got bored of that so it morphed into this bullshit. look out for wait for me pt. 2 tomorrow and a little ahk something soon?? love that funky little pharaoh... 

Part Two

It was simple: I did not like Finn, but he liked me. Maybe not like in the sense that he wanted to date me, but definitely in the sense that he wanted to get in my pants. Finn was like that with every woman that so much as showed ankle skin; he was as bad as a baron from the Victorian era. He always found a way to put his hand on my waist, which I didn’t quite mind, and maybe I actually liked the way his warm palm felt against my hip. Maybe I was just touch-starved. Maybe I actually did like him, but I refused to accept that. We had a mutual sarcastic relationship, wherein I called him Flipper to spite him, and he teased me for being Tobey’s baby sister. No matter the circumstances, when Tobey radioed us to pull off into the nearest town and get a place to crash on our way to Dino’s race in Nevada, there was a half of me that was thrilled and a half that was less than so. 

Finn’s car was the best, no doubt. The bastard had somehow managed to get cooling seats in there, and I loved every second of it, especially when he liked a song that came on the radio and turned up his sound system so far that I felt the bass in my stomach. I chose to ride with him instead of in the back of Tobey and Julia’s car for this reason, but I had my heels kicked up on the dashboard and was half-asleep by the time we slowly rolled into a hotel parking lot. 

“Right,” Finn began. He leaned over and maneuvered around my legs to reach his glove box, and he popped it open as he talked. “Tobey told me to keep a low profile. Fake I.D.s, the whole thing, ya know. Here’s yours…” He passed me a card that revealed that I was a Washington state resident by the name of Maria Folger, and then he placed a pair of golden rings on my open palm. “And this.” 

I scoffed. “No,” I said instantly. “No, no. What’s wrong with being not married?” 

“Rose, I don’t fucking know,” Finn sighed. “It’s just for the five minutes it takes for us to check in. Can you pretend that you like me for five minutes?” 

“It’ll be a challenge,” I mumbled as I pushed the rings onto my finger. I flexed my hand out in front of me to admire the jewelry, and I watched Finn slip a matching band onto his finger. I began to get out of the car, but Finn said, “Hold on a second.” 

“What?” I asked. He left me without an answer as he escaped the car, and he rounded to my door and offered me his hand. “A gentleman,” I rolled my eyes, and I turned and closed the door. “Look, if it comes down to it, you’re sleeping on the couch. Got it?” 

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Folger,” Finn chuckled. I gave him a sweet smile and opened my hand, and he slipped me his fake I.D. for a second. Noel Folger. Washington state. I gave him the card back and he pocketed it once more as he tugged a duffle bag out of the trunk, and he shouldered it. “Lead the way, my luscious wife.” 

“You’d better hope there’s no sharp objects in this room,” I mumbled as I began to walk, but he moved forward and took my hand. 

“I’ll do most of the talking,” Finn whispered in my ear. “Keep your mouth shut.” 

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” I whispered back. 

His grip on my hand tightened to where I almost begged for mercy. “Christ, Flipper--” I began, and Finn’s warm breath hit my ear again. 

“Just keep quiet,” he whispered. “Look, I’ve done this more times than you have. Just ‘cause you’re Tobey’s sister doesn’t give you a free pass to be an asshole. I know you hate me and I’m okay with that, but, please, for your brother’s sake, shut up and let me handle this. Dino has people everywhere.” 

I scoffed. “Yes, sir,” I snarked, and Finn tightened his lips before setting a hard smack on my ass. 

“Don’t be a bitch,” he told me. 

“Fine, fine,” I sighed. “And, if you touch my ass again, I swear to God, I’ll sick the dogs on you.” 

“You mean Tobey, the one whose been begging me to fuck you for months?” Finn asked. “He says you’re too uptight, Rosie. Why would your own brother say you’re uptight?” 

“Gee, I have no idea,” I huffed. I would never let Finn know it, lest it inflate his already large head, but something about the smack and the condescending way he was talking to me was really doing it for me. I took a deep breath and held his hand back, and I stopped us before we entered the hotel. “Give me a kiss, darling.” 

Finn chuckled. “Now?” He asked. “We’ll be up in the room in a minute.” 

“Just one kiss, Noel,” I said and pouted. “Or are you not man enough to kiss your wife?” 

“Oh, trust me, I am,” he whispered. “And I’m man enough to do a lot more to my wife.” 

“Well,” I said cheekily and stole a kiss to his jaw. “Prove it.” 

Finn rested his hand on my cheek and softly kissed my mouth, and I smiled. “Harder,” I whispered. “Dino’s crew, inside.” 

Finn let the bag slip from his shoulder and pulled me closer to deepen the kiss. “You owe me,” he whispered when he pulled away, and he gently nudged my chin with his finger. “Which one is Dino’s?” 

“Tattoos,” I said nonchalantly. “Black shirt. I remember him from the rally a few weeks ago.” 

I watched Finn’s eyes scan the lobby as we entered, and he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Remember what I said,” he whispered as he laid a kiss to my temple. 

I nodded silently, and Finn approached the front desk. “Hey,” He said politely. “We’d like a room, please.” 

“Of course,” the lady said. “One king bed?” 

“I think so,” Finn nodded. “Yeah, babe?” 

I smiled at him and nodded. Silence, just like he said. 

“How long have you two been married?” She asked as she handed us the room keys. 

“Just over two months,” Finn smiled. 

“Congratulations,” she said. “Enjoy your stay.” 

“Thanks,” Finn said, and he quickly steered me away from the desk. “He’s following us.” 

“Really?” I asked and Finn nodded. 

“Don’t look,” he told me. 

“I’m not stupid,” I huffed. “Do they know you’re part of Tobey’s crew?” 

“I’m not sure,” Finn replied. “I don’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not good with faces.” 

The elevator opened and we stepped inside, quickly followed by the man from Dino’s crew. Finn gave him a short and courteous nod, and he hit the button for our floor. He quickly wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in close, and he softly kissed my forehead. “Can’t wait to sleep,” I mumbled. 

“I was thinking of doing something else,” Finn whispered and gently nipped at my ear. 

“Noel,” I said lightly. “That’s not—“

“So, you’re saying no?” Finn asked with raised eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes. 

“I’m not,” I replied. “Just be careful about what you say, babe. You can be kind-of a dumbass.” 

“I know,” Finn said. “But that’s your favorite thing about me: my dumb ass.” 

I scoffed. “Sure,” I laughed. 

The elevator doors opened and Finn began to lead me out, but the man reached forward and took my wrist. “Ya think we don’t know that Tobey’s going to the race?” He asked. 

“Who?” I replied as panic bubbled up in my chest. I had to stay calm for Tobey. “What’re you talking about?” 

“We’re not clueless, Rose,” he told me. “We know Tobey’s gonna race. Tell him to back off of it. Dino’s gonna win.” 

“I think you have the wrong person,” I chuckled nervously. 

“Nah, I got the right one,” he told me. “I was told Tobey’s sister with the nice ass.” 

“Hey, back up,” Finn said sharply as anger visibly gathered in his eyes, and shoved Dino’s man away. “What’re you doing to my wife?” He shoved me behind him, and I watched the exchange.

“You’re part of Tobey’s crew too, huh?” The man asked. “I’ve seen you around him. The techie guy?” 

“Look, you’ve obviously got the wrong people,” Finn said quickly. “Leave us alone, please and thank you.” He took my hand and pulled me away and down the hall, and I squirmed under his tight grip. 

“Goddamn it,” I mumbled as he shoved me into the hotel room. “I can handle myself just fine!” 

“I promised Tobey that I’d keep you safe,” Finn said. “And getting checked by Dino’s crew is the opposite of safe!” 

“I’m not a child, Finn,” I spat. “I can take care of myself! You think Tobey would let me be in the world alone without knowing how to keep myself safe?” 

“Rose, Jesus Christ, try to understand this!” Finn said quickly. “I made a promise to Tobey! I never break a promise! I promised to keep you safe and I fully intend to uphold that, but now Dino knows we’re on our way. And he knows by now that wherever you go, Tobey is a few steps in front of you. The entire thing is fucked.” 

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” I asked. 

Finn sighed and ran his hands down his face. “No, Rose, it’s not,” he said. “Just… Fuck.” 

“Just what?” I asked. 

“Just nothing,” Finn snapped. “You’re too young to understand, anyway.” 

“Hey, fuck you!” I said. “I’m twenty, I’m not ‘too young’! What’re you, like, maybe twenty-one?” 

“I’m twenty-nine but thanks,” Finn said quickly. 

“Whatever!” I cried. “What’s your problem with me? Did I do something to you to warrant you watching over me and constantly checking on me? I am not a child, Finn.” 

“You know, I do have a problem with you,” Finn told me. “The fucking problem is that Tobey is my best friend and I swore to him before he went to jail that I’d keep tabs on you. Another promise that I haven’t ever broken.”

“Oh, so you’re trying to be honorable?” I laughed. “That went out the window so long ago!”

“Rose, I swear to God,” Finn mumbled and grabbed my wrist again, but this time he tugged me closer to him and pressed my hand to his crotch. There was a definite bulge there, and my breath caught in my throat. The room was silent as hell, and I vehemently avoided Finn’s eyes. He knew. 

I sighed. Finally, I took a breath to regain my confidence, and I said, “You want me to do something about it or are ya gonna keep standing there like an asshole?” 

“You’re a brat, ya know that, princess?” Finn asked. 

“I’m a baby sister,” I said. “I’ve had years of practice.” 

Finn huffed, and he said, “If you don’t take off your pants right this goddamn second.”

**

“How was the ride?” Tobey asked, and I hugged him tightly.

“Fine,” I said. “Next time we have to cross the country, please let me ride with you and Julia.”

“Why, was Flipper not fun to hang out with?” Tobey asked. 

“Not at all,” I grimaced. “He stole all the blankets.”

“Be glad I let you in the bed,” Finn said as he passed behind me and my brother to get to Tobey’s car. He reached in through the window and popped the hood, and he examined its insides for a minute. “Hey, Rosie, c’mere.”

“What’s up, Flipper?” I asked, and Finn smiled at me. 

“I need a small hand,” Finn told me. “My hand’s too big to fit to tighten this valve.”

“You know what they say about big hands,” I mumbled and pulled my hair back, and Finn snickered. 

“You would know,” he said.

“Whatever, dick,” I scoffed. “Where’s the valve?”

Finn moved behind me and wrapped his arms around me, and he positioned his hands gently on top of mine. “Just like this,” he said softly, and I let a small giggle slip out. It was so cliche, but I loved it. I saw Tobey look at the two of us with confusion, but he turned away before I could see more. Finn moved my hands into a small crevice between the engine and fixed a loose valve that was wet with condensation, and he gave me a quick kiss on my cheek. “Thanks, princess,” he told me. 

I smiled and edged out of his grip, and I saw Tobey and Julia watching us. “So, Flipper!” Tobey called, and Finn turned to him. “When’re you guys getting married?”

“What?” Finn asked.

“Something obviously happened last night,” Tobey said. “And I know that you wouldn’t fuck my sister without marrying her. I know Rosie wouldn’t do that.”

“Well,” Finn began. “I guess I know your sister better than you do.”

[countlessimagines]

Coffee and Tears

(Not my gif!)

Summary: Support groups are all you have left.

A/N: Endgame is going to ruin everyone.

-

You had to get over it. You had to.

Watching your entire family get dusted away, you knew it was something to do with the Avengers, some type of alien attack. You lost your mother, father, little brother’s and sister’s. It was suppose to be a fun family night where you surprised them because you lived in a different state. But all you got was dust within the first hour being together.

You were completely broken and didn’t know what to do. What was left of the world was screaming, crying, chaos, and more horrific events.

A plane crashed in the field next to your parent’s home. Cars were left empty in roads. Theives raided homes. Children were found crying everywhere.

You stayed at your parent’s home, eyes blank and bloodshot, the news playing in the background - announcing the people who were well known who were missing - dead - dusted.

You stared at the empty glass of liquor in front of you, not caring enough to refill it.

A month went by, two, three.

You stayed there, not caring that much about eating but you did every so often. Not caring to turn the news off. Not caring to answer the few phone calls you had. People must think you’re gone, and you wanted to be instead of being left behind with the memories of your family being dusted away.

You eventually made your way out of the house, getting wary of seeing the faces of your family pass by as you walked around the lonely house. You flipped them over or put them face down.

There were only not so many people out and about in the city, buying necessities with cautious movements and stared. You went to the back of the store, picking out orange juice and milk. Then you grabbed chips.

You went to the front of the store and checked out with the cashier who had a dead looking face. Behind her, there were posters of different advertisements. The newest one was one that said “Where Do We Go, Now That They’re Gone?”

You looked at it for a good minute, seeing all the location information and the phone number and the times. There was a meeting tomorrow at three pm. You decided to go, not having anything else to do.

The next day, you dressed in what you had in your suitcase - clothes you planned out for each day you were going to spend with your family and where you guys were going. You swallowed the thickness in your throat and carried on outside.

You drove to the meeting location and parked in front. Debating on actually going inside was a battle in itself, you didn’t want to confront people and start crying in front of them within the span of ten minutes.

With a loud sigh, you turned your car off and walked inside the building. There were chairs everywhere and a sign similar to the poster you saw at the grocery store.

People were already sitting down while others got coffee from a simple white table. You immediately went to the coffee, knowing the lack of sleep lately would hit you eventually.

A man with a large beard gave you a half smile, but you didn’t return it and only looked down at your filled cup.

You sat down in an open seat, never shifting your gaze up once. Others eventually began to sit down and one person spoke, “Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming to this meeting. I know how hard this must have been to come here, and I appreciate your effort. If anyone would like to go first, please go ahead.”

There was a silence before a man whose voice sounded awfully familiar to you, “Hi, my name is Steve. I, uh, was contemplating actually coming here because I have a heavy conscious about this whole situation.”

You finally looked up and saw with your own eyes Captain America. The only time he was on media was when he was an Avenger then when he was an outlaw.

Biting your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something, you sank more into your seat with a long glare set on him.

“I lost a lot of friends when it happened, and I’m not even sure if some of the other people I care about are alive still. I... I feel like this is all my fault. I could have done something more.”

“You could have!” You finally shouted, not wanting to hear anymore of his words. Blaming someone was what you thought was best. Left in the dark about what actually caused this, and now there was a hero right in front of you. “Why didn’t you save everyone?”

Steve looked at you, some anger slipping through his facial expressions, “I tried to-“

“But look where your trying ended up,” You said, hot, angry tears spilling down your face. “I lost my entire family, Captain. I lost them because you and the Avengers! What good has come out of your group, huh? The New York battle? Sokovia? Now this?” You stood up, and one of the other people in the group put an arm out to stop you.

“I get it, we screwed up. I screwed up,” Steve told you, standing up as well. “We’ve tried so hard to think of ways to bring them back. We lost people, too. We have paid our consequences.”

“As well as everyone else,” You said and moved the person away, going towards Steve. “If you’re attempting to help us, Captain, you better avenge those who died first.”

-

You didn’t return to the meetings after that. It was pointless to go, you rather hid away in your parents’ home instead of facing the terrible world.

A week went by without any human contact for you, until a knock sounded at your door. Squinting your eyes, you approached the door hesitantly. Looking through the peephole, you saw the most suprising group to be in your doorstep.

You swung open the door to see a few member of the Avengers; Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, James Rhodes, Scott Lang, and... Steve.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned them with a wary look that passed from face to face.

“We seen different timelines and they all point back to you,” Natasha said and stepped forward.

“What?”

“Mrs. Rogers, it’d be best to explain this if you’re sitting down,” Scott mumbled. “It’s really shocking and a lot to process.”

“Mrs. Rogers? And I’d prefer to stand, thanks,” you said with crossed arms.

“Alright, then,” Bruce spoke with an authoritative voice. “We have the technology to view ultimate timelines, and it seems in all the outcomes where we win this battle, it is with your offspring.”

“My offspring?”

“Basically, you and Cap have a kid who will eventually be the key to defeat Thanos,” Scott explained it short and simple.

You glanced at Steve who had his head lowered, “Is what they’re saying true?”

“We didn’t come this entire way to make a joke,” Steve said and met your eyes. “But, yes, it’s true.”

“And when is this child supposed to be born?”

“Next year, so you and Steve better start liking each other,” Rhodes said.

-

It was a difficult next few months. Everyone was pressuring you and Steve to like each other and hang out, but every time you two did, it ended badly with either an argument or tears.

You paced your old bedroom one night.

“Um, excuse me?” Scott said from the door of the room, his head peaking in. “I wanted to tell you something.”

You nodded, having getting used to Scott’s advice. It wasn’t the best but you listened anyways because he seemed so confident all the time.

“I know this is hard for you, I mean, you have to be pregnant in six months,” He chuckled then saw your panicked face. “Oh, sorry... I just wanted to say that maybe you should suggest going on a walk with Cap?”

You looked at Scott with a weird gaze, not exactly keen on the idea of being alone with Steve. But, Scott knew that the two of you going on a walk was the start of your relationship.

-

The next morning, you woke up extra early because you knew Steve was always the first one up.

You found in him the kitchen, staring outside the window.

“Good morning,” You greeted him, and he gave you a curt nod and nothing else. “I was wondering... do you want to join me in a walk right now?”

Steve studied you, thinking that it was all a lie to you and simply a joke, but noticed you were serious.

“Okay.”

-

The walk started out quiet, and you racked your

brain for things to talk about.

“Who did you lose?” You whispered, the only

question that came back and forth through

your mind.

“My friends... Sam, Bucky, Wanda, T’challa, and

Vision. There were so many others, too,” Steve

replied, the sound of his boots crunching

against the pavement was the only other sound

Outside.

“I’m sorry,” You said genuinely. The first time

you never considered his feelings about it all,

and instantly blamed him.

“For?”

“Being an asshole.”

He did a short chuckle, “I get it all the time now.

Resorted to staying inside.”

“Me too, I can’t stand being around people.”

“Why did you let us stay here, then?”

“Guess I needed some type of human contact.

And we need to have a baby in a few months,”

you said, heart skipping a beat just at the

thought.

“Yeah, right,” He nodded. “Do you have any

names?”

“We get to name our baby? I figured you’d take

him away because he was a key,” You said. It

was a hard thing to think about, having to give

your child away for the greater good.

“Of course we do,” Steve stopped, turning to

you. “We get some time with him before he has

to become the key.”

You acknowledged him with a hum, and

continued on walking, “Bucky?”

“What?”

“For the baby’s name.”

Steve peered at you, a small smile grew on his face.

[kaitycole]

The Secret (My Best Friend’s Wedding: Part Five)

This is the fifth installment to My Best Friend’s Wedding which you can read or catch up on here. 

Summary: Whispers are going around the Brooks-Walker wedding about a secret kept from Drake by Riley and Liam. Here’s a flashback to all those years ago, before Riley and Drake left Cordonia during the middle of Liam’s engagement tour.

Word Count: 1913

I am so sorry that I have been MIA. Life has been hectic and a whirlwind between graduating with a BS, to starting graduate school as well as running my own business! I hope this makes up for the radio silence!

Tag List: @liamxs-world @lynn1214 @mynameiskaylabella @meswalkers-blog            @drakelover78  @gardeningourmet  @zilch3 @speedyoperarascalparty            @umccall71 @mrsdrakewalkerblog  @hopefulmoonobject @sleepwalkingelite            @annekebbphotography @jared2612  @indiacater @lodberg

“Liam, you know I couldn’t accept this.”

           “Yes, you could. You’d be a fine duchess, maybe Olivia could give you a crash course.”

           Riley rolls her eyes, “They’d be just as painless as Bertrand’s.”            Liam laughs at the sarcasm lacing her voice. He loves this woman with all his heart and he knows she feels the same.

           The limo finally arrives in front of the dutchy and when the door opens, Riley can’t help but gasp. “Liam, it’s beautiful.”

           “Just like the future duchess.” He smirks.

           “We’ll see. Before I decide I think I need a tour.” She smiles flirtatiously. The two seem lost in each other until Riley’s phone breaks it.

           “Hana or Maxwell?” Liam laughs.

           She smiles as she checks it – DRAKE – her cheeks redden, “Just Hana asking if we made it okay.”

           “I do love how much she cares for you. Glad you could make a friend while here.”

           “As do I.” She quickly opens the text message.

                       Miss you, Brooks

           She smiles before replying.

                       I’ll be home before you know it!

           *ping*

                       Still don’t know why you went in the first place.

           She knew that Drake knows she had to make it appear she was still interested in Liam until she could talk to Liam about it and away from court was her best option.

                       I’ll make it up to you when I get home.

           *ping*

                       Oh?                        What did you have in mind?

           Riley tries to conceal the devilish smirk on her face from Liam as she hurries a reply.                        Wouldn’t you like to know ;)

                       I have to go, talk soon!

           “Ready for your tour?” Liam asks.

           Quickly she turns her phone off and tucks it away, “I think so!”

           The pair follows the caretaker around as they get a tour of the dutchy. Riley is in awe at the different rooms and the immaculate decoration that covered the walls.

           “And this is the master suite.” She opens the door and motions her arm for the two to walk further in. There’s a King size poster bed with a lavish canopy hanging above it, giving the room a regal look. Liam exchanges a look with Riley, whose face is bright red.

           “I think this is our stop,” he politely smiles at her.

           “But there’s…oh…” The caretaker quickly excuses herself and hurries out.

           “Why’s this the stop? I was promised to see a stable.” She smirks as Liam’s lips crash with hers.

           “We can finish the tour later, I’d rather show you something only I can.” They back up until Riley falls back on the bed. Liam quickly slides her up, kissing down her neck as he unbuttons his shirt.

           She lets out small moans as his hands trail up her legs, stopping at her hip before raising a brow.

           “I got tired of always acting like a lady,” she bites her bottom lip mischievously.

           “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Liam says as he pulls off her skirt.

           “At least you could die a happy man.” She goes to smirk but lets out a quick moan when she feels his tongue lick her clit.

           Liam quickly pulls her legs to his shoulders and spread them wider and his tongue begins to explore the lips below her waist. As he drives his tongue inside her, Riley responds in a string of moans and he begins to softly rub her clit.

           Her hands grip the sheet tightly, her hips lift off of the bed as each stroke of the tongue brings her deeper pleasure. He can feel her getting wetter and lets her legs slowly slide down his arms as he slides his right hand up her leg. She shivers with desire and lets out a deep moan while thrusting her hips as he pushes two fingers into her.

           He slides them in and out a few times before places a finger on her lips which she quickly opens and sucks her own cum off of it.

           Liam lets out a deep moan, “I love when you taste yourself.”

           She raises a brow and winks at him while he pulls her legs, bringing her to the edge of the bed. He gently taps her hip twice, commanding her to roll over on her stomach.

           She can feel the plush carpet beneath her feet, standing tippy-toed, she wiggles her toes into the carpet.

           He runs his hands down her sides, stopping at her hips. He presses firmly on her hip bones as he grabs ahold of them, pulling them up slightly. The pressure of his palms causes her to gasps.

           Riley feels him reaching behind her before he slides inside her.

           Drake…She thinks to herself, immediately she begins feeling guilt. They had talked about telling Liam, that’s why she was here, yet there wasn’t much talking going on.

           He thrusts into her soaking wet core while he spits on his fingers, rubbing them between her cheeks, peaking her interest.  She instantly loses her breath, moaning into the bed sheet as she feels dual pleasure.

           She can feel the sheets under her are completed wet from her pussy which just adds to her deep moans. Liam grabs one of her hips and starts violently thrusting into her, causing her to groan but it wasn’t until he slid a finger to her ass, that she begins screaming his name.

           She’s never felt this pleasure before, it wasn’t entirely her first time but it was the first time he went complete in. He alternated his thrusts, hardly giving her time to recover after each one.

           He pulls his finger out, causing her to suck air through her teeth and he begins to pound into her as hard as he can, pounding out any guilty thoughts she may have had. Her screams, mixed with his quickening thrusts cause them both to reach the edge. She moves her hand underneath her and begins to rub her clit, “Oh god, fuck.”

           He can feel himself losing control, his thrusts become sloppier and he can feel her begin to lose her footing, her legs becoming weaker as he pounds his cock into her. He thrusts deep and hard into her, causing a scream before he feels her juices spill down his cock her body going limp beneath him. Liam thrusts up into her once more, filling her with his cum before gently pulling his cock out and lying next to her.

           Riley rolls over and cuddles up to his side before the two end up falling asleep.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                              

           The pair finally emerges from the bedroom after an hour-long nap and a quick round two in the shower. They are escorted to the dining hall for an early dinner, at Liam’s request.

           “This is lovely, King Liam.” She winks as the servers’ finish placing the meal in front of them.

           “I’m glad you like it Duchess Riley.”

           Her lips curl into a smile, “I haven’t accepted that title just yet.”

           “Just trying to show you what you could have is all.”

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                     

           “Drake stop pacing please, you’re making me dizzy!” Maxwell pleads.

           “I just don’t understand why she isn’t replying.” He finally stops and flops down on the couch.

           “Maybe the cell service is bad up there?” Maxwell offers.

           Drake glares at him, “I’m sure the king wouldn’t go anywhere they couldn’t reach him.”

           “Look at me, she loves you. I’m sure she’s just busy.” Hana places her hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

           “What if…”

           “Don’t even finish that thought, Drake. You know Riley, she wouldn’t do that to you.” Hana says with a sympathetic smile.

           “It’s just…” His voice breaks.

           “She’s slept with him but not you. That doesn’t mean that’s what she’s doing now.” Maxwell says, slightly inconvincibly.

           Drake stands up quickly and marches out of the room before either can change his mind. Stomping to the stables, his whole body relaxes when he sees Jameson, his prized horse.

           He pulls out the velvet box from his pocket, rubbing his thumb over the lid, “I guess it’s still just going be you and me for a while.”

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      

           The crisp evening air wraps around them as they stand on the balcony, looking across the land of Valtoria. Riley drapes her shawl over her shoulders as Liam takes her hand into his.

           “You look beautiful tonight.”

           Riley blushes, “Thank you.”

           “I had an alternative motive to bring you here, it wasn’t just to try to convince you to take it.”

           Her eyes widen and her smile stretches across her face, “And what would that be?” Her face slightly drops when she sees him get down on one knee.

           “Riley, will you marry me?” Liam asks, kneeling on one knee.

           “I can't marry you. I'm in love with someone else.”

           “…What?” He takes a step back from her, unsure he heard her correctly.

           “I came here for you…but found someone else along the way. I’m in love with Drake.”

           “…Drake?”

           “I know it’s probably a lot to take in…He’s your best friend.”

           Liam’s face turns red, “What exactly can he offer you?”

           Riley knits her eyebrows together in confusion, “…I’m sorry?”

           Liam’s face continues to turn red, “I can give you a whole kingdom, a duchy, a really good life, basically everything you could ever want. He can give you, what, a stable and a worn-down cabin?”

           “I honestly can’t believe you’re saying these things! He’s your best friend!”

           “You claim to love him, but look at what’s happened today!”

           “I..I..can’t…” She’s unable to make a complete sentence.

           “That’s what I thought.” Liam walks away, bumping his shoulder into her as he passes.

Six Weeks Later

           Riley slams her hands on the sink, I can’t believe this.

           “Ri? Where are – there you are!” Drake pops his head in the doorframe, kissing her on the forehead.

           “Oh uh, hi.” She places the hand towel over a box on the sink.

           “Are you ready? We are supposed to go to the palace for an engagement tour dinner.”

           “Yes, I’m ready.” She smirks, “I had a pretty great idea.”

           Drake stops in his tracks, “Oh yeah? Well I think all your ideas are great, what’s this one?”

           It’s now or never Riley. Now or never. “I was thinking that we should move to New York and start a life there.”

           “Silly, we are moving to New York. After the engagement tour is over, we already talked about this.”

           “I know, I just think it would be better to go now. You know, the sooner the better.” She shrugs, “Plus this whole tour is really taking its toll on me, Drake.”

           He scrunches her face in confusion, “What’s the difference in another three months, Ri?”

           Everything, she thought. “Please Drake, I wouldn’t suggest this if I thought I could wait. Plus, I think it would be better for us to get a jump start on everything.”            “Oh…well I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” He rubs the back of his neck, “When were you thinking? Next month?”

           “Actually, at the end of the week. I already have an apartment lined up as well as a few job offers for you along with the tickets purchased!”

           “Did I even really have a say?” Drake says with a chuckle trying to mask his annoyance.

           She kisses him as she walks passed him, “Trust me, it’s what’s best.”

           Best for who? Drake wonders.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Twenty Three

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

September 23rd, 2017

He thought he might get sick. He was looking at the mangled wreck in front of him. She had been there one moment, and the next...a brief flash of light, the frantic spin of tail lights as the car tried to correct itself, and it just...kept going into the night. The driver who must have known that he had hit a person getting out of a car just disappeared into the night.

She was just supposed to be changing their flat tire, why did this have to happen? Why did the car swerve, hit both her and their car, and drive away? Why was he still alive when she wasn’t? He thought he might get sick. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her body, from the blood on the metal, from the flashing blue and red lights of the police cars as strangers asked him questions.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and sobbed. He just wanted his mother, but she was dead.

May 5th, 2019

Roman woke up with an aborted scream for his mother, shaking like a leaf. He kept a hand clamped over his mouth as he started to sob. He hoped he hadn’t been too loud, he didn’t want to wake the others up, they all needed their sleep--and then there was the knock at his door and light from the bathroom across the hall streamed into his room. Dad was there, but he couldn’t fix this. No one could fix this. “Roman? Are you okay?”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dad’s concerned face for more than a second. He shook his head as he looked away, hand still clamped over his mouth as he cried.

Dad slowly came over and sat on the edge of Roman’s bed. “It’s okay to cry, Roman. You need to let the emotions out. It’s okay if other people hear you, no one will blame you for needing to cry.”

Roman coughed and tried his hardest not to puke. Dad worried his lip and walked back to the doorway. “Rem? Could you get a trash can?” he softly called.

Instantly, there were two sets of footsteps in the hallway. The steady gait of Ami, and Dee’s frantic footsteps attempting to keep up. There were two shadows moving through the light, before Ami came over with a trash can and passed it to Dad, who put it by Roman’s feet on the bed. “Do you need anything, Roman?”

Roman shook his head as more tears fell. All he wanted was his mom, but he couldn’t have her.

Dee was standing in the doorway, holding onto Ami’s hand with a vice grip. When Roman looked over, he let go of Ami’s hand and disappeared into his room, before coming back with his giant snake stuffed animal. He walked into the room slowly, and keeping his eyes fixed on Roman, he reverently put the stuffed animal in Roman’s lap. Roman nearly choked on his laughter at such a small but meaningful gesture. He took the snake in his hands and rubbed his fingers over the short “fur” the animal had been given.

Dad started rubbing Roman’s back and Roman’s tears burned his cheeks as they fell. Roman took a deep breath, then another, then turned to Dad. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s not a problem, Roman. Are you all right?” Dad asked.

Roman sniffled and rubbed his nose. “Yeah, I’m okay now. It was just a bad dream,” he whispered.

“About?” Dad pressed gently. “Roman, you know Ami and I don’t want to pry, but you showed up here one day, saying you were abandoned. You were surprised when we offered you food when you were hungry, and about the amount of chores you would do, and that we would help you with your homework. Logan, Patton, and Virgil all worry that you were abused. Did your mom...?”

“No!” Roman exclaimed. “Never. She would never hurt me. Not...not like that. She...she just left. When I needed her. And I got put into foster care when the police found out, and that’s where I had to do a lot of work, and didn’t get a lot to eat. And the horrible woman and her husband would make me take care of the younger kids, and the man would drink a lot, spending most of their money on beer. But my mother never, ever hurt me!”

“How did she leave?” Logan asked from the doorway.

Roman turned pink as he noticed Patton and Virgil standing there too, watching him like he was a ticking time bomb. He shrugged. “Does it matter? No matter why she left, or how, she’s gone now.”

Logan gently moved into the room, ushering Dee away from the side of the bed. “But how did she leave? Why? Don’t you ever wonder? Clearly, it still left an impact on you somehow. Did she leave in the middle of the night? Did she leave you behind in search of something else in life? Did you ever think you were holding her back?”

“Logan,” Dad warned, as Roman’s face turned red.

“Go to hell, Logan!” Roman exclaimed, and Patton pulled Virgil closer to him as Virgil gasped. “My mother loved me! She loved me like I was her entire world!”

“Then why would she leave you?” Logan asked.

“Because she died!” Roman exclaimed, jumping out of his bed and getting in Logan’s face. “We were coming home from shopping, and we got a flat tire! She was getting out to fix it when a drunk driver came by and hit her and the car on its way down the road! So no, I don’t question whether she loved me, you asshole, I just question why it had to be her, and not me who died that night!”

Logan stared at him cooly, face showing no emotion. Then, slowly, his eyes dropped to the floor. “I didn’t realize...”

“You didn’t realize what, huh?” Roman asked. “That the abuse came from someone other than my mother? That I could say she abandoned me without her having a say in the matter? What didn’t you realize?”

“Had I known that she had died, Roman...I would have...”

“Been gentler about it?” Roman scoffed, “You’re never gentle about things when you want to satisfy your own curiosity. And my mom dying shouldn’t be the only reason that you didn’t ask that! That would cross a line for anyone, Logan, not just someone whose mother died because of a drunk driver! You shouldn’t...you can’t make those assumptions. You can’t ask those questions. You never know who you’ll push away because of it.”

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Roman just glared at him and Logan closed his mouth with a click. “I don’t want to talk to you,” Roman dismissed. “Go ahead and sleep in your own room. We both know you actually consider people’s emotions better when you’ve gotten a full night’s rest, anyway.”

With a stiff nod, Logan left the room, slamming the door to his room next door. In an instant, Roman’s legs buckled, and Dad rushed forward to catch him just before he hit the floor. Roman could feel tears falling down again, but he was detached from it. Was he sure it was him that was crying? “Roman? Roman, I need you to look at me,” Dad requested.

Roman forced himself to look over towards Dad, even though he kinda wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor and never move again. “Okay, that’s not good. Roman? You’re dissociating. Do you understand what that means?”

Well, he knew what dissociation meant, more or less, but he didn’t understand why anyone would think he was dissociating right now. He tried to stand up, but the body he was using was...not working. He giggled manically and muttered, “I think this body needs a tune-up, can I get a trade-in?”

Dad gently pulled him to a standing position and led him over to his bed. “Okay, I think you just need some more sleep for now, Roman. If you’re feeling bad in the morning we’ll see if anything needs to be done, sound good?”

Roman hummed his understanding and got back in bed. Dee came over and gently moved the snake closer to Roman’s chest. “You can have them for the night,” Dee signed.

“Thanks,” Roman signed back. His eyelids felt like lead and soon enough, he couldn’t be bothered to keep them open.

When Roman returned to consciousness again, he sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily and yawning. He saw Dee’s stuffed snake in his lap and briefly wondered what had happened last night to prompt the stuffed animal being here instead of with its rightful owner. He picked it up and went to Dee’s room to return it, but Dee wasn’t there.

That was a little weird, because Dee never got up early. He checked the time on Dee’s clock, and his eyes bugged out when he saw it was ten in the morning. Even Logan would be awake by now!

Forgetting about returning the snake plush, he headed downstairs immediately, asking, “Guys, why didn’t anyone wake me up this morning?! It’s already ten!”

Everyone turned to look at him from wherever they were in the house. Patton and Virgil were watching cartoons, but quickly turned back to the show. Dee looked up from the book he was staring at, before averting his gaze when Roman looked at him. Logan was staring at his breakfast, resolutely not looking at him after first glance. Only Dad and Ami were bold enough to meet his gaze. “What happened? I didn’t contract the plague, did I?” Roman huffed.

“Roman, do you remember what happened early this morning?” Dad asked.

Roman frowned. “Uh...no? Why?”

“Well, you dissociated pretty badly, so I’m not really surprised about that,” Dad said. “But...”

“But?” Roman prompted.

Ami cleared his throat. “Roman, we know. About your mother.”

The forgotten snake fell to the ground. Roman’s eyes widened, and his blood roared through his ears. He took an involuntary step back. It all came crashing around him. The smells, the sound, the flashing lights and the sight of blood and his tears burning his face like fire, crying, so much crying and he could only barely remember what the car looked like because in a flash it was gone, and he couldn’t help his mother. Shouldn’t someone try and help his mother?

Dad had his hands on Roman’s shoulders and the world snapped back into place. He wrenched himself free. “Don’t touch me!” he exclaimed.

Not only had his flashbacks crashed around him, but this new home he had started to build for himself was crumbling as well. They knew. They knew what had happened, he had too much baggage, he couldn’t keep up the mask well enough. And they’d send him away, back to that terrible place where he couldn’t go to school, couldn’t have friends, where he was only good for cleaning and the occasional meal.

He was crying, and his cheeks flared red in his embarrassment. They were definitely going to send him away now. He couldn’t even pretend like everything was okay.

“Roman,” Dad said slowly. “We’re not mad at you, okay? We’re not going to send you away, we’re not upset with you. This was something you didn’t want to share with us, and we’re not upset that you didn't tell us sooner. Do you understand?”

Breathing was incredibly difficult, and understanding what Dad was saying more so. But he tried, because he knew that he should at least make an attempt. Slowly, he nodded.

“Okay,” Dad said, in the soft voice he usually used on Patton, or Virgil, or Dee when one of them got worked up. “Roman, we want to make sure you’re not going to dissociate again. Would you be okay if I gave you a weighted toy to hold?”

Again, Roman nodded. Dad moved away and almost immediately came back with a small sparkly crab that was surprisingly heavy for its size. He held it in his hands, trying to keep his hands up so the crab didn’t fall to the floor. “Okay, Roman, let’s go through some grounding exercises,” Dad said. “Can you name five things you can see?”

Roman frowned, trying to focus. “Uh...the crab, you, the floor, the couch, and the twins.”

“Four things you can feel?” Dad prompted.

“The crab,” Roman said, feeling his breathing start to slow at having a task to complete. “The cold of the floor, my shirt, and my tears.”

Dad smiled despite the situation and said, “You’re doing great, Roman. Three things you can hear?”

“The TV, your voice, my breathing,” Roman said.

Dad gave him another encouraging smile. “You’re almost done, just two more questions. What are two things you can smell?”

Roman sniffled. “Uh...whatever remains of breakfast...eggs, maybe? And...I guess how the house normally smells.”

Dad nodded. “That one’s hard. Is there anything you can taste? It’s okay if you can’t.”

“I taste salt,” Roman said softly. His cheeks were on fire from embarrassment, but he at least felt like he was real. “Can I have something to eat?” he asked, voice almost too soft to hear.

Dad nodded. “Yeah, we’ll get you some eggs and you can watch cartoons in the living room while you eat, if you want.”

[lightscameramagicrp]

—MACKENZIE FLETCHER

- age: twenty-six - occupation: editor - species: human - faceclaim: kat mcnamara

—BACKSTORY

They called it an active imagination. The little girl with the strawberry blonde hair could have sworn she had seen a monster tied up in the basement. A man whose body contorted in such a horrific way that she had nightmares about it for months. The howls waking her up in the middle of the night screaming. Her mom would rush into her bedroom, pulling her little girl into her arms, kiss her forehead and remind her that it was nothing more than a bad dream. Mackenzie Fletcher spent years awkwardly fidgeting on that couch in that therapist’s office. Something that she laughed off when she got older. She’d hide the morbid sketches of the wolf man in a box under her bed with all of the other childish toys and trinkets she had grown too old for. And for the most part? She entirely forgot about it. Why would she? Her life was good. She was happy or at least happy enough.

Being raised in a military family, they moved around a lot. They rarely stayed in one place for more than year. But, each school felt the same. The same type of cliques. Same type of people. Same 7 Eleven or sketchy parking lot where they’d all hang out in. She’d join clubs, make friends, and try a new sport or get a part in whatever play they were putting on. Her and her dad or sister would go to the shooting range on the weekends for family bounding or off on some camping trip where they’d eat s’mores and their dad would go off hunting- maybe bring back a chicken or a bunny or something. All of which Kenzi refused to eat. She chose to become a vegetarian after her dad tried to teach her to skin a rabbit when she was 10, much to her family’s dismay. And let’s not forget the great fishing trip of 2006. She’d flirt and date. Chase after the older kids in school or giggle awkwardly by the lockers. But, it never made a difference. Because once the year was up, they’d pack everything back up and off they’d go. Sure, the people she met, the friends she had, would stay in touch for a while. But, like clockwork they’d drift away. The replies would get few and far between and she’d be left wondering what happened?

At some point, Kenz stopped bothering to even unpack. What was the point if they were just going to move in a few months anyway? Only a year went by and they were still there and slowly, but surely, week by week, the brunette removed more and more items from her boxes until she was completely settled into her new room. She was fifteen and this eighteen year old boy she had a crush on had asked her to be his date to Prom. Her first Prom. Her first real dance where she actually knew everyone in attendance- where she actually felt like she belonged. She was so excited. Sure, she used to sneak out like most teenagers with strict parents do at some point or sneak someone into her room when her family was out. But, this was different. She had really liked him. Will made her laugh and smile in ways she hadn’t known to be possible. She felt like she could trust him almost instantly. She was young and naive and he had been her first love. She had spent hours getting ready for her date with the boy from film club. Her mom took practically a thousand photos of them in his front lawn while her dad scowled over their shoulder, giving the typical parental warning to bring her back on time or else.

Only he never got a chance. A whole group of them ended up leaving the dance early. There was going to be a party in the woods and one of the guys on the football team’s brother has scored them a keg. So, Kenzi climbed in Will’s car and the two of them hit the road. She turned up the radio and was singing along at full volume when Will let out a scream of pain. She tried to calm him down. She tried to grab the wheel. But, the car began to swerve and before she knew it, they crashed.

When she awoke, her head was sticky and the world felt like it was spinning. The car had been flipped over and she was strapped in, hanging upside down with a front row view as Will shifted into something unspeakable; into one of the monsters she had been sent to therapy to shove deep Ito the back of her head. She tried will herself to wake up. She was only imagining things. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. But, no matter how many times she squeezed her eyes shut, the image wasn’t going away. So, she held her breath, unbuckled her seatbelt and stumbled out of the side of the car. Her head still throbbing from the crash as she crawled away from him. Between the sounds of bones breaking and his own gruff screams, Will told her he was sorry. He didn’t think it would happen tonight. Tears and snot were streaming down his face as his bones snapped one more time. His body shifted into a wolf before her with barring fangs just before a silver bullet tore through his brain. Even now Kenz wakes up screaming at the sound of his last whimper as he body shifted back from a wolf into that a naked and scrawny teenage boy.

But, Will’s death didn’t mark the end of that night, because it was her dad was the one who shot him. He killed Will like it was nothing and the moved to hug her. He pulled her into his arms, whispered that she’d understand soon, and covered her mouth with chloroform. To find out supernaturals exist and that you were dating a werewolf when you had only believed magic to be the stuff of fiction was traumatizing enough without you dad kidnapping you, tying you to a chair as he explained that she came from a long like a hunters and leaving her there to figure her own way out. It was part of her training now that she knew. She was only a kid. She didn’t know what she wanted to eat for breakfast, let alone what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. But, was old enough to know that she didn’t want to do this.

She hated her family for lying to her. They made her think she was crazy for years and they used her. Each time they moved to a new place, Kenzi was always the perfect bait. She could close to Supernatural’s kids or species with telepathy and pathogenesis because she didn’t know anything. She was just some bright eyed innocent girl who was kind and funny and wanted to make friends. She hated her parents for they did to her, but they were still her parents. They were still her family and as much as she hated them for it, a part of her still loved them, so she went along with it. She hunted, she blamed herself for it, only to move on and hunt again. That was until she turned 18. She went to college and got out of the family business for the most part anyway, putting up a good front when she’d come home for the holidays.

Kenzi has been living in Vancouver for the past couple years as a film editor for LCM, trying to mind her own business and find where she fits in with all of this- who is she outside of who her family defined her as?