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stray-kaz · 2 years

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Between a Tree and a Lockwood : an Anthony Lockwood x f!reader oneshot

The Gist of This: Lockwood and reader are on a very human mission, but humans can be even more dangerous than ghosts. A criminal right around the corner makes the perfect time to make out, right? In other words, “Oh, shoot, we’re about to get caught, you’d better kiss me now.”

A tiny smidge of 18+

“You ready?”

You glanced up from the book you were reading to see Lockwood in the doorway, dressed down for a change. You raised your eyebrows at his soft hoodie and dark jeans, his ever present Converse in place on his feet. He was watching you expectantly, as if you had any idea what he was talking about.

“What am I supposed to be ready for?” you asked, swinging your feet down onto the floor.

Lockwood sighed and rolled his eyes.

“We have a relic to steal, remember? Flo’s paying us for it. I did tell you about it this morning, you know.”

You scoffed and stood up, leaving your book on the chair behind you.

“If you didn’t say my name, I probably didn’t hear you” you told him, coming to a stop in front of him, toe to toe.

You reached out a hand and lightly traced a finger down the front of his hoodie, from his chest to his abdomen, curious about how it felt.

“This is nice” you said, glancing up at his face in time to catch the tic in his jaw as he clenched it. “Soft. Why don’t you wear it more often?”

“It’s hardly work attire, sunshine” Lockwood muttered, lightly taking your hand to place it back down by your side.

“Then why are you wearing it now?” you asked, sunshine looping in your mind.

He shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

“Because my suit and rapier are a little too obvious.”

“Ah, so we’re undercover today” you mused, looking down at your oversized cardigan and soft woolly leggings. “Is this okay then?”

You propped your hands on your hips and spun in a dramatic circle, flinging your arms out at the end.

“Ta-da!”

When you looked back at him, Lockwood’s lips were pursed as he tried to hide a smile, his warm gaze travelling the length of you.

“More than okay” he told you. “Perfect, as always.”

That took you by surprise and you stumbled slightly, coming up short with Lockwood’s hands holding your shoulders, keeping you steady.

“Whoa, there” he murmured. “I think we had better go before you knock yourself out.”

You nodded, followed him out and collected your boots by the door, hopping down the steps as you pulled them on. Lockwood watched you with a sigh, shaking his head fondly.

“How did you ever end up as an agent?” he asked you. “You can barely put your own shoes on without falling over.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and fell into step by his side; you hardly noticed, but he always slowed his strides to make it easier for your shorter legs to keep up, his mind always one move ahead. You kind of loved him for all the care he took.

“So what is this relic we’re appropriating?” you asked. “And what happens if we find ourselves in a spot of trouble and we don’t have weapons?”

Lockwood glanced at you, reading your face; you looked completely at ease with the situation. Apparently you trusted him so innately that even the possibility of weaponless danger didn’t faze you. The notion of this simultaneously soothed and terrified him.

“I’ve seen you” he replied. “You’re pretty handy with your fists. And, besides, me, myself and my silver tongue have talked us out of many a scrape in the past.”

You rolled your eyes at his ego and bumped against him gently.

“Fond of yourself, eh, Anthony?”

Fonder of you, sunshine.

He didn’t say anything else. The weak autumn sun chose that moment to strike you and you turned your face up towards it, smiling with your eyes closed. Lockwood took his chance, pivoting so he could walk backwards and study your face at the same time. He couldn’t help but smile at the peace in your expression, black lashes sweeping over your cheekbones. Sunshine, indeed.

“You didn’t answer my first question” you said, suddenly opening your eyes to find him staring at you with something like awe.

“Oh, um, right” Lockwood mumbled, falling in next to you again. “What is the relic? A glass eye.”

You pulled a face, disgusted.

“A glass eye? That’s foul! Whose is it?”

“Probably some unfortunate shuffled off this mortal coil before their time” Lockwood answered, shrugging again.

“And why are we getting it for Flo?”

“Because the buyer she has lined up for it is paying four grand for it and she’s only taking a small cut. We have bills to pay, you know.”

“Yes, boss.”

He glanced at you again to see if you were bothered, but your expression had smoothed and you were smiling slightly.

“Do you miss your family?” Lockwood blurted out suddenly.

You glanced up at him, surprised by the question. Was he feeling insecure about something? Did he think you were going to leave? Leave George and Lucy? Leave Anthony bloody Lockwood? Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

“You’re my family” you said.

“Yes, I know, but -”

“No buts” you said quietly. “You’re my family. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

The ease with which you said it hit him with the force of a hammer and he stared at you, brown eyes wide. You stared stoically ahead, refusing to meet his eye, biting your lip hard enough to taste copper. You had confessed your feelings about Lockwood to George, but to the boss himself? You didn’t think you could ever be so stupid.

The sun was at its highest peak in the sky when you arrived at the small Sunday market Flo had told you about. You shook your head as you looked around at the tight pods of people moving from stall to stall, picking up death relics and listening to the stall owners spout chapter and verse.

“This happens on Sundays?” you said, incredulous. “That’s awful. On the Lord’s day?”

Lockwood laughed and grinned down at you.

“Relic men never sleep” he said, amused. “Not even on the Lord’s day. Come on, sunshine.”

There it was again.

The two of you wandered around, trying your best to look like everybody else’s version of normal, until Lockwood grabbed your hand all of a sudden and dragged you over to one particular kiosk, his palm a little rough and calloused against yours.

“Look” he whispered, pointing.

Pulse hammering in your ears, you followed the direction of his pointing finger and saw the rounded glass eye settled in a small bed of crushed black velvet. The iris was bright blue and it spun as you looked at it.

“Oh, yuck” you gasped, and turned your face into Lockwood’s chest, your cheek brushing the soft front of his hoodie.

As you did so, your free hand snuck out and slid the velvet casing off the edge of the table, tucking it swiftly into one of Lockwood’s jeans pockets. He jumped a little as your fingers brushed the inner seam of the pocket, but he did his best to hide it by burying his face in your hair and pretending to hush you, his other arm rising to wrap around your shoulders and anchor you to him.

“She’s fine, really” you heard him say to the vendor, who was watching you a little anxiously. “Just a weak stomach.”

Hidden by his arm, you pinched him through his hoodie and he jumped a little again, knowing there’d likely be a bruise later.

“Come along” he muttered in your ear, guiding you away from the stall and watchful eyes.

When you were a safe distance away, you took a step back from Lockwood and beamed up at him.

“I got it!” you said, dancing from foot to foot. “Yes!”

He covered your mouth with his hand as his eyes widened. Yours did, too, your lips burning against his skin.

“Shh!” he whispered frantically. “Someone’s coming!”

He glanced around and then dragged you over to a wide trunked tree, the only cover there was anywhere nearby. He pressed you against it, the bark digging into you through the thick material of your cardigan. You gazed up at Lockwood with wide eyes, his hands on either side of your head, his stomach pressed to yours.

You couldn’t think your way out of a paper bag; his closeness was dizzying, the scents of bergamot and sharp aftershave invading your senses and spinning your mind in a circle.

He looked down at you, realising for the first time just how close he was to you, his body pinning yours to the tree, your hips starting to squirm a little bit.

“Hey” he said softly, the brown of his eyes swallowed by onyx. “If we’re about to die right now, then I think it would be severely remiss of you not to kiss me first. What do you think, sunshine?”

You still couldn’t think, so you did, instead. You tugged him down to you by the silver zip on his hoodie, his lips colliding with yours, as a hitched gasp was pulled from your throat. You fisted the soft fabric of his hoodie and Lockwood melted against you, his whole body turning to heat and pressure on yours.

The creature of want that had been quietly feeding off the little soft moments with Anthony Lockwood stretched languorously and showed its teeth.

You arched against him, soft where he was angular, and slid your hands up from his chest to his hair, opening up for him and feeling your knees turn to liquid as his tongue touched yours.

He sighed into you and tucked a leg in between yours, strengthening your position. You moaned softly as the rough denim of his jeans caught and dragged between your legs and Lockwood echoed you as he started to rock slowly up into you, having by now completely forgotten how this had begun in the first place.

Footsteps rounded the tree and there was a gruff scoff and a heavily accented male voice.

“It’s just a couple of randy teenagers. Keep lookin’, it’ll be around here somewhere.”

You heard the words, but barely registered them, too engrossed in the sensation of Lockwood slipping a hand underneath your t-shirt and onto the soft skin of your tummy, slowly questing up and up.

Before he could reach what he wanted, another, much more familiar voice, interrupted.

“Seriously, Locky? There are more comfortable places to cop a feel than against a tree. Try a bed. Can I at least have the relic?”

Lockwood rummaged in his pocket and thrust the velvet wrapped glass eye in the direction of Flo’s voice, not bothering to look. She took it and pressed a wad of cash into his hand, which he then stuffed into his pocket, not breaking eye contact with you.

“What do you think?” he asked you, face flushed pink and his gaze on you like molten lava. “Shall we try a bed?”

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x female reader #lockwood and co fics #liss writes

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enviedear · 4 years

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miss moonlight, put in a word → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which draco sees the same annoying hufflepuff he’s enamored within his dreams every night, but can’t muster up the courage to talk to her in waking life. so instead he talks to the moon, telling the rock that’s miles away, everything he wants to tell her. little does he know, she does the same thing.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 3k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

its a little angsty im sorry. but im nervous abt this and have been sitting on posting it for almost a month now so please lmk if you like it :)

based off the songs talking to the moon by bruno mars and please mr sun by tommy edwards

she waves at him, her eyes holding a happy glimmer. he walks closer to her and wraps his long arms around her, pulling her close. he breathes in her scent and she giggles. it sounds like heaven. he holds her like that for what feels like forever before she pulls away.

he watches as she sits down in the grass, patting the place beside her.

“sit draco.” she commands. he complies.

“i love it when i’m asleep. you’re here and the world is so much more peaceful.” he smiles, a real true smile. not like the ones he usually gives now.

“but imagine if we were awake. the world might not be so wonderful, but we’d have each other. and the sun. and the wind. and the trees. and missus moon.” she grins, looking up at the bright blue sky.

he wants to agree, and tell her that’s all they’ll ever need. but he knows he can’t. because truth be told he needs more. he needs to know his family will be safe. he needs to know if he’ll make it out of his sixth year alive. he needs more than the sun and moon.

instead, he places his head in her lap, relishing in the way her fingers card through his hair. she sings a song he can’t place as he falls asleep.

“i love you y/n” he whispers, right before he dozes off.

that’s how the dreams usually end. he always slips off to sleep so peacefully in your arms. but when he wakes up, he’s still in the slytherin dorm, lonely and afraid.

yours end in the same way, and when you wake, you’re clutching your pillow as if it’s him. you don’t dare tell anyone about the dreams. your friends and family would think you mad. but it’s enough for you to be able to have them, even if you’re not sure if they’re shared or not.

you see the way he looks in the dining hall, potions, and in passing. he’s always so monotonous. so unlike the boy you’ve grown up with.

you of course have dreams, where he’s told you everything that has happened to him. he’s confessed to you that he’s working with voldemort, for his parents' sake. he even told you about dumbledore. but no matter how much you beg him to leave that life behind, he can't. besides, you’re dreaming all of this. who’s to say it’s even real.

so you stay away, yearning for bedtime. where you can talk to the boy you love more than anything else in the world.

you’re not sure how the dreams started but you have an idea.

and so does draco.

he reckons he must have used some sort of wandless magic the night he was thinking to himself on the astronomy tower. it had been a humid night and he was all alone. his eyes deadset on the bright moon in front of him. he had just started talking.

he knew the moon wasn’t someone that could actually listen but then again, maybe that’s what he wanted? he didn’t want someone to place any input on his situation. he just wanted to speak and let his thoughts travel into the void and maybe out from his aching head.

“i just want everything to be okay. mother deserves a son who can protect her and.. father needs me. i can’t fail. i just wish i had someone to talk to when the sun goes down. someone kind and someone warm. i know they’re somewhere out there. but maybe all i’ll ever have is you missus moon, at night when it’s just the stars to listen in to our conversation.” the boy had mumbled, before making his way to his dorm room.

you had been having a word with missus moon that night as well, alone in your hufflepuff prefect dorm. you thought yourself lucky to have a window so that you could see the stars and the moon. you were fighting sleep and had no one else to speak to, so you watched the bright yellow moon as you recounted your troubles.

“my dreams have been so bad recently missus moon. i think it’s because i’m still so scared for everyone and myself. they say the dark lord could strike any day. i’d hate for anyone i love or even myself to end up like poor cedric. i wish i had someone to talk to, someone to understand. everyone thinks i’m crazy, but they don’t know what i know. the world is getting scary. at least when the stars light up my room i have you missus moon.” you had sighed getting off the floor and laying down in your bed.

that night draco dreamt of flower fields and you. at first, the boy wondered if maybe it was real. it seemed real. he could see you and everything around you so vividly. and the same for you, you made out his platinum hair and could smell his crisp cologne. but when the two of you awoke, you knew it couldn’t be real.

until the next night, where the both of you met again in your dreams.

“are you following me?” you had asked draco.

he narrowed his eyes at you, “how could i follow you into a dream. what a stupid thing to ask.”

“you’re supposed to be nice to me. this is my dream after all.” you had pouted.

draco snorted, “i need to stop drinking tea before bed. i’m having dreams where the people in them think they’re the ones doing the dreaming.”

“but i am the one dreaming! this is my dream. i can control it, watch!” you’d grinned, before commanding a nearby tree to grow apples.

draco’s eyes had widened, “no, this can’t be right.”

you watched as he wished for the tree to grow taller before glaring at you, “smack yourself.”

you glared back at him, “no, but you can shove your fist down your throat if you’re going to be rude.”

draco circled you, “so you don’t have to do what i tell you and neither do i. strange.”

“why would i have to do what you tell me to do in my own dream?” you’d asked.

the boy had shrugged, “maybe it’s not just your dream. maybe it’s mine too.”

that’s the most the two of you ever discussed the shared dreams. after that there wasn’t a need. you both enjoyed them. both of you needed them.

once in study hall you caught draco reading a book about dreams but you didn’t ask him about it. in truth, you were too afraid to have him label you as insane.

draco found himself wanting to speak with you too. countless times. he had grown quite fond of you after the dreams he found you in every night. so in the daytime, he would sneak glances at you. he took notice if you did your hair differently or if your makeup was done. of course, he knew he couldn’t talk to you. you’d think him mad. still, he found himself dropping subtle clues to see if you’d come over to him, like reading a ghastly book about dreams in a class the two of you shared. it hadn’t worked but he could have sworn he caught you looking his way.

draco spends hours obsessing over you, the dreams, and the few glances you would give him. but the vanishing cabinet is almost fixed and he knows it’d be foolish to speak to you now. no matter how much he wishes to run into your arms and tell you to take him away from here, he won’t.

it’s a dreary day in june and you’re getting snacks for some of the first years when you hear it. maniacal laughter and breaking glass. your first thought is to check on your house. you rush into the hufflepuff common room and make sure everyone’s ok and then urge them to stay safe. they nod and bolt to their dorms.

then, you make your way to the source of the noise. the dining hall, which is torn to shreds, is crawling with death eaters. you feel lightheaded as you watch them. out of the corner of your eye, you see professor snape making his way to the astronomy tower.

curious, you quietly sneak behind him, careful not to make yourself known. you hear a voice above you. a voice you recognize.

draco.

you’re trying your hardest to figure out what he’s saying but you can’t. all the sounds around you are blending together and you can’t seem to calm down enough to hear anything. when the professor reaches the tower, underneath the scene of whatever is going on, you stay behind.

in a flash, the teacher is out of your vision and upstairs in the chaos.

“severus, please.” is all you hear before the killing curse bolts out of snape’s mouth.

you stand in shock as the footsteps trail out of the tower. draco. snape. dumbledore. death eaters. it was all so much.

“y/n! are you ok?” a watery-eyed harry potter asks from beside you. you don’t even question how he got here or if he saw what you did. instead, you fling your arms around him and stare at the wall petrified. no tears can escape your eyes, you’re in disbelief.

“come on. you have to breathe and we have to get down there. get your wand ready. we have to do something!” he shouts, voice breaking.

you look at him for a second before he bolts out of the room, wand in hand.

instead of trying to fight, talking to anyone about what you saw, or even going to look at your headmaster’s dead body like everyone else, you slip quietly into your prefects dorm.

you watch the moon until she’s gone and when you see mr sun the tears finally fall. you mumble, “talk to him please, mr sun.”

draco glanced at the blinding sun from the malfoy garden, where he had spent the night. he couldn’t be in that house. not after everything that happened. so instead, he sat in the garden thinking of his best thoughts, you.

he watches the sunrise, listens to the winds and the robins singing, and mutters to himself, “tell her how i feel. it shouldn’t end this way. since you are all her friends, she’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

a baby robin sings a little louder, almost like it’s agreeing, and it causes the boy to cry.

it’s an eerily quiet early morning in the room of requirement on the second of may. you’re in the back of the room, trying to sleep. sleep has become your only form of happiness. your dreams have become a wonderful fairytale. draco is still prevalent and he holds you tighter and tighter with each night.

almost as soon as you drift to bed, you hear gasps. you look up to find harry, ron, and hermione. without a care in the world, you rush to the three just like everyone else. harry gives you a weak smile and you return it.

the three of them explain that today is the day. today is the day the world is split into two and voldemort attacks. plans are arranged and everyone holds each other close.

selfishly, you wish you could see draco.

minutes later, a meeting is called by snape in the dining hall. You watch as neville and ginny procure robes for the green-eyed boy and walk to the hall.

the carrows look at everyone with malice in their eyes as snape drones on about a sighting of harry in hogsmeade. soon after, harry shows himself and begins arguing with the black-haired man. he tells everyone about the night in the astronomy tower.

mcgonagall throws curses at the man along with harry before he flies out of the hall. The woman looks at all of us, eyes wide but determined.

in a rush, everyone is scattered about. you follow neville to the bridge and help as much as you can. when the death eaters, led by greyback, enter hogwarts, you stand your ground. you’re ready to fight.

draco easily locates blaise and goyle before heading off to find his wand and harry potter. his chest aches with looming fear but he tries to repress it the most he can.

“i guess this is it boys.” blaise sighs.

draco looks at his friend, “we’ll be fine. just stay safe and together. don’t go weak on me now zabini.”

you’re doing your best to fight off corban yaxley but every time you’re ready to throw a killing blow his way he narrowly hits you with the killing curse. your fighting in a state of pure unadulterated anger. it’s been hours of fighting but your anger remains.

“stupid little girl, you’ll be dead before nightfall.” yaxley spits before hitting you with a weak spell.

you still double over a bit, but hold your ground enough to raise your wand and hit him with the cruciatus curse. in the corner of your eye you watch professor flintwick begin dueling the vicious man, before running inside the castle.

fire burns everywhere around draco. he’s about to turn to blaise and say his goodbyes before potter snatches him up and leads him out of the room of requirement. the second he’s on the ground he makes a run for it. he loses blaise on the way and can’t seem to figure out where to go. he’s on the second floor, tears are pooling out of his eyes and the ache in his chest has grown when his body collides with another.

you fall back, hitting your head against the hard stone of the castle floor. when you look up, your vision is hazy and shaky.

“y/n?”

you know that voice. it’s the same voice you’ve heard every single night for a year.

“draco?” you ask, hands reaching out.

“you’re bleeding. let me help,” he says before gently healing your head.

you stare at the boy, “you know it feels weird to see you. i’ve never really spoken to you besides the dreams.”

his eyes grow wide, “you know about those?”

you smile a little, “yeah, i do.”

the two of you find yourselves entering the great hall, helping whoever you two can.

draco is comforting a teary-eyed second year when blaise zabini comes in, eyes bloodshot and clutching his right arm.

you watch as the two embrace, pulling apart so that draco can tend to his arm.

minutes that feel like hours pass as the three of you silently process the commotion going on around you.

a tattered luna lovegood emerges through the rubble and towards the three of you.

“everyone’s outside now- harry he... i think you all should come with me.” her shaky voice requests.

draco looks to you and nods, helping you rise. his hand grasps yours and you all follow luna outside.

all around you is destruction. the place you’ve called home for years in now a bruised battleground and at the very center of it stands the man you’ve come to fear more than anything in the world. voldemort.

“harry potter, is dead.” the creature laughs.

you grip draco tighter and he looks at you with an expression of sorrow.

“from this day forth you put your faith in me. and now is the time to declare yourself! come forward and join us. or die.” the man spits, smiling at the broken faces opposite him.”

it is quiet for just a moment before lucius malfoy calls for his son. you watch the man and his wife plead with him. but his hand remains in yours and feet right beside you.

you look up at him and give him your brightest smile, a smile you would give him in dreams. as he peers down at you he knows that nothing in the world means more to him than you and that smile he’s spent hours telling missus moon about.

“you insolent boy, draco!” the snake-like man hisses.

you turn to face him, eyes wide with fury and hate.

neville begins limping toward the band of villains.

“i’d like to say something.” the boys breathes out.

voldemort smirks at him, “well neville i’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

“you’re wrong! harry’s heart did beat for us, for all of us!” and with that, he pulls the sword of godric gryffindor out of the sorting hat he’s been clutching and aims it at the deatheaters and their leader.

draco’s head cranes in harry’s direction, and in an instant, the boy flies out of hagrid’s arms and throws a spell at voldemort.

you cry out along with everyone else before watching voldemort’s followers disappear.

“come on, we’ve fought enough. i won’t let you die now!” draco commands, leading you to the bridge.

you follow, but turn to look at the castle one last time. draco stops as well and you see him meet ron and hermione’s gaze. ron nods his head and draco returns the gesture.

“let’s go draco.” you sigh.

he didn’t know he’d see you again. the two of you had gone to your home to bathe and sleep and when the boy found himself in his dreams, he saw you.

you smile at the platinum haired boy, “sit draco.”

he complies.

“i hope you haven’t gotten tired of seeing me. i suppose it will be a lot now. to have me in waking and in sleep.” you giggle.

draco stares at you deeply, “i could never get tired of you. i’ve spent a year talking to the moon, trying to get you. in hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too. i’ve asked the sun to tell you all the things i couldn’t, the wind to whisper all the things i love about you, all the rainbows to make you smile, and the trees to take you under their branches. i’d want nothing more than this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, “i’m here now and we have eternity to tell eachother the things we haven’t said yet.”

the two of you can’t help but to stare at the moon some nights, silently thanking missus moonlight for putting in a word.

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

𖨆. 08 / all for us

summary: levi decides to walk you through his garden on a rainy day. you didn’t think that you’d end up having another antagonist though.

note: oh my god, i am deeply sorry that this took such a long time. i’ve been way too busy to actually sit down and get into the mindset of this book. i’m so sorry.

word count: +2.4k

taglist: @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @ascybous @messyhairday-me @stupid-stinky @saturnalya @megumitodoroki @kouyume @quacksonlover81 @gipumaur @morgana-olson @yourodangoatama

warnings/notes: cursing, creepy gestures, fluff, slight confusion, unedited, let me know if i missed anything

RAINDROPS pelted against the glass of the window gently, the sound echoing throughout the quiet room that is your bedroom.

today, levi had decided he would just spend his time with you in the comfort of your own room, holding you in his arms while he lazed the day away.

you, on the other hand, were having none of it. and by none of it, i mean cuddling. it wasn't that you didn't want to cuddle with levi, in fact, you enjoyed a lot! but, the rain outside your window was far more important in your eyes.

there was nothing exactly specific about the rain that entrapped your attention, just that it had been so long since you'd been in it. so long since you've been outside even.

but you'd never ask to go outside, the answer was already plastered onto an invisible wall inside of your head. so instead, you'd just look whenever you would get the chance.

and it didn't go unnoticed, it was actually quite obvious. you didn't care however, it's not as if erwin or levi were going to change their mind, so why worry at all?

but seeing the way your eyes sparkle at the sight of the rain gather in puddles outside, levi felt himself being convinced.

he huffs annoyedly, he just wanted to spend the day in your arms until erwin was home. he wishes it didn't rain. but even so, he begrudgingly gets to his feet and trudges to you. you look at him with a smile, hand reaching up to point at something that only you could probably see.

"we're gonna go outside for a bit, sick of watching your desperate face," he puts his hands in his pockets while staring at your widened eyes.

you stare at him for a minute, slightly creeping him out, before you even really react. you swing your arms around his neck and thank him profusely, a wide smile spread from ear to ear whenever you pull away from him.

"you're not going out in your nightgown though," he points to the silk white nightgown that ends at your bruised knees.

you follow behind him happily whenever he walks into your closet, shuffling through the different clothes he's bought you.

"you're not wearing light colors, it's too muddy outside, and if you were to get stains on you, they'd ruined beyond repair," he mutters, grabbing a black button up with bishop sleeves.

he hands it to you, gently taking your hand to lead you out of the closet and towards your dresser than held your clothes. he settles on a forest green skirt that ends just a few inches above your ankles, and then he grabs a bra for you.

"strip," you don't complain, only heat up and oblige.

his back is turned whenever he flings a black bra at you, obviously avoiding the sight of your body to help you maintain your decency. even if he did bathe you sometimes.

you hurriedly slip the bra on and levi finally decides to look at you again. he helps you button up your shirt along with the cuffs, nagging at you quietly as a husband would do for their wife. he lets you step inside the skirt on your own, which has you coming to the realization that there are built in pants that separate the air from your panties.

levi scoffs at your untucked shirt, tucking it into your skirt with fondness dripping from him. he sits you onto the stool of your vanity, which no longer has a mirror, and sighs. he picked up a brush, running it carefully through your hair to avoid any tangles that would tug at your head.

when he feels you're decent enough, he holds a cold hand out for you to take into his own. you accept it with glee, skipping behind him when he guides you through his estate and to the back door that leads to his garden.

"i need you all to clean up that table in the center. put those big umbrellas under it and dry it off with towels. then leave towels by the umbrella so i can wipe it down if it gets wet again. make us a light lunch, nothing too big but definitely not small. (name) and i are going to walk around the garden together until you all are finished or until we're ready to eat," levi's so quick with his words that it has you reeling with confusion, but his workers seem just fine with his speed and are already starting to complete the task given to them.

he holds a smaller umbrella in one hand and your hand in the other, opening it above the two of you as you step outside the door. your shoes click against the stone walkway just as thunder booms in the sky. you flinch and chuckle, pulling your hand away from levi to link arms with him.

he guides you along the garden, only explaining certain things if you had questions. the silence mixed with the light pitter patter of the rain soothes him, heavy eyes fluttering sleepily.

he's immediately awake whenever you squeal excitedly.

there was a marble statue of the goddess, themis. her scales were elegantly balanced between her fingers while her blindfold hung loosely around her eyes, other hand on the hilt of her sword that pointed to the ground.

"that was a reward for erwin at his office. i make sure to clean it myself every once and a while," you look to him, admiration mixed with confusion displayed on your face as you contemplated the meanings behind not only the goddess, but her statue as well.

you decide to keep quiet, slightly tugging levi to come closer to the statue so you can examine it more closely.

your eyes are shining whenever levi looks at you, and he feels like you're the sunshine in the midst of this pouring rain.

he looks down at his shoes silently, brushing away his cheesy and sappy thoughts. he feels stupid. not once had he felt this way towards anyone besides tall blonde men with blue eyes, but now he was feeling this way towards a woman. to say he was confused was only scratching at the surface.

he knew he'd liked you when he met you. you were quick witted, outgoing, and kind-hearted, not to mention gorgeous. but it's not like he wasn't sexually attracted to women at the time, he definitely was. he had never just felt romantically for women, not once in the entirety of his pitiful life.

but you're so docile and levi likes that. he not only likes it, he cherishes it.

for now, he'll entertain the thought that he might be bisexual, pansexual, whatever title makes him feel comfortable. if he can fall for you, then there's a chance he can fall for other girls.

levi hasn't even realized he's zoned out until you whine at him. you're lightly tugging on his hand to venture further into the garden, and levi's heart swells. you had an opportunity to leave, whether you even knew it or not, yet you chose to stay and wait for him. you had even snapped him out of it.

he lets out a huff before he stares to guide you around the garden again. he can't wait to take a nap after this.

"are you ready to eat yet," he grumbles, tugging on your hand to get you to stop walking.

"is there anything else left to see?"

"nothing that will look good in this weather," he scoffs.

"then, yes, i'm ready," and with that, he's leading you to the table his workers had been ordered to set up.

when you two arrive, you realize that the table was sat under a white hexagonal kiosko that had vines and flowers wrapping around the support beams. the table was covered from the rain, confusion clacking your brain at why levi asked for a big umbrella.

he seems pleased at seeing the table though.

"how long did it take for petra to realize," levi asks whenever he helps you sit down.

"not very long," the man said, and you recognize him from that day in bath with erwin.

you stiffen at the eye contact, looking down at the table and the empty plates that sit upon them. you feel his stare linger on you and your body, specifically your curves that were hidden underneath the button up shirt levi put on you. this kid gave you the creeps.

"i'll be back with the food," he says and walks behind your chair, fingers brushing against the back of your neck.

you swallow down your disgust, looking to levi to start a conversation.

"levi, wh... what's that boy's name?"

eyebrow raised, he responds, "his name's archie. why do you ask?"

"no reason. i think i've seen him around the house before," you shrug and idly play with the silverware on the table.

levi doesn't believe you, but the day has been too good for him to ruin now. you both talk sparingly while waiting for archie to come back, mostly talking about the new tv show you got levi to start watching and what he thinks about it.

the two of you turn your heads when you hear the sound of footsteps. you see erwin with archie following behind him with a tray of three plates, erwin holding an umbrella over the two of them. a soft smile sets on levi's face when he sees him.

"what are you doing home," you smile whenever he steps under the roof of the kiosko closes the umbrella.

"i was thinking of you two all day. it got so bad that i called a client by your guys' names," he chuckles, leaning down to give you a kiss on your head.

he does the same to levi while you giggle at his sentence. he sits down in an unoccupied chair, hand laying itself on your thigh.

"you can't just keep taking off, erwin," despite the slightly bitter sentence, levi's face is content.

archie places the plates in front of erwin and levi in silence, then to you. his arm brushes your own, and you can't help but get that weird feeling in your tummy again.

"thank you," you say to him quietly, flipping the fork between your fingers.

he just hums in response and walk away from the three of you again, sly smirk on his face. you ignore him, starting to eat the grilled chicken salad with slight confusion.

it had been over three months since you'd even had a fork in your hands. the feeling felt foreign and it felt as if all memory of how to eat with a fork washed away. the realization made your stomach ache, a dreadful look in your eyes spreading across your body. you swallowed down the huge ball that brews in your throat, hands trembling.

erwin and levi stare with pride swelling in their chests while tears swell in your eyes.

since when had you become so dependent? were you not just taking care of pieck and her cat when she was sick months ago?

you take a deep breath, adjusting the fork to make it comfortable in your hand. you try your best to eat with loose muscles, but the stiffness in your bones have practically turned you into wood.

erwin turns to you, sickeningly sweet smile on his face, taking the fork out of your hand and gathering food for you. he feeds you, just as he has done before, fingers gently touching your jaw as if he guided your chewing.

a warmth fills the ball in your chest, and deep down inside it makes you sick. you chew slowly and listen to levi and erwin's conversation, which consists of erwin's workday and how you've refused to cuddle with levi this morning.

————

you lay on the living room couch with your head in erwin's lap and feet in levi's. a crime documentary plays on the television, something erwin seemed excited about. he looked too cute to deny.

erwin's fingers run through the locks of your hair lovingly, only ever pulling them out if they start to tangle. levi's watching the documentary with a bored look on his face, thumb rubbing random patterns into your ankle. you're not exactly paying attention to the documentary, only zoning in whenever erwin points something out or whenever levi lets out a scoff.

you start to sit up and stretch, the urge of going to the bathroom taking over you.

you feel embarrassed whenever you ask, "can i go to the bathroom?"

"yeah, just go to the one in your quarters," levi's answer is immediate. he really must not like the documentary.

you pad over to the bathroom, listening to the pitter pattering of your bare feet against the dark hardwood floor. you walk into the opened door of your quarter, yawning obnoxiously and throwing your arms into the air. maybe you should've cuddled with levi this morning.

you go to the bathroom quickly, the thundering of the sky making you nervous. it would've been different if levi or erwin were with you.

you start to walk back to the living room, eyes focused on the flickering light that illuminates the large hallway. a particular loud clash of lightning and clap of thunder has you jumping into the air, house barely rumbling.

your body crashes into a chest, which you immediately grab onto, instinctively. you start to apologize to the person, obviously thinking that it was erwin judging by the height and broadness of the chest.

but when you look up, you're looking at the emerald green eyes that belong to archie. your words get caught in your throat and you feel yourself pale.

"i-i'm sorry," you stutter, immediately backing away only to come to the realization that you're already a few feet from the door to go back into the living room.

if you crashed into him, that means he was walking towards you. but the only thing ahead of the two of you would be—

would be your room.

dread drenches you, head to toe, sweat forming on your forehead as the room starts to feel a little bit fuzzy.

"wh-why were you in my room," you struggle to even get the first syllable out.

"levi wanted me to check for something in there," he shrugs nonchalantly, but you're not convinced.

you smile shakily and nod, rushing to the living room to get away from him. you try to think positive even after all the staring and subtle touches.

but it still leaves a pit in your stomach.

128 notes · View notes

allisondraste · 4 years

Text

Announcing: Ambivalence

It has been exactly one year to the day since I published the final chapter of my Nathaniel Howe/F!Cousland long-fic, Temperance, and I could not think of a better time to unveil it’s first sequel, which I have had on the back-burner while I took a much-needed hiatus from writing.

This will be a far briefer story than it’s predecessor, but tells an important part of Nate and Liss’ story.

I hope you all enjoy!

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe x Female Cousland

Story Summary: It has been just over a year since Nathaniel Howe and Elissa Cousland were reunited, childhood friendship forged into a love that endured a decade apart. However, every love is tested at some point. Presented with circumstances that could either make or break their relationship, Nate and Liss are no different.

[AO3 Link]

Chapter 1: Pity and Pride

Chapter Summary: It is no secret that there is trouble in paradise, and Nathaniel is quickly becoming tired of his friends’ concern.

Vigil’s Keep, Solace 9:33 Dragon

Sunlight poured into the room, undeterred by curtains carelessly drawn open the night before, forming a halo around the woman who lay next to him with bare limbs draped comfortably across his body. It was rare that he awoke before her, rarer still to catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, features unmarred by the nightmares that so often plagued her rest. It was difficult to fret over their privacy when the uncovered window painted such a beautiful portrait. How many years had he longed for moments such as this, fleeting and perfect, always just out of his reach?

And now Liss was there, snoring softly and tangled in bedsheets. Unable to quell the urge to touch her, to make sure she was real, he reached forward and brushed a lock of hair from her face before allowing his fingertips to settle on her cheek. She stirred, thick brows pressing together as her eyes flickered open, rich, brown, and sparkling with a groggy smile.

“Good morning, Nate,” she said quietly, voice hoarse as she shifted beneath the sheets and brought her hand up to cover his, an intricate ring glittering on her finger.

“My love,” he whispered, allowing his eyes to blink closed just briefly.

Then, he awoke.

Nathaniel sighed as his eyes opened, not to a lovely sun-soaked room in Antiva, but rather to his own tomb-like quarters in Vigil’s Keep, with nothing but low-burning sconces illuminating the depressing stone walls and floors. It was too cold, and he rolled over to be closer to the warmth of his bed partner, stretching out an arm to drape across her.

However, his arm fell only against a mound of blankets, his dreams having played a cruel trick on him once again. This was not the first time in recent days that he’d woken up to find his bed empty, the woman who had lain with him the night before gone without a trace other than the turned back sheets and coverlet on her side of the bed. In fact, it seemed that he woke up alone more often than not.

“Liss,” he asked the empty room, as if it could summon her for him, as if he did not know she was already up and running about the Keep pretending that everything was fine.

When the room did not answer him, he sighed and sat up begrudgingly, shivering as the chilly air met his bare skin, and slid out of bed. Without any windows, discerning the hour proved difficult, yet he figured it was past time that he got ready and behaved as an acting Warden-Constable anyway.

In peace, vigilance , and all of that.

A rustling from his closet drew him from his thoughts and his head darted toward the direction of the noise out of instinct. Cautiously, he made his way over to the door and placed an ear up against it, hoping to get a better idea of what lay inside.

Meow .

Nathaniel sighed and shook his head as he opened the door, glancing down to a pair of bright green eyes examining him. Ser Pounce-A-Lot was a ridiculous name for a creature who only ever snuck about and examined the world with cold calculation, pouncing very little, if at all.

“This,” he grumbled, stepping out of the animal’s way, “Is how curiosity kills your kind . ”

The cat tilted his head in an almost unnatural way before mewing again and sauntering forward, snaking himself around Nathaniel’s leg and purring gratuitously for several long moments.

“You are keeping me from my duties, Your Lordship ,” Nathaniel said, glaring down at Ser Pounce, who appeared wholly undeterred, before stopping, blinking up at him, and then chomping down on the back of his heel. He hissed in pain and pulled away reflexively.

Reaching down to give the cat a scratch behind the ears, Nathaniel said,“Perhaps you were meant to be a war beast after all.”

Ser Pounce nuzzled into his hand, gave a final meow, and pranced out of the room as if nothing had transpired. He wondered how he had ended up caring for the damnable creature in the first place. Then again, it was not as if Anders had been in any sort of condition to care for a pet when he fled the Keep, nor was Nathaniel certain Justice would have allowed him to. He shook his head free of the disappointing, bitter memories of his friends. He had more pressing matters to attend.

It took him little time to dress himself in his Warden attire. The days had been short and peaceful since The Mother and her spawn were destroyed, yet he preferred to dress the part of a Grey Warden, armed and prepared for an attack at any moment. In the aftermath of Loghain’s slanderous campaign against them, and with the decision to allow Amaranthine to fall looming over their heads, the Wardens had ample other enemies now, enemies that the Darkspawn threat had once held at bay. Anything could happen.

Appropriately equipped, Nathaniel straightened his posture and stepped out into the hallway.

It was an odd experience to reside in his childhood home, yet on an entirely different floor and wing. When Delilah assumed control of the arling, she had kindly offered that he keep his old room, as part of the Howe family. He promptly declined, having no fond feelings for the room to which he’d been unfairly banished more times than he could count. Besides, he preferred to stay with the other Wardens, his new family.

Nathaniel made his way through several dark corridors and down multiple flights of stairs, feet guided more by muscle memory than sight, until he’d reached the ground floor. He couldn’t say for certain he would find Liss in the great hall, but it was as good of a place as any to start.

The largest room in Vigil’s Keep, was the only room with any semblance of warmth. One of the longest-standing, impregnable fortresses in Ferelden had no use for stained glass windows, open courtyards, or natural lighting of any kind. His father had always declared that it was called a keep and not a castle for a reason, an underhanded criticism of the things Nathaniel pretended not to love about Castle Cousland when he was a child.

He scanned the space before him, nearly vacant with the exception of pages and scouts milling about waiting to be assigned tasks. He thought to approach one of them to ask if they’d seen Liss, but thought better of it. They likely had no idea who she was or what she looked like, and they no doubt had better things to do than participate in this unnecessary game of hide-and-seek.

“Morning, Nathaniel,” called a voice off to his side, a voice he did not particularly wish to hear at present. He turned to see Alistair standing several feet away, wearing that lopsided, cheerful grin that usually occupied his face. The younger man had thickened up slightly since they’d first met over a year prior, an effect of safety, security, and not carrying the weight of a Blight on his back. He looked healthy and happy, and Nathaniel envied his ability to bounce back.

“Morning, Alistair” Nathaniel replied dryly. He paused, eyes darting around the room in another cursory sweep before returning to the other man. “Have you seen Liss, by any chance?”

Alistair flinched at the question. “You mean, you haven’t seen her this morning?”

“No.”

“Damn...” he shifted his weight, laughing nervously and bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head, “I, um.. I haven’t seen her either.”

“Wonderful,” Nathaniel muttered, shaking his head.

“Listen, you know how she is,” Alistair said, placing a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder in what was undoubtedly an attempt at reassurance, a gesture of pity. “She probably just got one of those wild hairs of hers, ran off to the library in the middle of the night, and is now passed out under a pile of books. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

Nathaniel blinked at him several times, then looked down to glare at the hand that was resting on his shoulder. “Uh…huh.”

The other man withdrew his hand awkwardly, frowning. “Sorry,” he remarked pointedly, holding his hands up in defeat, “Remind me to wait until you’ve woken up properly next time I decide to show you basic human decency.”

Nathaniel deflated at Alistair’s words. “No, I apologize. I am just a bit tense as of late.”

“Yeah.” Alistair looked down at the floor and kicked at the stone with the toe of his boot before looking back up. “I know. For what it’s worth, if I was in your shoes I’d… I don’t know what I’d do. Probably fling myself into the nearest body of water.”

Nathaniel snorted derisively. “Thanks.”

“That sounded bad didn’t it? What I meant is--”

“I know what you meant.”

“Right.” Alistair let out a nervous laugh and shook his head. “I’m going to stop talking now, before I put my other foot in my mouth.”

Nathaniel offered him a hint of a smirk to indicate that there had been no real harm done, then teased, “I believe that is a wise decision.”

Alistair smiled in return and nodded. “Anyway, I was actually meant to inform you that the commander would like to speak with you. She’s in her study right now.”

“I shall see her at once.”

“And if I run into our Dear Lady Cousland, I will tell her you were looking for her.”

“Please, do.”

Concluding his conversation with Alistair, Nathaniel headed immediately toward the corridor that led back to the commander’s study, the room that had previously belonged to his father’s portraits and trophies. As a child, he’d spent many hours hiding away in that damned room, dreaming himself up a better father than Rendon would ever be. He was grateful Lucia now occupied the space, her solemn kindness and humility painting over the history that had once lived there, and he hoped that with time, she would eliminate his father’s stain completely.

The large wooden door was left slightly ajar, a small band of lamplight leaking out into the hallway. He still stopped and decided to knock, rather than just entering as others would have. Despite her open-door policy, he refused to startle her without need. Three quick raps, and he waited for her response.

“You can come in, Nathaniel,” she called just loud enough for him to hear her.

He pushed the door open and entered, laughing. “How did you know it was me?”

Lucia looked up at him with a hint of a smile. “You’re the only person I know who knocks when the door is open.”

“Right,” he replied, pressing the door closed behind him.

The young woman he called his friend and commanding officer stood bent over her desk, despite a perfectly adequate chair sitting just behind her. She propped herself up with one hand flat on the surface of the desk, as she thumbed through pages of some antiquated tome with the other. Though her long, dark hair was styled in a low ponytail, it still fell down and cast a shadow over her face. Surrounding her were stacks of other old texts and scrolls.

Lucia had been rather consumed by research as of late. An unassuming journal had found its way into her hands, one with writings that had been identified as Warden-Commander Duncan’s. In it, he had documented an encounter with their very own Architect. She hoped the record would provide them with some valuable information about the unsettling creature, and it had. But it had also made mentions of an unnamed Grey Warden, a mage, who was freed from her calling, tainted blood healed and unable to be re-joined.

Ever since, Lucia had been pouring over Grey Warden lore and history and manuscripts about obscure magics, no doubt searching for something they all wanted deep down: A cure. As honorable as membership in the order sounded, the same power that granted them their Blight-stopping capabilities became an unbearable curse in peaceful times, each moment that passed one breath closer to The Calling. The commander was so young, and he understood her newfound compulsion to find a solution. She was not the only one struggling to cope with the reality of a Grey Warden’s fate.

“You asked to speak to me,” he stated tentatively, almost as a question.

Lucia’s gaze darted up to him, and she straightened her posture. “Yes, I did.”

“And?”

She walked around her desk to stand in front of him, piercing eyes searching his face for an answer to a question she had yet to ask. “How are you holding up?”

A twinge of irritation sparked through him. “Holding up?”

“Perhaps it is presumptuous of me to say as your commanding officer, but we are also friends, and as your friend I feel obligated to point out that things with Elissa have been a bit… tense since you two returned from Highever.”

“That is presumptuous,” Nathaniel replied through his teeth, “Even as my friend.”

Lucia stood, unfazed and blinking. “You can be annoyed with my concern if you wish, but that won’t make it go away.”

“Your concern is wasted.” His words were clipped, and he crossed his arms. “I am fine.”

“Nate,” she urged him, dropping her typical formality and reaching forward to place a hand on his arm, a gesture of which he was quickly tiring. Still, they were friends, and he wondered if it might give him some clarity to discuss the matter with the woman.

He opened his mouth, prepared to provide a more honest answer, but clamped it shut as a knock rang out on the door behind him. He released the breath he’d been holding, never more grateful for an interruption.

“Who’s there,” Lucia asked.

“It’s Liss. I just spoke with Alistair, and he said you wanted to see me.”

Nathaniel glared at Lucia waiting for an explanation that she did not provide. Instead, she released his arm and moved to sit down in the chair at her desk. “You can come in.”

The door creaked open slowly, and Nathaniel turned to see Liss. She froze in the doorway when their eyes met, wincing as if his presence had inflicted physical pain. Then she blinked suspiciously between him and the commander before flashing a smile and bouncing into the room. ”

“Good morning, Lucia,” she announced cheerfully, as she moved to stand beside Nathaniel, giving him a confusing, playful nudge with her elbow. ”Hey Nate.”

“Now that you’re both here,” Lucia began formally, “I have an assignment for you two.”

“Oh?” Liss perked up, and fidgeted excitedly.

“Some sort of Warden business, I presume,” Nathaniel asked, making every effort to hide both his discomfort and his relief.

“Yes. ” Lucia nodded. “As you know, a new Junior Warden was transferred to us from the Warden Fortress at Montsimmard last week.”

“The woman from Kirkwall?”

“Her name’s Bethany,” Liss corrected with a quick laugh, “I met her in passing near the baths. She didn’t seem too keen on having a conversation with me at the time.”

“Warden Bethany has been through quite an ordeal in the past six months,” Lucia explained, “She is an apostate who was living as a refugee in Kirkwall with her family after they fled Lothering during the Blight. She was Joined by a contingent of Orlesian Wardens after an encounter with darkspawn in the Deep Roads.”

Nathaniel frowned and brought his hand to his chin. “The Deep Roads? What was she doing in the Deep Roads?”

“It seems pretty fortunate that she would have stumbled into a group of Grey Wardens, too,” Liss chimed in.

“It had nothing to do with fortune,” Lucia continued, words stern and direct. She stood up, clenching her fists at her sides. “Bethany and her older sister were part of an expedition into the Deep Roads to search for artifacts and treasure, accompanied by one of our own, who provided them with confidential Warden maps to help them navigate.”

The palpable vitriol from Lucia meant one thing, and one thing only.

“Anders,” Nathaniel asked.

“Yes,” she responded defeatedly, “According to Bethany he’s been living in Kirkwall ever since he deserted, running some sort of healing clinic. He is the reason they were able to find the other Wardens.”

“Wow,” Liss remarked, “That all seems uncharacteristically noble of him.”

“Uncharacteristic of Anders, perhaps,” Nathaniel stated, “But not of Justice.”

“Right.” Lucia’s gaze was fixed on the ground, deep in thought. She looked up at them before sighing and speaking again, “As unorthodox as it may seem to assign a mission based upon personal feelings, I believe my reasoning is sound. Anders is still a Grey Warden, one who I conscripted, which makes him my responsibility. I would like for you two, along with Bethany, to travel to Kirkwall and pay him a visit. ”

“And do what exactly,” he asked, annoyed by what felt like a waste of time, “Drag him back to the Keep by his collar?”

“That would be a sight.” Liss chuckled at his side and he rolled his eyes. “Ten silvers he sets your little chin hairs on fire.”

“He would have to catch me first. Twelve silvers.”

She smiled and winked at him. “It’s a bet.”

“If I am being completely honest about my intentions, I just want you to check in on him, “Lucia continued more softly, paying no heed to their irreverence to the task, “Make sure that he is safe and warn him against sharing too many delicate Warden secrets.”

“So this is not “official” Warden business then,” Nathaniel asked.

“I’m not sure the Wardens ever do anything ‘officially,’” Liss stated flatly.

“This is just for my peace of mind,” Lucia answered with a sad smile, “Besides, I thought you two might enjoy some time away together.”

Her investment in their relationship shamed him, causing his face to flush. Lucia had so many other things that she could and should have been fretting over instead. He flicked his eyes over to Liss, wondering if she felt as he did.

She only frowned and shrugged out a reply. “I could use a vacation.”

“Kirkwall is a shithole,” Nathaniel told her frankly, words more pointed than he’d intended,”It won’t exactly be a vacation.”

“Not with that attitude, it won’t be,” she chirped, not missing a beat.

“Will you go,” Lucia asked.

“Of course,” he replied, with a reassuring smile. Liss nodded along with him.

“Thank you both.” Lucia seemed to relax, and sat back slowly into her chair. “You all should prepare to head out to Amaranthine first thing in the morning. I’ve arranged passage for you there.”

Nathaniel nodded in acknowledgement, noticing Liss do the same as she spoke, “Is there anything else you needed, Commander?”

“No,” she shook her head, “You are free to go. Safe travels.”

When he turned to face Liss , she was biting her lip and appeared to be lost in thought, a small wrinkle between her brows. It was ridiculous to ache for someone who slept beside him each night, to miss her. And yet he did. Maker did he miss her. That their companions sensed some sort of tension between them was not inaccurate, and had he been honest with Alistair and Lucia, he would have admitted that things were not “fine.” He just was not ready to broach the topic of what happened in Highever with anyone other than Liss, and she had been all but avoiding any opportunity they had to discuss it for the better part of two weeks.

Shaking himself free of his own thoughts, he nudged Liss with his elbow and held his arm out to her. There was no guarantee that she would accept it, but he would be damned if he did not offer it to her. When she glanced over to him, then down at his arm, and back up to meet his gaze, her face lit up, bright and warm, and relief washed over him. Thank The Maker he could still make her smile.

Without hesitation, she looped her arm through his and blinked up at him expectantly. “Shall we?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him. “Of course, my lady.”

Liss had always been adept at filling silences, or at the very least making them comfortable; however, as they left Lucia’s study together, arm-in-arm, an oppressive and awkward quiet fell over them. Nathaniel was no stranger to uncomfortable silences, but to share one with Liss was an entirely new experience. He racked his mind for anything to talk about that would not cause her to withdraw from him, but came up short. Hopefully he would be able to suffer his own discomfort until they made it back to their shared quarters.

“So,” she spoke up suddenly, much to Nathaniel’s relief, “Kirkwall. Just the two of us… and that Bethany person, of course. This’ll be fun.” She held his arm more tightly and let her head fall to rest against his shoulder.

“You really think so,” he asked, amused at her optimism.

She pulled away suddenly to look up at him, a pain he did not intend to inflict buried in her expression. “You don’t?”

“That’s not what I—” he paused, immediately frustrated and attempting to keep his composure— “It wasn’t meant to be serious.”

Liss continued to glare up at him, tears welling in her eyes, and he did not have a shred of an idea how to respond. She had never been a rational person, but this was a bit extreme. He squeezed and released his hands at his side as he fought the urge to reach out to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she muttered, looking down at the ground, “You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m just—”

“Liss,” he urged, hoping that she would finally open up to him, give him some clue as to why she kept pushing him away and erecting walls between them that had never been there before.

“Nate,” she whispered, a single tear falling from her lashes and rolling down her cheek.

Without thinking he reached forward to wipe it away with his thumb, allowing his hand to linger on her cheek. Her gaze softened at the touch, and for a moment he thought her defenses might falter, that she might let him in. She brought her hand up to cover his, briefly allowing her eyes to flutter closed. When she opened them again, there was steel in her expression and she grabbed his hand, gently pulling it away from her face. With that, he withdrew his hand completely and stared back at her in disbelief, jaw clenched.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded, voice hushed, “Please.”

“I can’t… do this right now.” She shook her head frantically, emotions barely held beneath the surface. “I’m sorry.”

“This is not something you can run from and hope it disappears, Liss,” he replied tersely, his frustration getting the better of him, “You can’t keep avoiding me.”

“I’m going to get some air,” she snapped, indignant and completely ignoring his remarks, “We can prepare for our journey after I come back.

“Liss, wait—”

“I’ll talk to you later, Nate,” she interrupted as she turned to walk away toward the front door.

They had done this dance too many times for him to be taken aback or even confused. No, the only thing he felt at the moment was exhausted. Countless times since they’d returned, he’d tried to get her to discuss how she was feeling, or to at least listen to how he felt, but she’d consistently found excuses or other ways to escape an actual conversation. It was ridiculous and immature, and he was at a complete and utter loss.

Ego bruised and chest aching, he made his way over to the bench along a nearby wall and sank down, resting his elbows on his knees as his face dropped into the palms of his hands. What was he to do next except give her space and hope that things would be sorted out with time?

His ruminations were cut short as his ears caught the distinct shuffle of footsteps that slowed to a stop as they neared him and a hushed murmur of women’s voices. He could not make out what they were saying, but the voices were familiar, and it was obvious they were attempting discretion and failing miserably.

“You two are not subtle,” he said with a sigh as he looked up to see the elf and dwarf blinking at him sympathetically, a look that had become all too common since he’d returned from Highever. Did people sincerely believe him to be so pitiable? His friends, especially, should have known better.

Velanna glanced between Nathaniel and the empty space beside him on the bench, brow furrowing slightly as she asked, “May I?”

“Be my guest,” he replied motioning to the seat, then letting his head fall to his hands again briefly before sitting up straight and watching as she sat down beside him. Sigrun remained standing, but moved to lean against the wall.

Nathaniel glanced from one to the other several times, noting their heavy silence and persevering looks of pity. He settled on Velanna, whose pinched expression he presently found the most irritating and asked, “Is there something you wished of me? Or do you intend to continue staring at me as if I were a lost puppy?”

“We are not—” Velanna began to retort, words echoing off the walls. She sighed and continued more quietly, “We are simply concerned for you.”

“There is no reason to be concerned for me,” Nathaniel protested, “I am fine.”

“Hah,” Sigrun interjected, laughing, “You don’t think we’re going to buy that, do you?”

“You don’t have to,” he retorted sarcastically, turning to face his other friend, “I am offering it to you for free.”

“Come on, Nate. We’re your friends, and we know better,” she pressed, “Besides, with the way you’ve been moping about the Keep these past two weeks, there are lost puppies I feel less sorry for.”

He bristled at her words, muscles tensing as he clenched his fists. Just as he was about to snap, Velanna’s hand fell on his shoulder and his gaze darted back to her instead.

“ Lethallin ,” she said firmly, a word from her own language. She’d once told him it was a term of endearment for her People, one used to signify the closeness between friends. He relaxed slightly, and she withdrew her hand to rest on her lap. “Was it not you who once told me I needed to stop viewing every expression of sympathy as a personal attack.?”

“That does sound like something I would say.” Nathaniel shook his head, snorted out a laugh, and slouched forward. “I can’t say I expected that to come back and bite me in the arse.”

It was silent for several beats, then he continued, apologizing for what seemed like the thousandth time in just an hour or so. “I am sorry, truly. Everyone is so concerned about me, and I know that I should be appreciative, but... if I am being completely honest, it’s humiliating.”

“That is…” Velanna said, “Understandable.”

Sigrun nodded her agreement. “Definitely.”

“I—” he began to speak again, but was interrupted by the loud bang of a door slamming back against the wall. Several scouts and pages gasped in surprise at the form that entered the hall, battle axe slung effortlessly over his shoulder. “Nevermind,” Nathaniel muttered quickly.

“Never fear, Ol’ Oghren’s back and better than ever,” Oghren shouted at the far end of the hall as the door slammed closed behind him. He appeared to scan the room, perking up when his gaze met Nathaniel’s, and immediately sauntering over to the bench.

Velanna sighed and rolled her eyes as Sigrun straightened up to wave and greet him.“Hey Oghren! How’s the family?”

The dwarf had been away for just over a month visiting with Felsi, and their brood. Ever since the turmoil in Amaranthine had ended, and most of the resulting mess cleared up, he’d been taking intermittent leave to be a more present husband and father. He was certainly rough around every edge, but he was trying to be better, and that was admirable.

“Oh you know, same ol’, same ol’,” he answered jovially, stopping as he stood just a few feet away from the rest of them. He brought one hand up and stroked his elaborately-plaited auburn beard proudly. “Felsi’s expectin’ again.”

“Maker’s Blood, man! Are you intending to father a legion?” Nathaniel exclaimed with a laugh that was cut short by a sudden realization. He squinted at Oghren and continued, “Wait. Congratulations and all, but... how is that even possible?”

Oghren shrugged. “Beats the shit out of me. The Commander told me Grey Wardens weren’t s’posed to be able to… y’know...”

His words trailed off into a low chuckle and he waggled his eyebrows, eliciting a groan of disgust from Velanna. At the same time, a mischievous smirk crossed Sigrun’s face and she tilted her head, crossed her arms and said with faux innocence, “No, Oghren, I actually don’t think we know.”

“Do not encourage him, lethallan ,” Velanna scolded, standing up as if preparing to escape.

To Nathaniel’s surprise, Oghren ignored the opportunity to pop off with an inappropriate joke, and instead looked at him, a hint of a genuine smile sparkling in his eyes, but hidden beneath his beard. “So, Howe, I figure congratulations are in order for you too, eh?”

Nathaniel stiffened, heart sinking like lead into his abdomen. He shook his head and let out a laugh that was more bitter than he had hoped. “No. No that won’t be necessary.”

“Wait… what?” Oghren scowled and examined Nathaniel for a moment before protesting. “Don’t tell me you changed your mind? Didn’t take you to be a chickenshit.”

“I didn’t.” Nathaniel stood up abruptly at the words, startling the others. “And I’m not.”

“Shit, I—”

“I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

“Nate,” Sigrun said gently, grabbing his arm.

He shrugged her off and stepped away. “I should go prepare for my trip to Kirkwall.”

“Nathaniel,” Velanna urged him, “Wait.”

“Thank you for talking with me,” he said flatly, glancing between Velanna and Sigrun, then over to Oghren, “It is good to have you back, my friend.”

“Yeah… sure.”

With that, Nathaniel gave his friends a nod, and turned to make his way to the nearest stairwell, heart racing as he struggled to remain calm.

“What crawled up his breeches,” he heard Oghren ask behind him.

Nathaniel did not linger to hear Velanna and Sigrun brief Oghren on the events that had transpired while he was away. He did not need to be reminded.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age origins awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #my writing #ambivalence tag

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angelliev · 4 years

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Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Five - Heaven is with You

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: It’s the masquerade ball. Secrets are spilled. Aria will share a passionate moment with JJ and a heartbreaking one with someone else. Some people will put on a mask to hide their lies, while others with take theirs off to show their true self.

Warnings: Smut, angst, cursing, alcohol/drugs, mention of abuse and pregnancy.

A/N: Sorry I didn’t post yesterday guys! I was visiting family for the weekend. I hope you enjoy reading this one. I was definitely having difficulty writing because not only was it hard to decide what I wanted to do with the story, but I was also trying not to cry while writing this one. I hope you enjoy! (Not my GIF. credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or any of the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

The hot sun beams down on me as I stay afloat in the pool. I am forever grateful for air conditioning. I don’t know how people do it. I’d melt away in the heat. I’m sitting by the edge soaking in the coolness of the water. I attempt to relax while soaking in the sun, trying to tan a little bit.

My grandmother Lorraine, comes outside. “Aria, what are you still doing in the pool? Come dry off and get ready.” She hands me a towel. “Where are we going?” I asked. “We’re going out for brunch, then to the spa and the tailor to pick up your dress. Now get out.” She demands. Lorraine Prescott is a lot like my father. Demanding and manipulative. Always getting what she wants.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll have to pass, I’m not going this year.” I decline. “No, you’re going. It’s the masquerade ball, you’ve gone every year and now you’re going this year, end of story.” She protests. “They do it every year and it’s not going to make a difference if I’m not there.” “Yes, it will. Your father is a very important guest, making you a very important guest, and it would be insulting for you not to go.” She argued. “I’m not going.” I still protest.

“Aria, get out the god damn pool you’re going! You’re such a fucking brat! Is it too much to ask for you to be a good daughter for once?” My father finally snaps and throws a plate on the ground, in result shattering it everywhere. I huff and pull myself out of the water. I couldn’t even look him in the eye without any trace of hatred in my own. He can just be so horrible sometimes. “Was that really necessary Claude?” My mom comes out very annoyed and angry which is very rare. I could see the guilt on my father’s face when he realized what he had said and done. “Aria, I’m sorry I didn’t mean any of that. I overreacted.” He apologized, but I didn’t care. “Your apology means nothing to me.” I spat and stomped away.

The whole day out was a drag. Lorraine was the phone the whole time and Jennifer was talking nonstop about her conceited self. She was mostly bragging about her perfect boyfriend Rafe Cameron. Lorraine is very fond of the Camerons, so it pleased her to know that her lovely granddaughter was dating someone of high class. When I get home and shower, I fling myself on the bed not ready for the night. My laptop starts to ring, alerting me that someone wants to FaceTime. I was more than happy to see my beloved’s face when I answered. JJ didn’t bother to wear a shirt as per usual, so I had to face the camera away from the door to make sure his face wouldn’t be seen if someone decided to barge in.

We talked about the usual stuff for a while. “God, I miss you so much babygirl.” His eyes turn dark as he eyed the silk robe hugging my body. The things I’d do to have him over he right now. “Me too lover boy. It’s a shame. I had a special surprise for you. I guess I’ll have to wait till next time.” I tease. “Oh yeah? What’s next time?” He asked. “My parents are flying to Las Vegas for a convention. My sister and her friends are taking a girls trip to Boston. So,” I begin to undo my robe, exposing my naked skin to him, making him smile and bite his lip. “We’ll have the place to ourselves. We can be as loud as we want.” “Mm, babygirl you’ve got me hard just thinking about the things I’m gonna do to you.” “I just can’t wait.” I can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Touch yourself for me babygirl.” He said with such lustful eyes. I couldn’t help but smile as I lay down and begin to rub figure eights on my clit. I then insert two fingers, letting them curl and thrust within me, chasing a high only JJ could give me. When I glance at the screen, his hand is running up and down his thick shaft. “Baby, I want you inside me so bad.” I cry. “Soon babygirl. Just imagine it’s my fingers curling inside you right now.” I let my mind race to the thought of him fingering me. God, I loved how his lengthy finger were always able to reach that sweet spot inside me. I just want to be engulfed in him. I just want him to kiss me with his undying passion and love for me. I just want to make love with him till I die. I just want him. Just as I’m about to bring myself to orgasm, a knock erupts on my locked door, the handle begins to jiggle.

“Why is this door locked? You know the rules!” Yelled my father. I let out an annoyed sigh before screaming into the pillow, sexually frustrated. “I’m getting dressed! Just give me a second!” I yell. “I got to go baby. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” I quickly shut the laptop and wrap my naked self in the silky robe. When I open the door, my father seems annoyed. “Why the hell aren’t you dressed?”

“I just got out of the shower and did my hair and makeup.” I say. Before my father could scold me anymore, my mother comes to my rescue. “Honey, I got this.” She says shooing him away and closing the door. “I can’t wait to see you all dressed up!” She’s referring to my spaghetti strap rose gold dress and matching color mask. I was a little astonished with the whole outfit. Normally, I don’t enjoy getting all dressed for events like these, but I sort of fell in love with this dress. I guess it sort of reminded me of the sundress I wore the night I lost my virginity to JJ.

“You look so beautiful sweetheart!” My mother gushed as she gazed at my appearance, kissing the top of my head. She has always been so sweet and kind to me. She’s always played with me as a child. Always encouraged me to pursue my dreams. Always accepted me for who I am. She has always had a warm heart and a kind soul. I wish my father was a lot more like my mom. “Thank you, mom. I love you.” I hold her hand. “I love you too, sweetheart. Now let’s go. You look like an absolute princess.” She compliments as she guides me out of the room.

Before I head downstairs, I head into one of the guest bathrooms, looking for a hand lotion. Without any luck, I open up the cabinet under the sink, and am still not having any luck as I’m rummaging around. Just as I’m about to ditch the idea, I found something much more interesting. My hand grips the Ziplock bag. I was taken by surprise as I scanned its contents. One positive pregnancy test and an ultrasound picture. I didn’t hesitate to take it out to examine. The fetus is tiny, so it couldn’t be that old. When I looked up at the patient’s name, my eyes nearly popped out of my sockets. Jennifer Prescott. I had to blink a few times to make sure it was real, thinking that the name would change, but it obviously didn’t.

“Aria come on!” Yells Lorraine. “Coming!” I frantically shove the evidence to the back of the cabinet before running downstairs, nearly face planting. “You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Lorraine said. I just simply stared at Jennifer’s belly with wide eyes, still in shock. She just gives me the weirdest look as my eyes continued to stay glued to her stomach. “I’m fine. Just kind of spaced out.” I lied, finally getting a hold of myself. I sat uncomfortably in the car the whole way there. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My picture-perfect sister pregnant? With Rafe Cameron’s baby? Are you shitting me? I didn’t have time to be bored at the masquerade. I just stood there like a fucking statue, earning a few bizarre looks from guests.

“Can you at least look like you’re having fun?” Asked Lorraine. “What?” I asked cluelessly, still gazing at Jennifer and Rafe. Does he know? Does anyone know? She just lets out a frustrated sigh. My father and a stranger approaches us. “Hello, I’d let to introduce you ladies to Francis Kline. Francis, this is my mother, Lorraine Prescott.” They two exchange handshakes as I sip awkwardly on my sparkling cider lost in my own thoughts. “And this is my youngest daughter, Aria Prescott.” I didn’t even hear my name or notice the hand extending in front of me, until my dear grandmother stomps on my foot. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” I say quickly before sipping again. “Likewise. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Instead of shaking my hand, he lifts it up to his lips before planting a kiss. This caught my attention making me choke on my drink, and earning a glare from both my father and grandmother. I quickly snatch my hand away from him.

“Are you alright miss? Is something wrong with the drink? I’ll have it taken care of right away.” He tries to take the glass from my grasp. “No! I mean no thank you.” The three are staring me down, making me nervous. “I have to pee. Like really bad. Like peegasm bad. Excuse me.” I say very quickly and high with a charming attitude before walking away with speed. On my way to the bathroom, I grab a bottle of champagne. After ten minutes of searching the empty halls, I still can’t find one fucking bathroom.

Before I can turn the corner, a hand clasps over my mouth and pulls me into a dark space. I let out a voiceless scream and start flailing. “Babe it’s me! JJ!” I recognize the voice and stop flailing. The light turns on giving my eyes no time to adjust. “You scared the shit out of me!” I slap his shoulder and take off my mask. He laughs. “I can see that. What’s with the champagne?” “Oh, I was about to get wasted. Want to join?” I ask popping it open and making a mess. “You had me at wasted.” The two of chuckle. “So, what brings you here Mr. Maybank?” I asked with a horrible British accent. “I couldn’t help but notice my lovely girlfriend walking alone. Thought I keep her company. Plus, I missed her so much.” He mocks my funny accent. “Well, why don’t you give this lovely girlfriend a kiss?” He just chuckles before pulling me close and laying one on me.

“By the way, who’s room is this?” I asked after pulling away. “Rafe Cameron’s. Which reminds me,” He answers with a devilish smirk and leads me to the balcony. I am introduced to a beautiful scene I thought you’d only see in movies. Candles are lit, the sofa is covered in rose petals soft jazz plays in the background, and there’s a beautiful view of the ocean.

“Are you trying to seduce me Mr. Maybank?” I ask, still in trance. “Perhaps, is it working Ms. Prescott?” He lays kisses on my neck which I expand, giving him more access. “Yes.” I sigh and finally find his lips in a passionate and loving kiss. His tongue lips my bottom lip, and I gladly let it slip into my mouth. God, I could kiss him forever.

He pulls away to rip off his clothes. I do the same, kicking off my pesky heels and long dress. My body shivers when a brisk breeze attacks my skin leaving goosebumps, but I don’t care, because I know things about to warm up soon.

A moan escapes my mouth when his bare skin touches mine as we lay on the large outdoor sofa. “I still can’t believe your mine.” He says. “Always have been. Baby, I was made for you.” I declare. This makes him smirk as he removes my panties leaving me completely naked. Instead of immediately plunging in, his mouth attaches to my breast, his tongue swirling around my bud. His hand finds my wet core. “You’re so wet babygirl. Were you as hot and bothered as I was?” He asked looking up at me. “Yes. Baby I want you so bad.” I begin to ramble. “What do you want babygirl?” “I want you inside me! I want you to fuck me till I can’t walk! Please, I want you so bad it hurts!” God, I sound so desperate, but I don’t care. He’s the only person in this world I’d get down on my knees and beg for.

“Don’t worry babygirl. Daddy’s going to make you feel all better.” That name was always a turn on for me, always making me more excited if that was even possible. He teases my drenched pussy with his tip as he watching me writhe under him. “Daddy please. Please fuck me.” I plead once more. He smirks. “That’s a good girl.” A blissful sigh escapes from both of us as he enters me, the two of us finally connected, not an inch of him is left exposed. He stays still for a few seconds, enjoying the silky warmth of my walls that hugs his thick dick so tight. “God, you’re going to be the death of me babygirl.” He says before pulling out, only to shove himself back in.

We don’t even bother to hold back our moans. I just lay back and let the pleasure engulf my every thought. Time is irrelevant as he continues to slam into me, not holding me back, missing the comforting feeling of me being around him. My eyes were glued to the starry night sky above. I can’t help but think how erotic all of this is, as my boyfriend fucks me under the stars. I completely let go as the two of us drown ourselves in this euphoric warmth, until we both fall into pure bliss. I could have sworn I could saw stars in his ocean eyes when I gazed into them. It was then when I realized that I wasn’t lost in the starry sky, I was lost in his blue eyes.

We lay there together listening the wave as JJ smokes his weed. The two of us remain silent as we simply watch the sky. “Do you ever wonder what’s up there?” JJ asked out of the blue. “Where?” His words made no sense to me. “Heaven. What do you think is up there?” I give it some thought before answering. “You.” I answer. His brows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean.” “I mean that if I were to go to heaven, I’d see you. There’s no such thing as heaven if you aren’t there with me.” When I glance over at him, I could’ve sworn I seen tears welling up in his eyes. “Do you mean that?” He questions. “Every word.” He places a soft kiss on my lips. “Aria, I” He’s interrupted by the sound of a door slamming shut. I turn to see who the intruder was.

There stands Jennifer with a face painted in shock. My heart stops for a moment before dropping to my stomach. I quickly cover my naked self with the blanket and quickly grab my dress. “I should’ve known you were hooking up with him, after all you’d open up those legs to anyone, you fucking pogue slut.” She spat and turned to walk away. “Wait!” I ran in front her, the straps on my dress falling, as I blocked the exit. “What are you doing?” I ask desperate for an answer. “To tell mom and dad. I’m curious as to what he would say when I tell him that his youngest daughter is fucking some pogue. JJ Maybank of all people.” Fear started to kick in. What I said next was unplanned. “And I wonder how he’s going to react when he finds out about your pregnancy.” JJ, Jennifer and I all freeze when the threat slipped from my mouth

I can practically see the panic wash over her body as it shakes. “And don’t try to lie to me. I found the test and ultrasound photo. I know all about it, and I won’t hesitate to tell dad.” “Just wait!” She shouts, desperation laced in her voice. “Don’t tell dad or Rafe. At least not now. Please, I’m begging you. They’d kill me.” So Rafe doesn’t know. “You haven’t told Rafe?” I asked astonished, but then again, I wouldn’t either. “No. It’s complicated.” Her lip begins to tremble. I have never seen her so scared or lose her cool. She’s always so calm and collected. “Well uncomplicate it for me.” I demand. A moment of silence takes over the room. JJ looks down at his blunt with a questioning gaze.

“Rafe’s not the father.” She says. “What?!” Both JJ and I exclaim collectively. “Wait, I’m confused. So, who’s the father?” I asked, feeding my curiosity. “Andrew Coleman.” She sighs. “Who the fuck is that?” The name has never crossed paths with me before. “He’s a lawyer. He lives in Boston. I’ve been seeing him for almost three years now.” The news came pouring out of her mouth. Words can’t describe the astonishment that courses through the room. “That’s why you keep going to Boston. To see him.” She doesn’t even respond as I finally connect the pieces. “But what about Rafe?” The question made her snap all of the sudden.

“Who cares?! I hate him! He could go to hell for all I care! I can’t stand him! He deserves to die! After everything he has done to me! He’s a violent and abusive asshole! He beats me, cheats on me with my best friend, and expects me to fuck him! And you know what the worst part is? Everyone thinks he’s some kind of perfect golden boy, but they’re all wrong. He’s the fucking devil and I wish I put a bullet through is head when I had the chance!” Every word that escaped her mouth had rung through my ears. She slides down to the ground as she sobs, her walls finally fall.

“Why didn’t you tell me this Jennifer? Why didn’t you ask for my help sooner?” I ask tears welling in my eyes too. “Because when I told dad that Rafe was abusing me, he called me a lying slut and said he’d kill me if I messed up my relationship with Rafe. He cares more about him than his own daughter, and I’m no better than him. I took out all my anger on you, because I was jealous.” Her confession felt like a punch to my stomach. “Why?” She just looks up at me.

“Because you got to live a life of happiness. With real friends and apparently a boyfriend who doesn’t hit you, while the man I love lives all the way in Boston. I should’ve been a better sister to you, but instead I lashed out at you all the time making your hate me, and for that I’m sorry.” Her words were genuine as she cried. I began to cry too.

“You’re my sister. I could never hate you. You might get on my nerves sometimes, but I could never forget the times you were there for me. Like when you carried me home after I broke my ankle after falling of my bike, or the time you stood up for me when that bully was throwing rocks at me. That’s the real sister I know. I just wish you told me all of this, so I could help you.” She hugs me tight and suddenly. It took me by surprise at first. I can’t remember the last time I shared a hug with my sister.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve to have a sister like you. I treated you so horribly. I just want to make things right. Please forgive me. I can’t live with you never forgiving me.” She sobbed louder. “I forgive you, but I need you to let me do something. Both her and JJ looked at me waiting for what I said. “Let me help you leave the Outer Banks.”

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x oc #obx netflix #lana del rey

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jojolightningfingers · 4 years

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my year in fic: 2020

it’s. it’s truly inconceivable to me that i somehow managed to write 46k this year. That’s over half the total word count on my ao3 at time of writing. For the first time ever, I broke 10k (AND 15k!) on a single project. This same project was the first chapter fic I’ve ever seen to completion. It’s... been an outstanding year for me, really.

worklist under the cut

Pruning: Yu Yu Hakusho, Yusuke/Kurama, 2.6k legitimately this fic was never supposed to exist. I wrote this completely unbeta’d in three days like a victim of demonic possession because ace fuckin goaded me and got me back on my bullshit and it gained so much more traction than i ever anticipated. i’d do it differently now, if it was a fic that i’d sat down and planned out, but? as is, i’m still rather fond of it.

Empty Vessel: Fire Emblem - Three Houses, Dimitri/Felix, 1.7k this... this is the one that i kind of wish had gotten more attention than it did, but i’m not surprised that it didn’t. it was a challenge fic, something that i’d written to distract me and keep me writing between dry spells on working on bigger wips. This also was a fic that arguably wasn’t supposed to exist, what happened was i heard Like Real People Do for the first time and had a straight up religious experience, and this refused to leave me alone until i got it out. it’s rather purple, looking back, but i did a good job sticking to the challenge, i think.

a dagger for impetuousness: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Bruno & Fugo, 2.8k I’ll be frank. I’m still not a hundred percent satisfied with how this one came out. Whether or not I’ll complete the series it belongs to remains to be seen, but I hope that someday in the future I will. There are things I still like about it (the way I indicated bruno’s problems with compartmentalization being foremost among them, I’m still pleased with myself over that), and things I don’t like about it. It’s an Okay Fic.

through other eyes: Final Fantasy XV, Prompto/Noctis, 750 the shortest fic this year! another result of being brainwormed, one that I thought was good enough to post. It’s purposeless, really, more an exercise than anything else, but I remain fond of it.

starshower: Dragon Ball Z + Ace Attorney, Clay/Future Trunks, 1.8k there’s a reason this one didn’t get it’s own post when I published it. no i will NOT elaborate. I got dared to, that’s all.

a touch of home: Haikyuu!!, Hinata/Oikawa, 9.3k god. talk about an EFFORT of a fic. When I started it, i figured it’d only be 3k, maybe 4k if I was lucky and rambled. it got to be three times that, and I’m still trying to figure out how. The idea of those two having a fling overseas must have really appealed to some part of me, I guess. you can thank @hawberries‘ fabulous art for kickstarting it.

Life on Gunsmoke: Trigun, Vash/various, 9k @ahkaraii‘s fusion comic made me finally sit down and binge trigun, during and after which I furiously wrote a shitload of little drabbles (some porny, some not) in ace’s dms, because if there’s one thing I love, it’s quasi-immortal character’s suffering. If there’s any other person on the planet who’s really into Vash/Livio, PLEASE step forward, i would like to talk to you.

take hold of the sun: Bleach, Ichigo/Grimmjow, 17.8k I... what do I say about this. This fic happened so fast and mutated so quickly, I’m still having trouble processing it. Before starting it, I hadn’t so much as thought about Bleach seriously for roughly 10 years. I was legitimately working off of fuzzy high school memories of all the lore and the character voices, and the events of the arrancar and hueco mundo arcs, which I never even finished! at conception, I was going to have it be in two chapters. In chapter 1, grimmjow realizes and accepts that he is touch starved. in chapter 2, he acts to fix it. somehow. five chapters and a half-finished epilogue later, I’m here, winded. the previous longest fic i’d ever written before this year was in 2015, it was only 8k, and it took me 6 months to do. a touch of home took 4 months. i wrote all almost-18k of this... thing... in 2 months with almost no planning aforethought.

i’m happy with it. I am. unimaginably so.

I wanna break my record in 2021.

#shitwritings #bizarre adventures

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hazelenergy · 4 years

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☕️ Gehenna

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Sometimes y’alls ramblings about Gehenna feel like idiots online screaming the world was going to end in 2012. For some of you, its like how people freaked about computers exploding on New Years in 2000. You rush to unplug all your devices before it’s too late, only to realize nothing bad was going to happen- you just made everyone freak out or possibly destroyed your computer.

No worries. I get it. The end of the world is terrifying to everyone.

But, I found it a bit odd that immortal beings would have a doomsday story. But then again, no one seems to have read the fine print on immortality where it clearly says terms and conditions apply. Regardless, my actual feelings on Gehenna have always been pushed down because a lot of kindred acted as if I personally was going to bring about the end times. But I can’t deny, I have experienced some weird stuff besides my general existence.

Living as the Tremere lab rat meant that no one would dare lay a finger on me directly without fear of Mary’s wrath. But it did mean I got subjected to their apocalyptic speculations. Most of the time I had no idea what they were talking about. Sometimes for fun, I’d just roll with it.

Once, a kindred asked if I’ve ever been pregnant. Which first off, rude and invasive. Secondly, I’m a big lesbian. The likelihood of me being pregnant isn’t zero, but it is slim. But this Malkavian had my attention. She looked older, maybe in her 50s and had streaks of silvery hair covering her eyes. I laughed and told her no. She smiled at me and then asked if I liked the name Wendy. I spoke before I had a chance to organize my thoughts and said Wendy is a cute name. She looked at me gravely and said I knew the time of thinblood would be upon us again. She then said, “Keep your legs crossed, Daughter of Eve,” and then left Elysium. Needless to say, I went back to Mary’s Haven instead of home with a new partner.

Within 24 hours of every Elysium we were ordered to spill our interactions and reveal any learned secrets to Mary. When I told her about this interaction she raised her eyebrow and got up to her filing cabinet. She pulled out a thin file labeled Dhampirs. The first article was a medical autopsy on an infant named Wendy- the research done by a Dr. Douglas Netchurch. Mary explained that it is rare, but thinbloods can and have carried children to term. And like the presence of thinbloods is a portent of Gehenna- their physical offspring is as well. She then laughed harder than ever before, wiping a bloody tear from her eye. I asked what was so funny. “You must forgive me, but the idea of you mothering a child is utterly amusing.”

I suppose this falls under the Gehenna where there’s too many of us and masquerade breaches are bound to happen. And when the mask is completely shattered, we are all in danger of humans destroying us. And I can’t imagine explaining to a toddler how to contend with the Beast and not hurt others with their powers. Seems like a recipe for disaster.

When I was much more settled in my Elysium routine, I had caught the attention of one of the younger Toreadors of Atlanta. Naturally, the Harpy made me extremely aware of everything about her and then Butternut, my nickname for the Nosferatu Primogen, told me everything else for 20 dollars. She was fond of the stars and their silvery light. I had offered to take her stargazing a little outside Atlanta in exchange for some vitae. This was a fairly normal transaction for me and I understood the price was steep for many. So I always tried to make it worth their while, with a nice night or a wild night depending on their tastes. She pointed out several constellations to me and their varying mythologies. I’ll admit, it was fascinating to hear what different cultures thought of different constellations. I could point out the obvious ones like Leo the Lion or the Little Dipper. She could point out ones that I could barely see, calling them things like Lyra and Crux. She told me of stories of constellations far beyond our sights, some of which can only be seen on clear nights in the Southern Hemisphere. That’s when I noticed it. A bright, gleaming red star in the center of the Big Dipper. It almost looked like an eye in the bright sky. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. But I willed myself to ask about it. She turned to me and playfully said, “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing there,” as she curled closer. I gently explained it was still there and asked her to tell me what it’s story could be. I think she thought it was some sort of game and made up some story to humor me. The rest of the night went as expected. I got to taste and temporarily brew Presence, she got the closest to Mary’s Haven without revealing her true intent and a one-night-stand with the Camarilla’s thinblood kitten. But I continued to see the star for several months.

I finally got an idea of what I saw when I met with a Salubri by the name of Nils. He explained that he foresaw something terrible would happen in the city of Atlanta, but the only way to stop the Wyrm was to travel to a city with a Salted Lake. It took a while for us to understand what he meant, and we don’t know if he was successful. To show his good will, he offered us gifts for the night and hope for eternity. For hope. he explained how thinbloods from his domain could walk this path and return to being mortal. For kindred such as himself, the sun is no longer an enemy. When he took Solomon’s hands, he quieted his raging beast for the night. When he took mine, he flinched for a moment like he wanted to let go. He looked into my eyes and said, “You poor childe. You willingly accepted madness to keep your heart from being poisoned. My soul aches knowing you have suffered so much.” Its then, I swear, his forehead began to faintly glow in the shape of an eye. When it opened, it glowed with the same red of that star. I wanted to run away as fast as I could, it didn’t matter how far I had to run. I pulled against his hands, but couldn’t get away. Then, my mind quieted. The thoughts that raced around my head stopped...I didn’t realize how muddled my mind had become. I looked back to see his eye closing, the red starlight shifting to gold. He released my hands and said, “You saw Ixion, no? I think a fledgling like you shouldn’t be weighed with the powers of an Oracle, but I am not one to cast final judgement. The power will return when your mind is clean.”

Turns out, in 2002, A red star was visible with a telescope and NASA named it Ixion, which is the Greek equivalent for Cain. I jokingly mentioned how Cain sightings are another portent of Gehenna but didn’t expect him to be such a star. Tommy and I laughed. Cass didn’t and then demanded to know how long I could see Wormwood. I explained that first saw it in early spring, 2019 and I haven’t seen it since October 1st, 2019. She made a series of frantic phone calls- I think she was checking up on kindred she used to run with. I’ve known for quite some time Cass used to be with the sabbat. I don’t know what happened between her and her pack. She usually is very willing to explain things to me, but her past is still a complete mystery- aside from her weird fling with Mary. ew. I can respect when she tells me to just drop it. But I can smell the strange shifting aroma from her resonance. She’s angry, then she is filled with sorrow, then she’s afraid.

I think about Gehenna more than a fledgling probably should and more than is probably healthy. It does make me uneasy for reasons I can’t explain. I guess since everyone else is so afraid- I should be too. However, I am curious to a fault. I have done some research into our doomsday myth. From what I’ve gathered, signs have been occurring for quite some time. And, we are all still here. Bad things seem to happen regardless, it doesn’t mean its Gehenna. But it is a nice scapegoat when things go wrong. Blame it on inevitable destiny rather than cascading consequences of poor leadership. The world is going to keep turning with or without us. Simple as that.

#ic #gehenna #//thanks for the ask!#long post #hazel answers questions #vtm rp #this is what we in the biz call heavy handed forshadowing

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kileyrose-2003 · 5 years

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Dan Torrance x Fem! Reader Part 3

A/N: Hi lovelies! Here comes another one of my extremely angsty psychological dive into Rose and Crow’s relationship. Lol. Very, very emotional write for me. Some of you might be wondering after you read this on just how exactly and I will simply say one thing: The relationship between Rose and Crow is very explicitly written and there while as in the film it is implied. In this AU I wanted there to be a reason why Rose and Crow seem more distant, hence why I am taking my own spin to them like this.

Anyways, I love you guys! I know there are a lot of people on Tumblr right now as well as myself dealing with the affects of COVID-19 in our every day lives. If you ever need anyone to talk to, my DM’s are always open. I might not be a therapist but I am willing to help :) I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe, lovelies!

Link to intro is here , pt. 1, and Pt. 2

Enjoy!

Warnings: Trigger warning for mentioned/implied child abuse, child death, baseball boy scene, blood, gore

“..Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me and especially don’t fucking touch me.”

“Crow-”

“No, Rosie! This is your fault. Not her fault, it’s yours. You hurt her! You hurt our baby!” In a rare display of emotion, hot tears were streaming down Crow’s face.

Rose chose her words very carefully before speaking. “..She is not our baby. We did not birth her into this world. She never belonged to us in the first place. And, no. I don’t hate her. I am not jealous of her either and I am not entirely to blame for all this. While maybe your way of thinking on this not being her fault may be correct, you are part of the reason to blame.” Her tone was calm and diligent like a mother trying to keep a tantrum prone toddler calm. “I told you from the start, that I didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be here. In general, our way of life is not fit for any child.”

“I-”

“Don’t talk! Just listen. You however insisted at keeping her here when I told you it wasn’t fair to her to live like this. Once she seen what we did, I did not want her to live like this. Had we of just-”

“Rose, I wasn’t just going to send her back to where she came from! Because-”

“Because you grew attached to her! When I told you not to get to fond of her too quick because it was supposed to be a trial thing. We don’t give affection to rubes, Crow. It’s a rule of thumb. That’s what we gave to her though. Not just you, but me too and I will admit with that I was wrong but yet you fail to recognize the reason I brought her into this in the first place was to make you happy and whether you think it’s right or wrong to do what I did to make you happy: I don’t care. To knock some sense into her was the only option. That was the only way she was going along with the whole thing though. So I did what I had to do, even if I didn’t like it. None of that would of happened though had you just let her go.”

Crow sat there on the ground, staring at the falling leaves around him while he processed every word that Rose said to him. “Comments?”

He had none. Yet. His head felt like a over boiling tea pot waiting to just spill over and burn the person closest to him. In that case, Rose. It wouldn’t be the first time he killed one of his lovers. His rage was infrequent but when it came out, it was a force to be reckon with like a blazing fire. It was what he related to most. It was the only thing that had passion that burned and grew as quick as he did until he met Rose. Rose burned as bright, if not brighter than he did. Crow wanted to kill Rose right then and there and she felt it. They all felt it.

Rose was quick to step away despite of her certainty he wouldn’t kill her. Yet something gave her the maybe, just maybe, he would one day. She’d make sure to keep that under control though and keep her dragon tamed.

Just like it wouldn’t be the first he killed a love, it wasn’t the first time he was a father either. Though that time was as far from him as the setting sun was near his finger tips, the memories though old and a little wishy washy, were engraved into his mind. The smell of smallpoxs immediately entering his nostrils at the thought of it. Just like he hadn’t forgotten the name and face of his own child, he was sure he wasn’t going to forget yours either. Or the way it made him the feel the last time he got to speak to you.

You felt stuck and he was stuck too. Except unlike the first child he lost, you didn’t feel scared to leave him. You felt almost relieved. Like you could breath now while the other felt like they were drowning in fear and pain. It was in that moment he realized you were scared of him. You were afraid he’d hurt you at one point

‘No, I wouldn’t hurt her,’ He told himself over and over. He would of never intentionally tried to make you scared of him or put you in a position where you felt uncomfortable. You adored him and he loved you just as much, if not more, than you loved him. You were his baby, even if it meant he had to kill to have you.

Finally he had his comment and the words came out full of fury and rage. “..Bullshit. You all fucking lie!”

…

He wouldn’t touch Rose for months let alone look at her until she forced him too and even then, that was a battle. He wasn’t the same after that. He became more cynical, more distant. Almost an empty shell of the person he was.

Any out spoken nature he had and was replaced by soft spoken snarkiness. There was no more The Irish Rose and her Crow. Only the remnants of a broken past and flings that occurred in the event of their primal feedings. Nothing more and nothing less.

While the stars shined down on you and Danny brightly as you were yet again acting out your passions in the privacy of your own home, Crow Daddy stood in the darkness of the abandoned ethanol plant in Bankerton, Iowa as he sharpened the blade of his knife. The only lights shining on him were the glares of The True Knot’s RV’S nearly blinding him.

He felt soft hands rub up and down the bare skin of his upper arm and a head press against his shoulder. Rose. “I’m excited. It’s been months since we’ve done our thing, you know?” She nipped the cartilage on his ear and fought the urge to push her away. “Sure,” He grunted.

Rose furrowed her brows. “Aren’t we testy tonight?” Crow fought the urge to laugh in her face. “When am I not lately?” She bit her lips. “You’re really going to do this. Right now?”

“It’s not like what’s been between us is exactly a secret to anyone in the family, Rosie.” She pulled away from him slightly repulsed and stretched her arms. “I’m ready.” The reply was snappy and quick and Barry was quick to obey.

'The boy is going to be the one to suffer for that reply but who am I care?’ Crow thought to himself as he looked at the bite mark the Baseball Boy left on his hand. 'The little bastard deserves it.’

“No! No! Please don’t! No..” The first couple of times he had to bare witness and participate in the unholy act after you left, he could hardly take. There was a slight lapse of faith and for a while he thought maybe he just didn’t deserve to have children. Now was different though. He felt numb.

After being in constant agony for over 20 years his sympathy began to decrease and soon he felt nothing for anyone. As Rose knelt down to Bradley Trevor’s level he took his position behind her, standing tall. To child on the ground, he was terrifying but the rest thought nothing of him.

Rose gestured for the knife and he handed it over immediately. “A-are you going to hurt me?” The reply was husky and menacing. “Yes.”

There were screams of protest but Crow took no mind to them. “Pain purifies steam. Fear too. So now you understand.” The Baseball Boy let out a scream of protest before Rose stabbed deeply into him.

…

Meanwhile as you laid in bed next to Danny who was in a dead coma, you felt someone poking at your mind. “Danny, stop it.” You elbowed him. He grunted and slapped your ass cheek. “W-wha?”

“You’re poking in my head again. Stop it.” He rolled over onto his side and shoved his face into the pillow. “I’m trying to sleep.” You rolled your eyes and as you went to wrap your arms around him, you felt the poke again. Accept this time it hurt. Like an electric shock.

(Hello?! Hello! Please tell me you can hear me.)

You paused before responding.

(I can hear you.)

(Good! They’re hurting him and they won’t stop.)

(Who is they?)

The response terrified you.

(The woman in the hat.)

All the sudden you felt nauseous and you gripped at bed sheets. You knew what was going to happen and you were terrified. The room began to slant on an angle and you gripped onto the head board tightly.

“Babe! What are you doing?” Dan sat up in bed and his face went flat at seeing the expression on your face. “Honey?”

You tried to respond to him physically but couldn’t so instead you turned to the person in your head.

(You’re mine and my husband’s pen pal, aren’t you?)

(Yeah.)

(Are you comfortable with telling me your name?)

(Yeah, it’s Abra.)

(Well Abra, can I ask you to do me a favor?)

The room began to tilt on an angle and you felt your grip on the head board becoming lose.

(Anything.)

(If I get stuck in here, tell Dan I love him.)

Your fingers lost their hold on the frame and you began to spiral down into a dark hole. 'This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.’ You prayed, silently hoping Abra was wrong but something told you she wasn’t. The dark hole began to reach it’s end and you had enough time to see trees and a sign that read 'NO TRESPASSING: BANKERTON ETHANOL PLANT’ When you felt the spiraling of your body stop.

Your astral body hit the ground hard and you had to spit the dirt out of your mouth. “Ugh, gross.” You attempted to reach forward to try and find something to grip onto that way you could stand up but your hand connected with human skin.

“Oh shit!” You scrambled back at the sight of Barry and you felt your body beginning to levitate upwards. “No! No! Please, please! I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see it!” Your body wouldn’t move though. You had to look. Unless you were going to get stuck here and hesitantly you opened your eyes. “Oh my god! Stop! Stop! Please stop!”

Your body began to lower and suddenly you felt eyes on you. One of them heard you. “No! No! No! No!” A hand ran itself through your long locks and you trembled.

“What is it?” You knew that voice and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know who was infront of you.

(Look at me.)

You shook your head but felt fingers lifting your head up to force you to look at them and slowly you opened them to see Rose. Her hands covered in blood and her eyes full of steamy lust.

(Well, hi there sweetie!)

Panic began to rise inside you and you reached out to Abra.

(Ru-)

Before you could even finish your thought, Rose plunged the knife back into the Baseball Boy and you let out a scream. “Holy shit! Holy shit!” You screeched feeling his pain.

(Funny how things come around isn’t it, Y/n?)

“Stop! Stop! Rose, please stop! Just stop!” Just as Danny was about to lay back down he jumped up in bed and gently shook your shoulders. “Y/n?! Baby? What’s wrong.”

(You got a friend there, Y/n? I want to see him.)

As Dan leaned over to caress your cheek, you pushed him back. “Y/n!” You could feel the rise Rose was getting out of your pain and it made you mad. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of getting kicks off your pain. “Get away from me, Danny! Get away!”

Instead of now just seeing Rose in your eyeshot all of them were in eyeshot with those haunting blue eyes staring at you and you slammed your head against the back of the bed. “Make it stop, Danny! Make it stop!”

This time when you tried to push him away, he held your arms down against your chest that way he could try to wake you up. “She’s going to see you Danny!”

(Yes, Danny. I am going to see you. That your little friend you made down in Florida?)

“Shut up!” You screamed. “Who’s going to see me?!”

“No!”

“God damn it, Y/n! Who do you see?”

BAM!

The room shook and Danny landed backwards onto the hardwood floor. Now he was pissed, not at you but whoever it was he couldn’t see. He grabbed your wrist to stop you from pushing him away. “Leave her alone!”

As Dan continued to shake your body and beg for you to wake up, the astral world around you began to slide. This time you were hanging upside down as you fell and as you did, yours and Crow Daddy’s eyes unintentionally interlocked though he would be aware enough to know it.

As you slammed back into your physical body, you rolled off the bed and hit your head on the dresser. “Oww!” You screeched and started sobbing. Dan tried to pull you into a hug but you kicked at him. “No! No!”

“Y/n-” You let out a scream. “Just leave me alone!” Danny backed away and you let out a sob. “What happened?” He asked gently as he scooped you up into his arms like you were a child. Normally you would protest said act but for right now, you didn’t care. You needed the comfort and that’s how he was giving it.

“They killed him..” You sobbed and you felt Danny let out a sigh as he ran his fingers through your hair. “They killed who?”

“That poor little boy!” You let out a screaming cry and buried your head in his shoulder. “Okay..okay.” You choked on your own sobs and nuzzled closely to him. “It’s alright.”

…

Meanwhile thousands of miles away, the lights of RV’s shined brightly in the darkness of the Iowa night on Crow and Rose as they buried the baseball boy.

As Rose finished throwing her scoop of dirt over Bradley Trevor’s glove she paused for a moment and looked at the ground. “We had a looker.” Crow stopped what he was doing and for the first time in years she actually seen a glint of what she would like to think was excitement in his dark eyes. “Tonight?”

“Yeah.” Rose dropped the shovel on the ground and Crow did the same. “East Coast, I think.” He furrowed his brows. “You’re saying someone looked in from I’ve 10,000 miles away?”

“Could of been farther. Could of been up in Canada, but it gets better. She wasn’t alone either.” Rose smirked slightly. “Y/n was with her.”

They say a picture is worth 1000 words but in that moment Crow Daddy’s face had an expression of infinite emotions. He tried tracking you down a few times after you ran but he honestly wondered what good it would do. He didn’t have to be in your mind to you were petrified of Rose and he figured you probably would want nothing to do with him. His mouth went dry and he felt like he wanted to throw up. “What?”

“Oh yeah and she wasn’t happy to see me either. The second she seen me stab into the kid she was out of there so fast and back to her man friend.”

“Man friend?” He looked boggled. “Oh yeah. Danny is his name. She wouldn’t let me get a look at him though..or the looker but I swear Crow Daddy, I haven’t felt power. Raw power like that off the looker than I’ve felt in so long..”

“Then do you think we should look into it? The sooner the better. Before her parents send her to a psychiatrist. Put her on pills. Muffle the steam and make her harder to find.”

“No, giving paxil to this kid is like putting a piece of saran wrap over a search light. And when either of them come back and trust me, I’ll know they’ll be back, I’ll be ready. Oh I’ll be ready..”

Crow dreaded the prospect though. He didn’t want to see you older. A little bit younger than him. It served as a reminder that time went comes and goes fast and there was no buying more of it. For the rubes at least.

“Besides,” Rose straightened her posture as if she was reflecting back on another thought. “What is tied can never be untied.” As Crow raised an eyebrow Rose met the look with a smirk.

…

Your hands shook as Danny handed you a cup of tea. “There we go.” He wrapped you up with a blanket from behind and hummed appreciatively “Thank you.” He nodded and there was an awkward moment of silence as he stared at the REDRUM on the wall in the next room. “So you going to tell me now or never?”

"Danny,“ You begged and he shushed you. "Just listen to me. I think it would help if you told me about it though.”

“There’s a reason why I don’t talk about my childhood, Dan.” He squeezed your hand. “I know.” You kissed the tops of his knuckles. “It’s painful.” Your voice started to crack.

“If you’re afraid of me thinking differently of you, I would never. I love you for you. Whatever they did, it’s not on you. Please baby, I know it’s hurting you. Just let me in.”

You sighed and looked down at your kitchen counter. “You remember when you met me all those years ago in Florida?” He nodded and rubbed the tops of your hands. “I was only there for a brief amount of time. I moved around alot as a kid. For a while I never really understood why.”

“You mentioned your family was pretty nomadic but what does this have to do with anything?” Dan asked softly and continued to caress your skin. “The people who raised me, they were special like us. They shined maybe as much, if not more than we did. There are things out there, dark things, that hurt people like us.” Tears started to well up in your eyes. “Y/n-”

“They make people like us never be seen again and they warned me about the dark things and told me to stay away from them but I didn’t know I really didn’t have to worry about them at the time.”

Dan wiped one of your tears away, trying to ignore the hairs sticking straight up on his arms. “Why?” Your teary eyes interlocked with his. “Because I was living with the dark things that hurt people like us.” His posture stiffened and he slowly let go of your face. “What?” You ignored his question, continuing to ramble on.

“They always looked the same. It was the strangest thing. My grandpa went from having a limp in his leg to walking without a cane over night and sometimes when they were near me, my one uncle always looked at me like he was hungry. I was nine and we were staying long term in Georgia for the winter because I was sick. It made my mom a nervous wreck, so she’d stay with me every night while I slept and the one night I woke up over night and she wasn’t there so I panicked and I just remember hearing these screams. They were awful. Like these husky barks and even though I was supposed to be in bed I got up to look for my mom and when I got up she was on top of this little boy and she was-” You choked up a little bit. “She was gutting into him like he was a fish and they were eating him.”

“Like Hannibal Lecter eating him or-” You shook your head. “His shine. They were drinking his screams and pain too.” Dan looked so upset. “Honey.” Your body wracked itself with sobs. “And I’ll never forget the look on his face! Like he was being violated.”

“W-what did they do when they seen you were there?” You tried to wipe some tears away but they just kept pouring rapidly. “Most of them didn’t care or notice at first. My dad on the other hand looked so mortified. I can’t remember if it was him or my mom that picked me up and kept telling me over and over again it was out of survival and that I wasn’t supposed to see it. That it was all for the better. That way they could live longer and be healthier and that they wouldn’t hurt me. They could never hurt me like that.”

“Please don’t tell me you believed them.” His tone almost sounded judgemental and you became defensive. “Dan! What was I supposed to do? They were my family and it’s not like I had any where to go to. Despite what they did, I still loved him even though part of me was scared of them.”

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this.” He kissed the top of your head and you had to supress the urge to just shove him away. “Could you live like that? Live a lie?”

“I kept my mouth shut, Danny and if you were in my shoes you would of done the same. For about 7 years we went on like that until my dad left for business for about a week and I finally couldn’t take it anymore and then truth came out about everything.”

You let out a screaming sob as Rose threw plates around you. “..They would of never of been able to provide for you the way your father and I did! Those rubes pigs were selfish and given the chance, they would of used you and abused you even more than they already did.”

You shook your head feverishly, trying to block out Rose’s word. “You were so desperate to have someone love you, that I barely even had to wipe your mind. You were so touch starved that we practically did nothing but hold you the first couple of weeks you were here. We loved you when no one else did! Not even your fucking mother.”

You choked on your own sobs and slumped down to the ground, not caring if the broken glass on the ground cut into your fragile skin. Rose knelt down to your level and began to pull some of the shards. “But don’t worry though, honey. Daddy fixed that issue.”

You felt your blood run cold and you tensed. “W-what do you mean?” Part of you knew the answer to that question though and you dreaded hearing it come out of her mouth. Rose reached up into a nearby drawer and pulled out an old Polaroid photograph. “Does that answer your question?”

“OH GOD!” You screamed and broke back into hysterics. “He never did it to hurt you. You wanted her dead. Trust me. It was all out of love, my sweet. Every single piece of it was out of love.”

"T-that’s not love!” You stuttered. “No?” Rose’s tone was cynical. “No!..”

“Y/n-”

“14 years, Danny. 14 fucking years, I let them scare me into thinking all people were bad besides them and I thought they were my family the whole time yet it was all just a lie!” Dan wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a kiss on your cheek, trying to process it all. Your water works started up all over again and Danny sighed. “Y/n..Y/n, it’s not your fault.”

“It is Danny! It fucking is! And then she started hitting because she knew I despised her for the truth and it hurt so bad because we went from being so close to so far apart.”

“Baby-”

“My trust with the rest of them too was so torn because they all knew what she was doing and they hid. Over two years I had to lie my dad because I didn’t want to make him upset because he was the only one of them that I trusted and then I let him kill my mother..”

“You were a child, honey. You couldn’t of known. It’s not your fault and that’s all over now. I’m here.” He rocked you back and forth as you cried into him. “And the worse part is that even after everything they’ve done to me, part of me still loves and misses them sometimes.”

Dan’s mind drifted back to his own father and he tensed, understand what it was like to still love the abuser even though they caused more damage than could be repaired. “I know, baby..I know. It’s a fucked up cycle.” You nuzzled close to him.

“Don’t leave me, Danny!” You begged. “I won’t..it’s okay.” As you wept into him, Danny looked off to the side room that had the ominous REDRUM scrawled on the walls and hugged you tight.

“We need to keep that little girl away from them Dan. They’ll hurt her.” He pulled away from you. “We? No! No there is no we in this. If anything, we should stay out of this.”

“Dan! You’re being selfish. We can’t just abandon this little girl.” He shook his head. “It’s not abandoning her if I tell her to keep her head down.”

“That’s the exact opposite of what we should do!” Dan huffed and you placed a kiss against his cheek, cradling his face in your hands. “Look, just listen with an open mind. Okay?”

He nodded and your eyes interlocked with his baby blue ones. “I know they work, Danny. That’s why they took me. To use my shine to find people. They’ll prey on people who put their heads down because it’s easier for them to seem like the good guys. It’ll make her more of a sitting duck. To make her hide this, all of this, it’ll just kill her self esteem and her herself. You have to encourage her.”

“Why me?”

“Because besides me, you’re probably the only person that hears her Dan. Who understands her. She knows you more than me because she turned to you first. You’re the only one who probably interacts with her the way people like us can.” You held his hands in yours. “Do you remember how lonely you felt being younger? We can’t let that happen to her.”

“And I can’t let you get hurt either. If these people, whatever the hell they’re called can find that little girl-”

“Abra. Her name is Abra,” You corrected but Dan only rolled his eyes. “-They probably can find you and I just-”

Dan visibly shivered. “I don’t want to even picture in my mind what things they’d do to you or what would happen you if they found you.” He cupped your face and took in all your features. “I-i’d never be able to live with myself, knowing I could of prevented it. I can’t- I won’t let them hurt you. They’ve done enough damage.”

“So that’s it? We’re just abandoning her?” Dan rubbed his face. “I wouldn’t call it that just..cutting ties for a while.” You pushed away from him and rolled your eyes. “Y/n, I’m sorry but I don’t want you getting killed!”

“Just don’t talk to me right now, Danny. I want to be alone.” You went back to yours and Danny’s bedroom and locked the door before he could get it. “Y/n..come on baby.”

“I told you I want to be alone.” You sat down with your back against the door and Danny did the same from the other side. “Okay..Honey?”

“Yes, Dan?” He laid his hand against the woods barrier between the both of you. “I love you.” Despite how mad you were, you smiled slightly and did the same. “I love you too..now go. Please.”

Dan did as you asked and as he made his walk to the guest room in the second floor of your house, he stopped at the spare room. Staring at the REDRUM on the wall before picking up a piece of chalk and scrawling a quick message. 'Abra: I hope you’re okay and you have a better day tomorrow. Your friends, Dan and Y/n.’

#doctor sleep #dr sleep #imagine #imagines #fanfiction #crow daddy #abra stone #rose the hat #Danny Torrance #dan torrance #x fem reader #x female reader #stephen king #The Shining #the true knot

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samsonet · 5 years

Text

Silver Dreaming (2/6)

That night, Raihan has a dream.

He’s on a rocky mountain, the highest point in Alola. The sun shines down on him, warm on his skin. His heart is racing. There’s a grin on his face.

He’s battling someone — he doesn’t know who — and it’s exhilarating. Flygon rushes across the battlefield like a shooting star. Whatever his opponent does, Raihan is one step ahead. He is winning and it is glorious.

On the other side of the battlefield, his opponent smiles.

At nine exactly, Professor Kukui walks through the door.

He’s grinning, buzzing with the kind of excitement people usually get at their first time in a stadium. Raihan doesn’t get to witness that kind of emotion often; by the time challengers get to him, they’re usually used to the spotlights.

“I’m glad you asked me here,” Kukui says. “Z-Moves need a lot of space, so it’s hard to find places to really show ‘em off, you know?”

Raihan doesn’t know, but he nods anyway.

They stand at the center of the pitch, side by side.

“Now, Z-Moves have a long history in Alola and are critical to our culture… but I can give you the full report later. You’ve got the Dragonium-Z on your Z-Ring, yeah, so if you send out a Pokemon with a damaging dragon-type move, you can use the ultimate dragon move!”

“Really? I’ve never been fond of Draco Meteor, myself.” But he sends out Flygon all the same.

“No, not Draco Meteor. Devastating Drake. It’s even stronger — trust me, I measured it. Now! Watch me!”

Kukui proceeds to… make the strangest poses Raihan has ever seen, and that’s counting the Charizard pose and dabbing.

“Can you copy that, cha— Raihan?”

With a shrug, he does. Let it never be said that the great Raihan does not have a good memory.

“Perfect! You got that like a Smart Strike! I knew you’d be a natural at this!” Kukui steps back, gesturing for Raihan to face the opposite end of the pitch. “Now, act like you’re in a regular battle. Do the pose, and channel the energy through you. And when you’re ready, command Flygon to use Devastating Drake!”

Either this is going to be the most humiliating experience ever, or it will be epic.

Raihan closes his eyes.

He crosses his arms and flings them out.

Are his fingers really tingling, or is he just imagining it?

Hands forward, palms facing together, fingers curled. A dragon’s mouth. Dragons guard treasure. Dragons are wise and terrifying. Dragons get slain and the fairytale still ends happily ever after.

If he opened his eyes now, they’d be sharp, glaring. That happens when he’s worked up. He’s still not entirely sure how he does it.

His heart is racing. His arms feel hot, almost burning, like he’s holding the sun in his hands.

Alola is paradise. Alola is full of friendly people and strong Pokémon. Alola has a desert where there’s a sandstorm always raging, and a guardian deity lives there.

He opens his arms, the dragon’s maw. Flygon cries out.

Maybe Raihan is imagining it, but at that moment, he’s certain that he and Flygon are completely in sync. He feels his partner’s excitement, feels the sun on his scales, feels the power coursing through every atom of his body —

Flygon roars.

Raihan roars, too.

“DEVASTATING DRAKE!”

The power courses through him like nothing he’s ever felt before. He stumbles back at the force of it, almost falling over before being caught by Kukui. He tears his eyes open just in time to watch Flygon unleashing the most awesome move he has ever seen.

A gigantic purple light in the form of an amphipthere flies across the pitch. It spirals up, then plummets to earth at the spot where an opponent would have been.

It leaves a smoking crater in its wake.

Oh, Arceus. Arceus. Arceus.

Raihan’s shaking.

He’s gradually aware of Kukui’s voice. “Deep breaths, cousin. Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Deep breaths.

In and out.

It takes him a while, but Raihan recovers. When he comes back to his senses, he realizes that he did not, in fact, faint or even fall over. Somehow Kukui has kept him upright. There’s nearly thirty-six centimeters’ height difference between them. How strong is this man?

“That was…” Raihan rubs his face. “I… man.”

“Intense, yeah? You did good. A Z-Move is powered by a trainer sharing their light with their Pokémon, so for yours to be so powerful on your first try… You’re amazing, Raihan! Exceptional!”

“Is it always this… draining?”

“Well, it’s like any other move, really. If you practice, it gets easier. You will practice, right?”

The Z-Ring glitters.

“...yeah. I’ll practice.”

“Great! If you want, I can call Kahuna Olivia later. She’s the one who made your Z-Ring. You’ll be working with her at the league.”

“If I become champion. If.”

Kukui’s smile falls, just the tiniest bit. “Still thinking about it, then?”

“Yeah. I am.” He’s not thinking clearly. This is a runner’s high, he knows that, and that means he’ll probably crash later, but… “Damn. That felt amazing. Thank you, Professor.”

“Anytime. Er… is there a place where you can lie down for a bit? You still look a bit unwell.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. If you can just help me back into the main building, Sebastian can help me from there. I don’t want to keep you from your other plans.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

Kukui walks him back inside, and the gym trainers take him from there. Raihan lets himself be guided to a back room. He drinks water and lets himself rest.

Today had been put aside to train for his battle with Nessa, but he’s not sure if he can handle his usual routine right now. Instead, he lets himself replay the Z-Move in his mind. The dragon, the light, the raw power from a Pokemon who couldn’t even Gigantamax…

He imagines his next match against Melony. Maybe he’d switch things up a bit, send out Duraludon first and save Flygon for last. She would be confused, of course. The whole stadium would be. The commentators would wonder what in the world he was thinking. Melony would Gigantamax her Lapras and wait for him to do the same with Flygon, but then he’d reveal his Z-Ring and unleash a Devastating Drake, and maybe he’d finally beat her for once.

He’ll have a match against her sometime next year. It’s more than enough time to get used to the move, to get accustomed to battling with it.

Next year —

No. Wait.

If he takes the offer, he won’t be part of Galar’s league by next year. He might never get the chance to battle Melony or Nessa or Piers or Milo again.

It’s… a shame.

But that’s what happens when you grow, right? Sometimes you have to part ways with people you used to know. He hasn’t battled Sonia in years, after all, and he doesn’t miss her.

Most of the time, at least.

A couple hours later, he’s recovered enough to head back out. His trainers seem relieved to see him. Raihan helps them finish repairing the pitch, then goes over their training.

At the end of the day, he goes home.

Sonia and Nessa are waiting at his door. Sonia’s holding a six-pack of soda in one hand and a bag of takeaway in the other. The food smells delicious.

“Glad you two could make it,” Raihan says, letting them in.

He doesn’t have to tell them to make themselves at home. They do it themselves, getting the fluffy blankets out of his closet and pulling out the folding table for the food. Nessa turns on the telly and sets it on mute. Raihan grabs the Leon Jar from the top of the fridge. It still has a few coins in it from last time.

They settle in, lounging on the floor. Sonia brought their favorites, as she always does: potato curry for herself, coconut curry for Nessa, bone curry for Raihan.

Sonia’s always been good at remembering things like that.

They meet up like this once a month, alternating who brings the refreshments and whose house they go to. They never really planned for it to become a thing. It just did.

There are rules, though.

Well, just one. Don’t mention Galar’s champion.

Usually, that’s not too hard. But if Raihan tells them about the offer…

He keeps quiet, at first.

Nessa’s talking about the maintenance plans for the lighthouse. Sonia’s concerned about how it’s weathering the summer storms.

“I don’t remember them being that harsh last year.”

Nessa shrugs. “Climate change. But the lighthouse will be okay. It’s been here for a hundred years, it’ll last a hundred more.”

“I hope so. I love that place.”

“Same. Hey, Raihan, you control the weather, right? Make it sunny around Hulbury for me, okay?”

Make it sunny. Like he holds the sun in his arms.

“Sonia,” he says. “Your gran is meeting with some guy from Alola, right?”

“Yeah, Professor Kukui. How’d you know?”

He takes a bite. “Mm… I might’ve spoken to him. Did he mention anything about the Alola league?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “I don’t think Alola has a league, Rai. They’re pretty traditional.”

“Yeah.”

Nessa sips her soda, looking him in the eyes. “Got something you want to share with the class, Raihan?”

“...if I tell you, you have to keep this a secret.”

“I can do that. Sunny?”

“My lips are sealed.”

Raihan leans forward. “Alola doesn’t have a league right now, but they’re setting one up. And Professor Kukui asked me to be the champion.”

As soon as he says it, he realizes how silly it must sound. He can’t take the title in Galar, and then all of a sudden someone from another region walks in and offers it, no strings attached? Ridiculous.

The girls don’t seem skeptical, though. They just look at him curiously.

Nessa asks, “But what about Leon?”

“Hey! You said his name!”

Nessa snorts, but puts a pound coin in the jar. Then, staring Sonia in the eyes, she puts in another. “Seriously, what about Leon? His rivalry with you is like half of the reason people come to watch his matches. Is Rose really going to let you off so easily?”

“I don’t know. Rose seemed pretty excited about it.” Raihan leans back. “Oleana said, too, that if I go, you would be that guy’s greatest rival.”

Nessa looks down. He knows that expression on her face: she’s imagining it. She usually loses to Raihan on the second round of the finals; with him gone, she’ll likely be the one facing He Who Must Not Be Named for the champion title. She’ll lose, of course, but as his new Greatest Rival she’ll be lifted from mere second gym leader to something higher. She’ll get the adoration, the respect, the sponsorships…

She deserves it all, honestly. He couldn’t pick a better person.

“Are you…” Her voice is hesitant. “Are you going to accept, then?”

“I’m still thinking about it. But honestly? The idea is kinda growing on me.”

“You’ll let us know before you leave, right? We have to throw you a party, and Gran will probably have things to ask you...”

“Sure, sure. Anything for Sunny’s granny, right? I haven’t accepted yet, though, so let’s not talk about what-ifs. Ness’ and I have a match to prepare for. There’s no way I’m going to lose!”

“Oh, just you wait!”

A couple hours later, they’re ready to call it a night. Nessa and Sonia share the guest room, as usual, and Raihan goes to his bedroom.

He turns on his phone and checks his notifications.

His last selfie, from yesterday morning outside Rose Tower, has six thousand likes. The comments section is full of questions about what he was doing there.

Nessa’s official account has some pictures from her latest shoot. He gives the post a like.

He scrolls through a while longer, but nothing else catches his interest. Still, he’s not quite ready to unplug yet.

He texts Piers. U up?

Dark specialist, mate. I’m practically a Noctowl.

Then, before Raihan can type a reply, Piers sends another message: Is this about the Alola championship?

How the fuck do u know about that?

Don’t ask and I won’t lie. Okay, it’s like this: You were at Rose Tower. So was that professor. He’s been talking about looking for a champion. It’s not hard to put two and two together.

He doesn’t like that. Piers is a good guy, but he’s from Spikemuth, and Spikemuth isn’t known for being quiet. And that’s not even mentioning how the rumor ended up reaching him in the first place…

It was supposed to be a secret.

I won’t tell anyone. Cross my heart. The rumor is going to spread, though. You know how the tabloids are. Promise you’ll let me know before you leave?

There’s yet another person acting like he’s definitely leaving. Is there something in the way Raihan talks that makes them think he’s pretty much accepted the position?

I havent decided that I’m going yet. but I’ll tell you if I do

Three dots appear, a signal of Piers typing.

He continues typing for five minutes.

It makes Raihan anxious.

At last, the message appears: Have you thought about who’s going to take care of Sandaconda and Duraludon?

What?

Alola has a pretty limited dex, mate. I don’t know if you’ll be allowed to take them out of Galar.

Really?

He’d known Turtonator was native to Alola. He’d sort of assumed all the rest of his team would be allowed there, too.

Raihan fact checks this in this quickest way he knows how: googling it.

Turtonator, check. Goodra and Flygon lines, usually found on Ula’ula. Turkoal, also found on Ula’ula.

Sandaconda and Duraludon…

Not part of the dex. Not found in the region naturally. In other words: not allowed.

As the champion, Raihan could be an exception, right? Didn’t champions usually have exotic Pokémon on their teams? If he makes it a strict condition, there’s no way Kukui would refuse to let him bring his partners, right?

But that’s wishful thinking. Raihan knows his Pokémon well. He knows the Sandaconda line, in particular, could cause trouble if one somehow made its way into the wild.

So if he leaves, he’s going to play by the rules.

It probably rains a lot in Alola, he thinks. They won’t be happy there anyway.

He texts Piers: I’ll probably ask Aria to take care of em.

He doesn’t want to think about how Piers is likely judging him on the other side. Raihan is selling out, and he knows it.

Going to bed now. Talk to u tmrw.

Raihan sets his phone to Do Not Disturb, and tries to sleep.

#pokemon swsh fanfic #raihan pokemon #professor kukui #silver dreaming

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klngofdarkness · 5 years

Text

Discord Thread Archive - #2

This is a thread written on “Klonoa Party”, a server on Discord with Maxipawz, available on Twitter and DeviantART.

Characters: Lephise, Ghadius

Setting/s: Kingdom of Cress

Notes: This thread takes place shortly after Klonoa: Door To Phantomile and this thread.

@driftstar13

"Interesting..." A haunting voice echoed through the hallways as an unfamiliar figure wandered them, lost in thought as he pondered how fae had him continue to exist. Luck wouldn't be smiling upon him today. would it? No, it was too good to be true. "What happened... is quite interesting." He seemed to mumble to himself aloud.

@maxipawz

A figure of much smaller stature was trailing right behind the strange person. She seemed to look a little more carefree, even twirling around one, letting her ponytails swing around. "Ahh...goodness, early day, and the sun's already out..."

@driftstar13

"The sun has always burned in my eyes." Ghadius complained. "When it comes I'd rather hide away. You must understand..." Sure, it made sense. He was quite pale after all, at least from what could be made out from his face.

@maxipawz

"I don't blame you. The sun is rather strong during this time of the day, and the heat is just too much for me. These are days where I wish I didn't have to wear such heavy clothes." Lephise sighed softly. "Let's just stay indoors all day. It's much cooler."

@driftstar13

"You are quite agreeable, Songstress." Ghadius observed, bending down a little to glance back at her. The only part of his face that Lephise could really read was his mouth, which carried a little smile. "Yes, that would be preferred. But it's not like you must keep me company. I am not a mischievous child wishing to cause a scene as soon as it is left unattended. I promise you, I will do no harm."

@maxipawz

"Ohh, believe me." The Songstress giggled, "I am a little rambunctious myself, but I know my limits. I might be more of a handful to you than you are to me." Bravely, she decided to reach up to gently touch the king's beak-like mask. "Besides, I've had my fair share of younger kids running around the place. It's...an experience. An experience I don't have to clean up."

@driftstar13

"Hmm?" Ghadius kind of just froze in place as Lephise reached out to hold Ghadius's mask. Was she trying to take it off? He just patiently stood there, not sure what exactly her gesture meant. "Is that so? I haven't seen many children, but their nature is very... inspiring."

@maxipawz

Thankfully, Lephise showed no signs of wanting to de-mask Ghadius, merely petting his beak as a sign of friendliness. A weird way to do it, but well-intended. "They're the most innocent ones of this land, so naive and adventurous. They give me the motivation I desire whenever I am slow. Though, I must give my condolences to the parents of those with children who just love to get into trouble. It's...rather humorous."

@driftstar13

"That is true. However I've never experienced that for myself." Ghadius explained and stood up, denying Lephise the “tuch bek". He simply continued wandering, "I have not met children. Not many, at least. I'm quite sure that they'd run to their mothers crying if they witnessed me. I understanding that I am not what this world considers 'beautiful'."

@maxipawz

Lephise want tuch bek. Bek was tuch. Lephise was satisfied. "Aaaah...I wouldn't say all of them would. In fact, it takes one curious, brave child to let the others know you are no threat. Once one starts climbing over you, the others will, and then you will have wished they were afraid of you." Lephise giggled, placing her hand below her mouth.

@driftstar13

"I had to learn this the hard way." Ghadius stated, "Having creatures thrown at you is more painful than it appears. I've underestimated the strength and perseverance of that dream." The entity cast his gaze up, pondering. "Klonoa..."

@maxipawz

"Klonoa..." Lephise spoke up. Her eyes trained to the ceiling, as she lost herself deep in thought. She remembered that bouncy hero. A charming friend of this world. It was such a shame she could not personally offer more appreciation for his hard work. If only he could've stayed. "I believe we all have. It's not every day a young child is brought to our world, capable of feats far surpassing ours. Perhaps those are the greatest heroes." She stopped her ramble for a moment, glancing to him. "On the bright side, I assure you these children don't nearly do as much moo-flinging."

@driftstar13

Ghadius lowered his gaze, and stared down the hallway. It was empty, but he could still see that child making his way through all the same, batting aside any enemies that he had thrown his way. He and that prince, Hewpoe. His gaze eventually sunk to the floor. "I understand." he spoke, accompanied by an idle chuckle. "It doesn't compare to the pain of failure, dear Songstress... Or the pain that I have caused you."

@maxipawz

"Hmmm.." Lephise sighed idly, her head tilting. His words didn't bother her too much. She knew there was some sort of soft side to him, though the challenge was finding it. "Pain and failure bring out the worst in us, but sometimes, they make us stronger. A little suffering goes a long way. Believe me, children can be a nightmare. It really isn't that much of a comparison." She giggled once more.

@driftstar13

"Children are not comparable to nightmares." Ghadius exclaimed, and his voice became uncharacteristically loud as he laughed. He probably didn't expect her to say that, and it just amused him to no end. The entity turned around, once more facing Lephise. "It is funny, how you can simply laugh it all off... It's necessary to move on, isn't it? After all, dwelling in the past is a miserable thing to do."

@maxipawz

Ghadius' laughter sometimes struck fear into people, but Lephise could tell this was uncharacteristic of him. The way he sounded so genuinely joyed by such a comment. "Exactly. Moving on is a part of life, and humor helps us cope. It is one of the lessons Phantomile has to re-learn. This surely will mean more hearts may be broken as time goes on, but...well...we'll just have to teach them to come out stronger."

@driftstar13

"Maybe so." The emperor commented, glancing out from one of the arches at the world below. "However these people enjoy to find something to blame, and surely they are blaming me for what has happened." He was right in a way. Ghadius was to blame for a lot of horrible things that had happened. "You may forgive me, Lephise, but Phantomile may not. They may continue to shun me, to shun nightmares and cast away the cruelty of reality. That's just the truth."

@maxipawz

Lephise soon joined Ghadius' side, glancing down at from the balcony with a bit more effort, being smaller. "It is a sad truth in your words. That is why I knew this world was so flawed. Once they learn to take their own actions to blame for their wrongdoings, I pray to see some change. I feel anyone can redeem themselves within time. Teaching the newer generations not to fear you is a step in the right direction."

@driftstar13

Lephise was fair. It still felt odd, almost wrong, that she was giving him a chance. "To be able to breathe fresh air again has cleared my head just a little." The spirit reminisced, "I know that I am far from welcome. I am used to it. Do not waste too much time trying to make people accept something that they have long chosen to loathe." With that Ghadius kept walking. Where were they going again?

@maxipawz

"Under this kingdom, you are in safe hands." Lephise insisted. "They simply need their time. If ever. Otherwise, we just keep looking forward." She followed him out, also unsure of where they were going. Praying it wasn't going to be over the edge.

@driftstar13

Suicide wasn't something that Ghadius was interested in. Maybe he was just happy that he could explore and be somewhere without being cast away. "Of course." He responded to her thoughts, "I suppose I must return to my kingdom. It has been without a ruler for so long. Until then..." The entity turned to face Lephise. "... is there anything you need or wish to address?"

@maxipawz

Lephise too wasn't a fan of going to commit die. But she was fond of how much her new guest wanted to explore. "Ahh, yes, to truly live side by side. Perhaps we could become that 'silly neighbors' cliche. I can peer over a fence and ask you what's troubling you." She couldn't help but giggle some more. "Oh, my funny bone will be aching tomorrow! And to think I'm not that old..."

@driftstar13

Ghadius smiled. For someone to take their situation so lightly; it amused him. Perhaps it was what he needed, an aid to help his broken mind heal. Perhaps he wasn't too far gone yet. "I'm afraid that I've lost my humor over the years. That is, if I have had any to begin with." He observed, "If you call my name I will come. Do expect me to return regularly."

@maxipawz

"I can understand, after being without contact for so long..." Lephise spoke softly, her hands held together. "Ah, please do visit. It would be wonderful to have you around. I myself may offer a more lighthearted conversation rather than a deep, meaningful one, but you should come to me if you wish to clear your mind. Perhaps I can get you acquainted with others close to me."

@driftstar13

"Of course. Your friendliness means a lot to me. It surprises me that I have somebody to speak to at all. I must appreciate what I have. I don't know much time I will have to appreciate it." The elder spirit elaborated, and nodded his head to Lephise. "I will see you, Lephise." Ghadius greeted and held out his cloak, a cloud of deep-purple smoke enveloping his form before he brought it together, disappearing suddenly.

@maxipawz

"See you around, neighbor." Lephise spoke farewel as Ghadius made his departure. With him gone, she was now alone, having the area to herself. She hustled her way over to a bucket that was sitting on the floor. Glancing around, she then placed it over her head. "Laaa, lalalalaaaa, laa laaaaa...laaaaaa-oho, it really does amplify my voice! Lalalaaaaa, laaaaa, lalalaaaaa la laaaaaa~ LaaaaaaaAAA-OW!" Her poor body tensed up as she pulled the bucket off her head. "...Well...if that doesn't wake me up, nothing shall..."

#𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒 // IC #Closed Thread #Discord Thread #Maxipawz #Klonoa: Door To Phantomile #𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈... // Lephise

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inkysunset · 5 years

Text

On the platform (Cold Feet fanfic)

I wrote this a while ago. Was a bit confused by the whole Karen and Adam thing in Cold Feet. It’s how I imagined Karen’s conversation with Dan (the vicar) went on the train platform at the end of Ep05Series8. It’s fanfic and so none of the characters is my own.

————

“Dan…”

His face creased into a smile, eyes twinkling with delight at seeing her. “Karen.” He said, with satisfaction, “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

Uneasily, her eyes scanned the station platform. The place was quiet – only a few travellers willing to substitute the balmy evening for a stuffy train carriage to London. Karen opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t form.

“Here, let me take your bag.” Dan smiled, affably.

He leaned towards her, but she remained motionless, her grip tightening on the strap of her weekend bag. She cleared her throat, “Dan, I’m sorry.”

“Ah.” He paused before taking an embarrassed step backwards. Karen frowned up at him; her eyes were deep with apology, her nose wrinkled with self-disapproval.

“You’re not coming are you?” He laughed, awkwardly. Yet, despite his evident disappointment, his good-natured smile remained.

“No.”

“But you’re all packed?”

“I know. I was intending to come… I was looking forward to it. It’s just…” Once again, Karen found herself at an uncharacteristic loss for words, “… just… something someone said…” Her voice trailed off, as for the billionth time, she revisited the swell of feelings that had flooded through her only fifteen minutes before.

“Someone?”

She looked up at Dan, her face a picture of confusion. What on earth was happening here? Was she really going to countenance this… this… ‘thing’ with…

“Adam?”

To her surprise, she didn’t flinch at the mention of his name. Rather, her stomach twisted in that increasingly familiar, pleasurable ache that had been building over the past few days, weeks… months, if she was being entirely honest. She bit her lip and looked down at the platform, frowning hard.

At length, she nodded - as much in acknowledgement to herself as to Dan.

“I’m sorry. Dan, I must seem awful. But… it’s come as a bit of a surprise. Not exactly out of nowhere, but I honestly wasn’t expecting it.” She shook her head, uncomfortably, before meeting his eye again, her arms wrapped defensively around herself. How strange that Dan – almost a stranger – was the first person she was admitting this to.

He smiled, wistfully, shoving his hands into his pockets, “So Nina B was right after all.”

“What?”

“Love comes slowly.”

Karen groaned and rolled her eyes, “Dan…”

He laughed, sagely, “Karen, I may wear a dog collar, but I’m not completely naïve. It was… um… fairly obvious the other night that there is something between you two.”

Again, she opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. She knew Dan was right. She’d been ignoring the niggling suspicion - actively trying to suppress the complicated sensations she’d felt around Adam lately: the ease of his company that had started to slide into something more significant, the things he had said that had begun to linger on her mind, the way she felt when he looked at her. And then there had been that kiss…

“I suppose I thought that I might be able to tempt you away… not just geographically… but I thought London was a good start…”

Dan was talking but Karen’s mind was elsewhere. For so long, she had had her head in the sand. The kiss at the festival had been frivolous, careless… stupid. Ever the control freak, she was annoyed with herself for letting it happen, but it had completely blindsided her. It had been so far from the list of possible scenarios for that weekend, it hadn’t even made it into her consciousness until his lips were on hers, her head hazy with the effects of the weed. By then it was too late. That bloody spliff. Had she not been stoned, there would have been no question of it happening. She would have evaded it and, in any event, Adam wouldn’t have dreamed of it…

Wouldn’t she? Wouldn’t he?

The feelings were now so intense, she wasn’t so sure. Her mind raced. Had this been building for years? Had their friendship always had an edge?

Had the deep longing to go to him, right now, really come out of nowhere?

“Karen, you look like you’re in pain!” Dan touched her arm and she managed a dismissive smile. “It’s ok, you know…” He laughed, teasingly, “I’ll get over it!”

She smiled in response, grateful for his magnanimity, “Oh God, Dan – I know! I don’t have that high an opinion of myself, believe me!”

They both stared at the train tracks for a few moments, deep in thought.

“It’s complicated between you and Adam, isn’t it?” Dan offered.

Karen sighed heavily, “That’s the understatement of the century.” She scoffed, “What with his dead wife – my best friend… and my ex-husband, Adam’s best friend… he and I would certainly not be a sensible decision. And that’s not to mention our other best friend who has cancer, who I am fairly certain will not approve, nor Adam’s son and my daughters, who have their own intertwined and complicated story…”

“No, that doesn’t sound very straightforward…”

“It would be the sense of betrayal, you know?” Karen poked at a cigarette butt on the platform with the sole of her shoe.

“Is that what’s holding you back?”

Karen looked up, past Dan, into the distance, squinting in the sun. “Not just that.”

It was a big part of it. But there was also her own confusion to be dealt with. Why was she suddenly feeling like this after all these years? What had changed? What were these feelings? Of hers, of Adam’s? Was it lust? Loneliness? Curiosity? Convenience? On paper, it was such a stupid idea. Adam was… well, Adam. The loveable rogue, the commitment-phobe, the womaniser. Objectively, she shouldn’t want to touch him with a barge pole. But subjectively…

… subjectively, she was being confronted by the position he had assumed in her life. Best friend, confidante, clown. She loved him. There had always been a fondness between them and, since Rachel died, a sense of protection: a deep-seated regard and care for him that allowed her to forgive his occasional amoral antics. She and Adam were openly affectionate towards each other: tactile, close – nothing had changed there - but the kiss had shifted what lay beneath, unearthing something more… significant. “Significant” was the best word she could find for it right now. It wasn’t lust – or rather, not just lust – and yet it wasn’t being suddenly in love with him either. It was an elephant in the room, so palpable she wondered how long it had been there, lurking whilst they each had had their own distractions. It was something alarmingly powerful; something that was winning over her better judgment.

Adam obviously felt it too. To his credit, he’d done the running so far. Or perhaps that was just his style: act now, think later. Was she a conquest? No, that was unfair. Adam could certainly be a shit with women, but if there was anything she was certain of, it was that his friends meant the world to him – especially since his return from the Far East. He wouldn’t jeopardise his relationship with everyone – their entire friendship group - for a fling.

She replayed their conversation in his backyard in her mind for the umpteenth time. His words - “Do you have to go? Really?” – and the look on his face when she got up to leave. He’d laid himself bare, taken the risk. As usual, he was slightly ahead of her, plunging in head first whilst she dallied by the water’s edge. But she hadn’t missed the depth of his expression, the darkness in his eyes: it was longing. Again, her stomach twisted, as she felt her body reciprocate, her mind clambering to catch up.

The thought of him flooded her consciousness: his smell, his touch, the newfound intimacy in his tone of voice as they’d talked. It was bizarre that it could all be hers for the taking: so very familiar and yet so utterly new. She couldn’t think straight; her thoughts were completely clouded by the novel sensations her body was throwing into the mix, but her gut instinct was clear: she wanted this. She wanted him. As complicated, messy, silly, stupid and shocking as that sounded: she wanted him.

The noise of the train approaching roused her from her reverie and she looked up apologetically at Dan. He smiled back.

“Sorry to leave you in the lurch.” She murmured, nodding in the direction of the train.

“It’s OK. Like I said, I’ll get over it.”

The train drew in and they shuffled towards the nearest set of doors. Dan touched her elbow, “Don’t overthink it, Karen. Just do what you feel.”

“That’s odd advice from a vicar. I thought it was all about inner virtue and self-restraint for you lot?” She narrowed her eyes at him, questioningly.

He laughed in reply. “Nah. The Big Man just wants us to be happy, you know?” He boarded the train and turned back towards her. “Love one another, tread gently on this earth and… be happy.”

“Really? That simple?”

“Yeah. He’s not such a beardy old man as some people make out…”

Karen rolled her eyes. How ironic that religion was now being used to support Adam’s point of view. She’d have to tell him that.

The train doors alarm began to signal their closing. Dan smiled widely and genuinely at her:

“You’re lovely, Karen. And you deserve to be happy. I hope you work it out.”

She stepped backwards as the doors closed and, smiling, blew Dan a farewell kiss. She watched him find a seat as the train pulled away from the platform.

And suddenly she felt calm. She knew what she had to do.

#cold feet tv #karen marsden #cold feet fanfic #karen and adam cold feet #fanfic

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stardust-and-blades · 5 years

Text

Lost Future AU--snapshots 2 (part 8-ish?)

“This can’t get any more painful”

me: hold my beer

------------------

“No. Nope. Not going.”

“Oh come on, Keith.” Lance begged. “It will be fun! If we want to wow the guests we need to learn some choreography.”

“YOU want to learn choreography.” Keith pointed out, crossing his arms. “I would rather stand at the sidelines and watch as you dance with Hunk and Pidge.”

Lance tapped him on the nose with a wooden spatula, the food he was making on pause. “No, that isn’t romantic. That is sad.”

Keith scrunched up his nose. “It’s not sad, it’s practical.”

“It’s stupid.”

Keith growled, frustrated. “I’m not doing it. I’m not going to make a fool of myself in front of over fifty people.”

Keith hopped off the kitchen stool and began to head for the room, ignoring Lance’s call. He heard him swear, no doubt putting the food on simmer and chasing after him. Keith made it a point to lock the bedroom door, Lance turning the handle and swore again.

“Keith, open the door.”

He remained silent, leaning against the bed frame and picked up his headphones, prepping to drown out Lance’s begging.

“Keeeeeiiith, please open the door. I know you hate dancing but I swear on my life you’ll do great. We have two months, we have time.”

Keith bit down on his flaring temper. God, why can’t he just let it go? He loves Lance, but sometimes he just doesn’t give up.

“Okay, how about this,” Lance reasoned. “We go to the lessons. If you’re still not comfortable by our last session, we don’t have to dance. I’ll let Hunk and Pidge take the wheel and do something else together. But...”

Keith stopped mid-earphone, one half hanging from his neck while the other neared his ear, rock music on full blast.

“But?”

There is a shift against the door, Lance most likely leaning his head against it. Not to hear, but in a way for him to be closer to Keith. To surpass the barrier Keith has drawn up, be it physical or mental. Keith knew he shouldn’t be this worked up. He usually isn’t. But venturing on unfamiliar territory in front of friends and family...it stirs something inside him that makes him feel wrong.

Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean he wanted to ignore Lance’s wishes. He wanted to dance with him. To create a memory they can look back on in fondness. Yet he knew, just knew he would fuck up. He doesn’t want to ruin the wedding in any way, no matter how big or small it was.

“But I want you by my side.” Lance said softly. “Hunk and Pidge are fun to dance with. But you? We never really tried. I want to hold you close to me. I want our first steps in our marriage to be a dance, because that is what being in a relationship with you has been: beautiful and free. You make me happy, Keith. And I want to show it to everyone. I want to show YOU off. Again, we will do what is most comfortable, but it...would mean the world to me if we could try.”

Now how was Keith going to say no to that?

He relented, casting his phone and headphones away and opened the door.

“Fine.”

Lance clapped his hands and hugged him before Keith pointed out the food may be burning.

--------------------------------

Keith and Lance were just finishing up their dance lessons for the wedding one day, Keith’s two left feet definitely getting the best of their teacher by the end of the night. Lance insisted they have a dance as husbands, and though Keith likes the idea of it, he wasn’t much of a dancer. In fact, he made it a point he skipped his spring fling and prom in high school because A: he had no one to go with, and B: can’t dance to save his life. Engage in combat? Yes. Lovingly twirl around a ballroom for an hour? Might as well be asking him to fly.

The teacher had left by the time the two changed back into their regular clothes, Keith in t-shirt and jeans with a hoodie over it and a beanie, while Lance sported more fashionable wear. The only clashing article he was wearing was his plastic bracelets, some saying ‘free the nipple’ and another saying ‘just getting bi”.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to waltz anytime soon.” Keith commented, hauling his bag over his shoulder.

“Not with that attitude you won’t. Come on, it’s not a wedding without dancing.”

“I know, I know.” He pulled at his long hair, a nervous habit. “But you saw today. I’m pretty sure the instructor will have bruises for days.”

Lance laughed and walked over to his fiance, wrapping his hands around his waist and kissing his forehead. “Oh I noticed. Who would have thought the combat specialist would be bad at dancing.”

“It’s Krav maga. And the two are very different.”

“Both involve being quick on your feet.”

Keith sighed. “What are you getting at?”

“That you can dance. Just think of it as another way of fighting.”

“That’s hard to do with someone I love. I only wanted to kick your ass when we hardly knew each other and you were being a di--”

Suddenly the arms around Keith’s waist were gone and he was spinning, the lowering sun blurred into an abundance of oranges and yellows. He was falling to the ground, Keith bracing himself for impact. But instead an arm caught him by the waist, the other hand holding his. Lance was smirking down at him, proud of his ability to surprise the boy who was always on guard. Always ready for Lance’s antics. But this time he had him, and he did not hesitate to show his pride. Keith stared back at him, split between making heart eyes our retaliate.

“Someone is speechless.”

“Um...Uh...” His face slowly grew red, his pale skin not helping him in concealing it. “You just...caught me off guard.”

“Yes I did.” Lance grinned and bent down, closing the distance between the two. Keith tilted his head up, his eyes fluttering until--

Keith knocked Lance’s feet from under him and stood up, just barely catching the screaming boy from impact. Keith pulled his arm and looked back at him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Who is speechless now?”

“No fair! You know you can’t use your skills against the innocent!”

“What you going to do, fight me?” Keith invited him with a quirk of his eyebrow and shift in stance, but Lance just pouted, crossing his arms.

“Cheater.”

“Scaredy cat.”

“I am not scared!” He proclaimed indignantly.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“You do not want to tempt me.”

Keith just smiled more, that smug glint sparkling in his amethyst eyes. They shown with such a brilliance in the low light, the darkness fading away and making them appear as if they were pure gems. Keith stance took on one readying for an attack, one foot backwards and the other forward. He straightened his back, puts his hands out, and waited. Of course he really didn’t think Lance would take him up on his challenge. They had this kind of bickering before, Lance usually sticking his tongue out and walking away, or was the one doing the daring.

Keith really wasn’t serious in his stance, for he jumped when Lance straight up ran to him. But rather than slam his body against the wall or floor, he seized Keith by his waist and lifted him. Keith squawked, losing his balance and almost toppling onto the taller boy. Lance was unnaturally strong, something he hid by his lanky-ness.

Keith steadied himself by placing his hands on Lance’s shoulders, staring him down.

“What are you doing?”

“Proving a point.”

“In what? That you are bad at combat and want to swoon the enemy?”

He shook his head. Rather than answering, he dropped Keith and took his gloved hand and his other arm wrapped around the smaller boy, pulling him close. “Proving you can learn a thing or two from me.”

It took a moment for it to process in Keith’s flustered brain. “You are not going to teach me how to dance.”

“Oh I am.” Lance smiled. “If you can fight, you can dance.”

He reached inside the pocket of his jeans and extracted a remote, aiming it to the speaker on a table in a far corner. “Chasing Stars” by Fleurie came one, one of the few songs the two agreed to play at their wedding. Keith wondered for a minute how he got the remote from the instructor, but his thoughts were interrupted from Lance pulling Keith.

“Just follow my lead.” Lance said. Keith tried to copy his steps; tried not to hurt his toes. His eyes remain on the floor, watching his feet closely that he forgets the rhythm. Forgets who he was dancing with. Lance did so well with the instructor, Keith wanted to be a pro as well. Or at least, pro enough he wont make a fool of himself in front of fifty people. Maybe more. Oh God Lance has a big family. What if they laugh at him? What would he--

A hand pulled Keith’s chin up. They stopped, Lance’s blue eyes washing over Keith’s nerves. Sending out a current to silence his worries over the future, blind faith in the partner he would have in life.

“Keep your eyes on me. Go with the music. You trust me, don’t you?”

Keith’s shoulders relaxed. “Always.”

Thus, they danced. Lance twirled him, spinning the other into the embrace of inner surprise. Dipped his body in quiet elation. Waltz him in the shining lights, his heart fluttering with each step of their feet. Lifting him up, giving him a chance to reach out to the stars. The room no longer existed, replaced by an empty field and bright stars smiling down on them; wrapping the couple in its arms and whisking them into an array of euphoria and adoration.

And for once, Keith didn’t step on his toes. He kept his eyes on Lance, his careful, analytical look disappearing into a wide grin. He might as well be dancing on air, because he felt weightless. They were the only two people that mattered in the world. Just two boys so deeply in love the gods sent down their blessings in a form of clear skies and easy, beautiful movement.

They were two wandering souls searching the earth for their missing piece. Now they are complete, the missing puzzle piece snugged comfortably in their chests. Keith never thought he would be this lucky. This happy. If he could freeze time, he would just to bask in the moment. But then again, there really is no reason for it. They are getting married and will have the rest of their lives to dance and love each other.

When the song ended, Lance pulled Keith close to him as before, their hands linked as Lance held Keith against him, chest to Keith’s back and arms reaching forward while Keith kept him close.

“Told you you could do it.” Lance whispered, tender and soft.

“I have a good teacher.”

With that, Keith angled his head to kiss Lance, the song long over but the dance continuing.

----------------

“Yes, I need to cancel. Yes I’m aware reservations take months to years. No I--look, the wedding is cancelled. No we weren’t unhappy, it just didn’t work out. Yup. Uhuh. You too, goodbye.” Lance says, finishing up with the phone call to the venue. As soon as he clicks the red button he sighs, resting his head on the kitchen table. It has been a grueling day in cancellations and setting up the viewing, Lance’s battered body screaming at him to rest. Allura and Shiro offered to take it over for him, but he shrugged them off, declaring it is his responsibility.

Now he is wondering if it really was a good idea to leave him alone.

He still has to cancel the catering, flower arrangements, honeymoon reservations, inform the bridesmaids and groomsmen of unfortunate circumstances, the damn limo, and return the wedding rings.

The last one he is not looking forward to. Just looking at Keith’s engagement ring around his neck hurts. Physically going into the shop and “enlightening” the store of current events is sure to leave him aching. And it wont be his bones.

He tiredly glances to his left. A framed photo lies flat on its front, the contents hidden away in a vain effort to preserve what is left of Lance’s heart. Yet he is compelled to reach out, grasping the smooth wood and flipping it up.

It is a picture of Lance and Keith at the dance studio, Lance angling the camera like a selfie to capture the moment. Keith was leaning against him, a small but adoring smile while Lance full on grinned, all teeth and painful cheek muscles. Lance didn’t care at the time. He was too overwhelmed with the fact he was to marry the boy he admired and sought for in a couple of months.

Both of their feet hurt after that day. But they didn’t care. It was fun. and filled with hope.

God, why did he think leaving in that snowstorm was a good idea? Why? Keith was even weary of it. He should have listened. Maybe then, maybe--

No, he can’t think about the accident right now. He needs to cancel shit. start working on the funeral. Get Keith’s body out of the morgue as soon as possible. He is cold and alone. Lance doesn’t want him left that way for too long.

He left the photo and puts on his jacket--well, put on one half. The other is trapped in a cast. He inserts his earbuds and heads out the door, the jewelry shop a couple blocks away. Lance can’t drive with one arm, so walking it is.

When he nears the shop he pauses his music, readying himself for the worst discussion of his life.

Then, he hears it.

It’s subtle; quiet, a whisper in the wind. The familiar high octave voice and elegant piano surpassing the hurrying sounds of traffic. It’s melody slowly wrapping around Lance’s still form at the end of the crosswalk, choosing to settle around his neck as his back hits brick.

It came from one of the shops, but Lance cannot pinpoint which one. All he knew is it is the same one Lance and Keith danced to in the photo, and it might as well have stabbed him. He shoves the earbuds farther in his ear and cranks the music. He ducks his head down and works to ignore the haunting voice, no doubt following him as he walks down the crowded streets. It isn’t until he reaches the jewelry store did he take a breath.

Jewelry stores are usually silent. Silent or playing mainstream music at low volume that you’d have to sneak into the back just to hear the lyrics perfectly. He should be safe.

Oh but how wrong he is. As soon as he takes out his earbuds and approaches one of the nicely dressed sellers with an over-the-top grin, the same song begins to play. At first, Lance doesn’t notice it right away. He is busy messing with his backpack, only able to use one arm. The woman helping him offered assistance, but he shrugs her off. He has his hand around the boxes and was about to hand the receipt over to the woman when his ears perked up, curiosity killing the cat.

His hand stops. The woman asks him a question, no doubt wondering when he purchased it and if the return is valid. Lance doesn’t hear her. He is engulfed by the song, its melody slithering up his spine and curling around his neck, the noose tightening with each word, with each hit or strum of the instruments.

Touching the clouds, never get found Shoot straight up, never come down Lets get lost chasing stars Out on the edge, losing our breath Hearts on fire in our chests Lets get lost chasing stars, lets get lost, lets get lost chasing stars, chasing stars (stars, stars)

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” The woman asks, concern etched in her eyes.

No. No he isn’t alright. He feels like he is choking. Being choked. Strangled by the song. Clawing at the imaginary hands reaching out from the rings, the fingers scratching deep cuts into his flesh. His lungs are on fire, his legs growing weak. The room seems to spin, his nails gripping onto the glass as a way to prevent him from falling. Falling into the abyss waiting for him. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s--

He is not okay.

“Sir?”

Lance’s knees buckle, the rings falling with him and clattering. He needs to breathe. How can he breathe?

Keith’s bright eyes flash through his memories, his laugh echoing in the middle of the song as Lance spun them around the studio.

“Slow down! I’m going to trip!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

It should have been him. The doctors even said, it should have been HIM. He was the driver. He was the one who insisted on leaving. He was the one who’s side was the most damaged.

He should have protected Keith, not the other way around.

It should have been him.

Lance covered his mouth with his uninjured hand, the tears he was holding back overtaking his shut down. His breath came out labored, and without so much as a care in the world over the worried employee and growing crowd, he sobbed.

#shania writes #klance #klangst #keith kogane #lance mcclain #VLD #voltron #lost future au #the angst train is long i tell you #long and coming to every city

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perlocutionary · 6 years

Text

Notorious, pt. 13 - Stuart Twombly

Description: You may have finally met your equal, but, bad decisions lead to bad endings. And that’s just what Y/N is setting herself up for.

Relationship: Fuckboy!Stuart Twombly x Reader

Word count: 2863

Title: Game plans

Part 1 - ... - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

Today was the day I left it all behind.

Today was the day, after six long days, that I had stepped foot out of my bedroom, fully dressed, and washed. Today was the day an end came to a story that should’ve just started.

I’m met with applause as I descent the stairs, and I almost growl audibly at my obnoxious friend. Six days without any social interaction didn’t mean that I was craving any just about now.

“I’m thrilled to see you up and about – it beats the alcohol and cigarette stench wafting from your bedroom any day.” Sarina laughs, clapping excitedly when I take the last steps down the stairs. My stoic features turn into one of annoyance, glaring at my friend as I make my way into the kitchen for a cold drink before I leave.

My comment is dismissive, but I know she won’t leave it at that.

“I don’t see any way I could respond to that without punching you on the nose right now.”

My thoughts are confirmed when I hear her footsteps loudly against the tiles, increasing in volume as she follows me into the kitchen. Her tone is still upbeat, the smile on her face evident in her voice.

“That it’s best that I change the subject as fast as possible.”

I don’t speak. I’m clutching the gift to my chest as I rummage through the fridge, grinning to myself when I spot the last bottle of beer in the far back. I drop the plastic bag on the countertop, uncapping the bottle and taking a big swig.

When I turn, Sarina is way too close for comfort. Her ludicrous grin reminds me of the blank stare Dory used to give Marlin 24/7 in Finding Nemo. And in this story, I felt just like Marlin.

I push her back the slightest bit, my hand resting on her shoulder, before I can properly pass her. She keeps bouncing behind me, and I know she’s dying to say something. “What?”

“So, what’s the game plan?”

I down the rest of my bottle, throwing it in the trash before I cock an eyebrow, over my shoulder, at my friend. “Why would I have a game plan?”

I’m getting bothered by her constant fluttering around me. Six days ago, I had locked myself up in my bedroom, and for those six days, Sarina had let me be. But it was clear that she had been missing her friend, and that she was perhaps a bit too enthralled to see me among the living again.

I nod my head once, ushering her to get on with the conversation. The sun was already setting and I wanted to stop by Stuart’s before heading off to the party at the abandoned warehouse – yeah I know, an utter cliché. But those parties were usually the most exceptional.

“You’re up and about. You must have a game plan by now.”

A breath resembling a sigh slips my lips, and I squeeze my eyes closed as I pinch the bridge of my nose with my pointer finger and thumb. I had given up around day four. There was nothing left to fight for.

I felt defeated; I had lost this battle before it even started. I was so consumed with attempting to not fall in love with Stuart, attempting my best to push any feelings down and proving to myself that it was working, I had hurt not only myself, but more importantly, him, in the process.

I had convinced myself Stuart was just my best friend – and that he would never be interested in anything that even resembled a relationship – we were the same after all. But this equality that brought us together in the first place, that made me kiss him and go home with him the first time, was also the reason I should’ve thought more instead of feeling.

If the chance arose that I were able to fall for Stuart Twombly’s charms, in what right mind was I to determine that he could never develop feelings? What gave me the right to assume that he, just as I once was, felt indifferent towards the affection and fondness with a woman. In hindsight, I should’ve just talked to him.

I don’t know why I decided against it – because after all, right now, I was convinced that Stuart would never drop me as his friend. The sex and nightly hook-ups might end, but to salvage our friendship, I would’ve done anything. But here I am, with my back against the wall and a gun held at my face at gun point – and I was out of options. Because of one, stupid decision.

“My damn game plan?” I snarl, throwing my arms up as I feel the alcohol of the lone beer course through my system on an empty stomach. I can’t remember the last time I had a proper meal.

“I don’t have any. I give up.”

When Sarina lets a gasp slip out so loud it feels I’m in an overdramatized soap series, I can’t suppress the eye roll that immediately follows.

“What? Why?”

As soon as my anger arose, is dissipates. Instead, grief, regret and every other emotion in said spectrum arises in a momentum. My heart feels heavy in my chest and the lump in my throat that never left during the past week grows with each passing second.

“Sometimes, people aren’t for you.” I start, avoiding Sarina’s gaze and starting to stuff every necessity into my pockets for the night.

“Sometimes, mistakes are made, so severe, that you can’t go back from.”

A sigh escapes me, and I feel tears well up in the corners of my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose yet again, taking a moment to tone down the tsunami of emotions that’s trying to surface.

I hear her approach me, but I make no move to step away. Her hand lands on my shoulder, slowly skimming along them before it comes to a rest between my shoulder blades.

“Y/N…”

I swallow harshly, blinking any upcoming tears away as I stare out the window. A small chuckle slips me, a waft of air passed through my lips as I shake my head.

“It’s something to learn from, I guess.”

Sarina doesn’t say anything – because I know there’s nothing left to say.

“In all honesty, there is probably a way that I might get Stuart to talk to me – and who knows? Perhaps, years from now, we’ll run into each other and he’ll give me another chance.”

I had made my decision. I wasn’t one to run after a man, and Stuart’s wasn’t one to tolerate me trying to do so. If there ever is a tiny chance that he’ll forgive me, even after all that time, I’ll be glad to grasp the opportunity with both hands. Some things might be worth fighting for, all the while the battle is impossible to win.

“Are you really prepared to wait, perhaps for eternity, for Stuart to forgive you?”

In response, I merely shrug my shoulders as I step away from my friend’s comforting gesture and walk over to Stuart’s birthday gift. The bag flings through the air as I grasp it with too much force, turning on my heel to address my friend one last time before my departure.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s best for the future that I try and move on from whatever it was.”

I clutch the door frame with all my might, taking another deep breath to calm myself.

“But, as for now,” I breathe, averting my gaze to land on the bag crisping in my fingers, “I’ll do exactly as he wants me to.”

Sarina is quick to reply. “And that is?”

Another sigh from me. Another gaze averted, and another twitch of my fingers as realization finally begins to dawn on me.

“Giving him the time and space that he needs.”

I witness Sarina’s eyes show all the remorse and sympathy that I know is present in her frail frame. I had always been stubborn, but she knew there was no arguing on my decision this time. It wasn’t ‘I want to do this so…’ or ‘I think it’s a good idea to…’ which she can talk me out of. She has to keep Stuart’s feelings in mind this time – and therefore she chooses to remain silent.

“Please, don’t wait up. I’m – I’m dropping this off at Stuart’s,” I lift the plastic bag mere centimeters and wriggle my wrist, hearing the plastic crinkle underneath my fingertips, “And then. I don’t know. Probably the warehouse party. For the last time, drown my overdriven-mind. I – I’m not entirely ready to let it go yet.”

Sarina takes a step toward me, but she stops herself. Her fingers twitch against one another, swallowing repeatedly as her shoulders tense. “Be careful, please.”

A scoff leaves my lips, followed by an overdramatic eye roll.

“When am I not?”

Now it’s Sarina’s time to snort at my response. Not only had this Stuart-mess fucked with my head and mental wellbeing, I saw cracks appearing in my closest friendship thus far. And after I regained myself, I had to fix this, as soon as possible.

“How about ever since this, this thing between you and Stuart happened?”

I don’t speak – and it fuels Sarina even more. Not to mention also edging me on.

“You’re coming home when everyone leaves for class, you don’t give a shit about what’s happening around you anymore, you constantly look as if you’re a bum just crawling from beneath a bridge somewhere – Do you even remember half of the time you were drunk last week?”

Another humorless chuckle. Perhaps I didn’t know when I had been awake or not within the last week – nor did I know how many alcohol I had consumed or when I was drunk or not. But it helped.

“No. But isn’t that the sole purpose of drowning your problems in alcohol?”

Sarina crosses her arms over her chest. Defensiveness had always been her stance whenever we found ourselves in the middle of an argument. Her harsh glare dissipates, and a look of concern, where her lips turn down into a frown.

“This isn’t you. I know you’re hurting, Y/N. Because I am too just seeing you like this. But what do you want me to do? You’re starting to scare me.”

Her voice raises as she nears the end of her sentence, and I feel my own blood boil.

“Do you know what I want you to do? Just fucking be there for me. If this is my choice to do to get over Stuart Twombly, then you should respect that, at least.”

Action – Reaction. As I raise my voice, so does Sarina. But I’m not here to stay to witness or partake in a screaming match.

“But not by letting you drink yourself into a coma!”

Her voice is accusing, but I don’t speak. Instead, I merely smile at her, cocking my head to the side before I give her a dismissive nod.

“I – I’ll see you tomorrow, probably. Later.”

Even though I was planning on getting completely wasted tonight, my responsibility didn’t waver. The walk to Stuart’s frat was tedious, yes. But it granted me with some time to think. I knew he wouldn’t be home.

His frat mates had informed me that he went to every single one of his classes, except for the class on Monday morning and Thursday afternoon. The two classes we had together.

That doesn’t stop me from taking a full five minutes standing in front of the front door before I ring the doorbell. And, as soon as I hear it chime throughout the building, I want nothing more than to bail and disappear.

The door clicks, and I sigh in gratitude when Lyle opens the door, and I am yet one step away from avoiding Stuart all together. I briefly smile up at the male, nodding my head as I shuffle from side to side. “Hey, Lyle.”

“Oh, hey Y/N. Stuart isn’t here at the moment.” He shrugs his shoulders, but opens the door nonetheless, inviting me into their home.

“Ah – uh, that doesn’t matter.” I prefer it that way. I motion with my bag up the stairs, smiling once again as I speak. “I’m just here to drop something off real quick.”

He nods and closes the door behind me as I start my hike up the stairs, to Stuart’s bedroom. I had been here so much during the short span of a year, but here I was, perhaps walking in here for the last time. I couldn’t help but be a bit nostalgic about the whole ordeal, even if it were so heavily loaded with grief.

Lyle yells after me, and stops me dead in my tracks.

“Well he could be home any moment, you can always wait for him if you want.”

Everyone I had spoken to seemed to at least have a hunch about the difficulties Stuart and I were currently experiencing – but Lyle’s behavior made me question said assumptions completely. Did he not know?

Another smile over my shoulders as I start walking again, waving his offer off the table.

“That’s fine, but thanks.”

As soon as Stuart’s familiar cologne wafts into my nostrils, tears start welling up and I’m pressing my back to the closed door of his bedroom, without a chance to move. It feels as if my body won’t let me.

I don’t have much time left though, and after a few prolonged seconds, I force myself to stroll over to his unmade bed. Stuart’s room seems similar to mine. Where he usually was a neat freak, clothes were scattered everywhere. His bed was unmade, and bags of chips half eaten are littering the floor around his bed.

I force myself to not glance further around the room, not wanting to invade his privacy. Instead, I dig into my plastic bag and pull out the largest item – a DVD case of an upcoming game.

Once, while lying in bed after one of the most mind-blowing times we’ve been together, Stuart and I were talking. And of course, his love for video games was ever so apparent. He kept raving about this one game, that’s supposed to come out in September, and that’s he’s thrilled to get his hands on because he grew up with the character. Back then, it warmed my heart. And, after a few phone calls, a lot of begging and even bribing a few people along the way, it arrived in the mail last week, three months in advance.

I know Stuart wouldn’t believe his eyes when he saw my birthday present for him, but, due to unforeseen circumstances – you can read that as me being a total asshat and fucking up the one good thing in my life – I don’t think I’d spend his birthday with him.

My fingers fumble with the casing and it clicks open, my eyes immediately landing on a picture of us he had taken that same day that he told me he wanted this game more than anything in his life. His torso was unclothed and uncovered, glasses discarded on his night stand as his whiskey-colored eyes sparkled up into the camera. My frame was curled against his, and I can still remember his aftershave piercing my nostrils as I pressed my kiss-swollen lips against his clean-cut jaw.

It was, hands down, probably one of the best nights of my life. And the same night I, deep down, knew how hard I was falling for Stuart Twombly.

A sigh escapes me, and I feel my throat contract as my eyes well up, causing me to flip the case closed rapidly and dropping it on the bed. My hands dig through the bag again and I humorlessly chuckle to myself when I pull the bow out, placing it on top of the game case. I was shit at wrapping – and Stuart was very much aware of that.

One of his friends had a birthday coming up, and he bought this intricate gift with such a weird-ass shape he wanted me to wrap it for him. I couldn’t even begin to describe the monstrosity I created – and Stuart vowed to never let me wrap anything ever again.

The only thing that’s left in my stupid, recycled plastic bag in a slip of paper. This piece of paper contains my scribbles, tucked away neatly in a shimmering envelope.

This stupid piece of paper held everything dear to me – my apologies, my reasoning and most of all, my confession. I didn’t know if Stuart would ever read it, but within my heart, I hoped one day he would have the courage to.

I fumble with the envelope, turning it around with my fingers absentmindedly as I think of every neatly scribbled letter on there. I remember word for word, and I am certain I always will. I will never forget the exact last words written on it, never been spoken out loud by me, but holding such strong meaning.

I love you.

A/N: Thank you for reading Notorious! I’ve enjoyed writing it so much. xox

Forever tag: @flirtstiles @mischiefandi @ssweet-empowerment @fuckwhateverfuck @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @itsbilescallmebiles @7e6205 @daddyxraeken @lovelynerdytraveler @redstringlovers @suggsmate @dylxnob @bojabee @beingafangirlistheonlylifestyle @voidkitsune24

Stuart tag: @sataninsatin @cece-lives-here @dancingalone21 @europha @letmebeyoursforever @voidwriter @anneistrash @thesecretlifeofmeinmyhead @acambridge

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