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sparrowonn · 3 years ago

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A Picture Worth a Thousand Words - Chapter 5 – Restless Nights

FANDOM: ARCANE (LEAGUE OF LEGENDS)

Characters : Vi, Caitlyn, Enforcer, Soren Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Angst, Drama, Conflict, SPOILERS TO ARCANE S1, thirst trap, Desires Word Count: 3045

THIS IS PART 3

Note: The Story takes place directly after Season Finale of Arcane. READ: [PART 1] [PART 2]

Follow me to see the updates. BONUS Scenes COMING THIS WEEKEND haha

Enjoy!

——

PART 3: A Picture Worth a Thousand Words

Chapter 5 – Restless Nights

INT – KIRAMMAN HOUSE – EARLY MORNING

A couple days had past and there were still no signs of Cassandra Kiramman (Caitlyn’s mothers) body under the wreckage of the council building. No one wanted to call it quits yet and the rescue team was still searching for survivors. Was it possible she could had survived and escaped? Nothing was known. It was early morning and Caitlyn couldn’t sleep, feeling miserable, she was in a state of uncertainty and at a loss of what she could do as her mother had her contract terminated as an Enforcer prior to her going to Stillwater Prison to run her own investigation into Jayce’s stolen Hextech Gemstone. Now - she was unable to get anywhere near the investigation into the destruction of the Council building and her colleagues would not risk their own jobs to divulge information as they knew she was too personally involved in the case.

As she laid on her bed she was already in a causal outfit ready to start her day…or do something….anything…to get her mind off the currently situation….she stared off at the map on the floor feeling frustrated…there was sadness in her eyes…her heart ached….Vi had left her….and her mother was missing. She was starting to get agitated…and her mind just kept bombarding her with thoughts. Did her colleagues not think she would be an asset…..she needed to find her mother- alive and now she could do nothing other then wait and waiting was a terrible game especially when it involved death. Becoming impatient she got off her bed and decided to go for a walk outdoors as sunrise had already occurred and maybe a walk would clear her mind. Exiting the Kiramman household gates she started to walk through the town, wandering aimlessly needing something to keep her mind occupied. The sunlight in the morning was beautiful reflecting off the building and houses of Piltover. It was quiet and not many people were up or outside yet. At least this was something soothing although she knew the reality of it all was just a façade as in other areas of the city Enforcers were rushing around still securing the city.

Caitlyn took a slow pace walk down a cobblestoned back road and couldn’t shake the fact that this was all Jinx’s fault…all this chaos in the city occurred because Vi’s sister shot the rocket at the Council building. I can’t let her get away with what she has done…..but Vi….she thought to herself shaking her head feeling conflicted with stirring emotions inside of her as she continued to walk down the pathway noticing someone in the distant fighting with an Enforcer. “Get the fuck off me” the girl yells while shoving the Enforcer away- drunkenly. “What the fuck”. The girl was in a red jacket with a black hood, white boxing wraps around her fists and had pink hair. She was stumbling around looking dishevelled and lost and then seconds later she fell face forward onto the stone pathway. The Enforcer laughed not even touching her. “Pathetic trencher”. Vi laid there for a moment enjoying the cold hard ground- it made her feel something….pain which was just what she was about to put the Enforcer through. As she stood back up, she threw a punch at his face missing while stumbling backwards and he laughed at her drunken ass until she booted him between the legs following up with a quick right hook to the head. “fuccck yeah!” The Enforcer could feel the hard impact of a bare fist hit him across the face while his body started to feel loose and darkness crossed his eyes before his body hit the ground.

Turning away Vi felt a weird sensation overcome her and started to stumble unevenly back around the pathway.

From the distance Caitlyn could tell exactly who this was- it was Vi and she didn’t look well. Bruised and cut up from various fights and something seemed different about her-….something was off and now she was stumbling around drunkenly in Piltover becoming more noticeable by other citizens who were just starting their day. Caitlyn began running down the stone pathway concerned that Vi was going to get herself arrested. “….Vi…but…why….” she whispered under her breath picking up her speed – she knew that because she was out of her Enforcers uniform if another Enforcer was to notice the incident there would be problems.

Vi found a nice little house to lean against keeping her eyes towards the ground while trying to focus as she was still a little off balance, she was hoping that her head would stop pounding from all the alcohol she had consumed prior to arriving in Piltover. Ekko tried to stop her from drinking so much but it was the only way she could ease the pain of all the guilt she was feeling and she wasn’t ready to face – “Vi….” The words were soft with an accent and sounded concerned, Vi’s chest tightened fuck she thought. It was Caitlyn….she managed to find her… lifting up her head slowly she was afraid to face Caitlyn but when their eyes met - both were at a loss of words of what to say as they started to feel overwhelmed by emotion and could tell each other was going through pain. They both wanted to reach out to each other but it hurt so much. They stood there in silence, eyes fixed on one another and each breath they took was synchronized…deep, slow and warm, as they found comfort in each other without the use of words and you could hear a pin drop between the two. Nothing else mattered in this moment it was if the world had stop spinning for a brief second. A slight smile crossed Vi face as she steadied her hand placement on the side of a house and could feel something more then just comfort “one second Cupcake I just –“ Vi vomits into a small flowerbed next the house as Caitlyn watches feeling a little flustered as the tension breaks between them. Vi looks up with a goofy smile as Caitlyn shakes her head putting her arm around her to help steady her. “Seriously Vi……we need to get you off the street before more Enforcers arrive…you can’t just fight random people.” Vi starts mumbling words that aren’t coherent while leaning her some of her weight on Caitlyn as they continue to walk down the street. While walking Caitlyn notices a restaurant with its door wide open and no one around she considered that this would be a good place to get Vi hydrated and maybe get a coffee in her. Entering through the doorway Caitlyn notices that the restaurant is actually a trendy Piltover pub and it has some cold colors with black and gold accents through out the venue, a pool table in the back, a couple of roundtables at the front for guests a dart board straight off the main bar. The bottom of the tables and the bar were made of gears and engine parts, the lighting seemed to be dimmed. On the bar was a plate of half eaten toast and a half a glass of something that looked alcoholic. No one was in the pub – it looked dead.

Upon entering Vi noticed the food on the counter top and did not hesitate…releasing herself from Caitlyn’s grasp and running over to it as she grabbed the plate and devouring the toast just as she then clutched the drink and tossed it back. In that brief moment Caitlyn attempted to grab Vi’s arm to stop her but is to late…. “Vi!” the drink was empty. She slammed the glass back on the bar and smiled whatever it was- tasted good and she wanted another “Ha! BAR KEEP WHERE ARE YOU!” she yelled demanding another drink.

Caitlyn sat down on a stool next to Vi rolling her eyes and just as she was about to speak up two blue eyes cut through the darkness of the shadows like a horror movie and a woman walked forward with long black hair, similar height to Vi, an athletic/slim build wearing a pair of pants, high length boots, v cut neckline shirt with left arm covered in a sleeve and the right sleeveless, golden accents were designed throughout her clothing and a couple of belts around her waist- one which she hung a towel off of. She walked with confidence and you could tell owned the bar and she didn’t seem like she would take shit from anyone. She had noticed right away that Vi had attacked her breakfast and her drink. “We are closed.” She replied sternly. Caitlyn felt bad about the breakfast situation “sorry about that...I’ll pay for that if need be. We saw the door open and thought you were open? My friend here is in need of water and perhaps a cup of coffee.” “FOOD” Vi yelled back at the bar keep as her stomach growled. “……I’m not a restaurant-and I’m waiting for a delivery which is why the door was left open.” The bar keep looked towards Vi. “Who the fuck do you think you are.” Vi was caught off guard by the bar keeps reaction but welcomed another challenge as she leaned over the bar. “You want to find out who I am!?” she yelled back ready to fight the woman as Caitlyn attempted to hold her back. Vi scowls “I was looking for The Rusty Nail but I can take a detour!”. Vi tightens her fist looking for a fight. The woman and Vi stand face to face not afraid of each other. The bar keep then points to the front door sign that reads “THE RUSTY NAIL – PILTOVER’S FINEST PUB”. Caitlyn is stunned as neither of them is backing down and tries to diffuse the situation. “This is The Rusty Nail? I’ve heard about it before... It’s pretty popular.” Vi and the bar keep continue to stare at one another looking like someone will be murdered over breakfast. “So- you’re Vi?” the bar keep grins both of them are 2 inches away from each others face. “Yup.” Cocky reply. The bar keep smiles “sit the fuck down and read the sign above my head.” Vi looks up – No fighting in the bar & Good Times only. Vi sits back on her stool as the bar keep turns away and puts a pot of coffee on. Caitlyn released her grip on Vi’s jacket and is slightly confused did Vi come to Piltover just to come to this bar and not to see her? why? She thought to herself before the words just slipped out of her mouth “Vi-you were looking for this bar?” The bar keep interrupts the conversation as she turns around “what are you having?” asking Caitlyn and pulling out waters on the table in front of them. Caitlyn is a little bit thrown off by how quick the woman is working “I’ll have a tea please…..” The bar keep laughs “You can have a coffee or a drink – no other choices” Caitlyn smiles trying to ease the mood “coffee please.” The bar keep nods grabbing a couple of cups under the bar and throws down a couple of coasters that were originally gear parts from a mechanical device. She starts to pour the coffee into the cups. “So, you’re Vander’s kid?” Vi’s eyes open wide extremely confused. How did this woman know….. the bar keep continued “I knew him well. I’m sorry for your loss.” Caitlyn noticed Vi’s body language starting to change a little. Who was this Vander? And why is Vi acting uneasy now… Caitlyn wondered. Vi stared at her coffee – black just how she wanted it. “what- do you mean you knew him well…..” her eye twitched as she replied.

The bar keep places a little jug of milk in front of Caitlyn knowing that she’ll probably request it anyways. “All the taverns know each other. We share some of the same suppliers but some of us knew each other better then others.” She smirked as Vi started to choke on her coffee. What did that even mean. Did this woman know Vander intimately?! Or was she just fucking with her? Vi couldn’t figure it out. Caitlyn quietly sipped her coffee trying to figure out if this Vander was a relative of Vi’s - she was quite amused viewing Vi blush of embarrassment while also watching Vi’s soul starting to crawl deeper into her to hide. The barkeep continued “So - I heard you ripped off my sisters arm in Zaun.” Quickly Vi snapped back into her body/reality spitting out her coffee. “PFFFT- SE-SEVIKA IS YOUR SISTER?! YOU ARE FROM ZAUN!” Vi shouts back at the bar keep. Caitlyn coming to the realization that this explains a lot about how these two confronted each other earlier. “Half sister. We have different fathers. It’s a shame you didn’t kill her but probably for the best as she is fighting hard for Zaun and is trying to make money to keep her father alive.” Vi grins repositioning herself back on the bar stool still angry from Sevika’s betrayal and she had never considered Sevika to have family. She was a cold-hearted betraying bitch.

Changing the conversation, The bar keep pulls out a medium sized box covered in a cloth with a bit of blood on it. Placing it in front of Vi “Your package arrived this morning. Do you know how hard it is to get something like this off the black market?” As Vi reached for the package a knife is stabbed between her fingers stopping her hand from moving closer “Not so fast. Payment is due.”

Caitlyn puts her cup down on the coaster concerned “what is happening here? Are you running an illegal operation?” Caitlyn looks stern towards the criminal behind the bar “I can have you arrested.” The barkeep smiles “You could-try but how do you think someone from Zaun ended up here. Enforcers come to this bar just as much as any other individual looking for information.” Caitlyn looks to Vi “You shouldn’t deal with these people Vi-whatever is in that package isn’t worth it.” Vi grins moving her hand away from the knife considering Caitlyn’s words but something else grabs her attention on the word information. “What do you know about Jinx?”. Caitlyn is now also curious and demands answers as well “What do you also know about the rocket that hit the council building?!” The barkeep keeps her cool while pulling the her knife out of the table and folds it back up. “Nothing. I’m staying out of that mess. Now regarding my payment.” She pulls out another box in a dark blue cloth. “This needs to be delivered to the west end of town where the factory district is. The building is 9384 Block-D.” Caitlyn recognizes the address right away “Block-D!? That district is where my families factories are……..they can’t be involved in illegal activities….” Vi puts a hand on Caitlyn’s back, her stomach is starting to feel a little better “It’s ok. We can look into it.” Vi looks to the barkeep “What’s in the package?”. The barkeep moves the empty cups away from Vi and Caitlyn and starts to clean up. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t open it. Just deliver it and if you know the factory area well – then you’re already ahead of the game. There is a window on the second level that will be open tonight. When you get inside, you’ll follow a light down a hallway and meet the client. Now get out of my bar so I can clean off the mess that a bunch of kids left behind on a table.” The bar keep pushes Vi and Caitlyn out of the bar. “When you finish the job the package you requested will be in the front mailbox, the key will be under the 3rd potted plant in the back.”

Vi and Caitlyn hear the door shut behind them and a locking system grind in place.

“Vi….who was that?” Caitlyn asks out of concern realizing that there is more to Piltover and its political corruption then what she knew 30 minutes earlier. Vi grinned holding the blue package up to the sky wondering what was inside it as she started to walk with Caitlyn.

“Soren, I suppose. I once overheard a conversation late at night when Vander and Benzo were chatting about a woman named Soren. During the uprising on the bridge……when my parents died, Soren was taken by the Enforcers and thrown in Stillwater.” Vi grinned “her name was carved into the stone wall there next to the word reaper. She was wanted for various murders.” It was pretty standard in the Undercity to come across murders, criminals and drug dealers so it was nothing new to Vi but Caitlyn was still processing the words Vi just told her “But how is it possible she is here. In Piltover now.” Caitlyn asks while stopping in her tracks. Turning to face Caitlyn, Vi replies bluntly stating a fact “well seems like Piltover isn’t so clean after all.” Caitlyn was shocked how was this even possible… was the system broken or did this Soren have connections that no one else had access to. “I would stay away from her Cupcake. There is a reason why she is there.” Vi turned around shaking the package trying to figure out what was in it. “Vi- is it worth it? To do this…..” Caitlyn asked as they continued to walk together. “Cupcake this is my job. I can handle it on my own.” Vi responded. Caitlyn was having concerns about Vi going off into the factory district doing this job…she needed to know what kind of illegal activities were going on in her family’s factories late at night. “No, Vi I’m coming with you. I need to investigate this.” Vi smiles “that’s the spirit- our first job together. Just make sure you don’t get arrested by an Enforcer.” She winked at Caitlyn while teasing her. Caitlyn rolled her eyes unimpressed by the joke “come on now…and stop calling me Cupcake….also who is this Vander?”

- END

BONUS PIC: The back table Soren had to clean off.......

------------------ Post notes:

Soren pronounced (Sorr-en)

There are TWO BONUS SCENES releasing this weekend. One with Vi/Caitlyn and the other is Sevika and Soren. You can either follow me or follow the Arcane Sevika or Arcane FanFic tag to read it. You’ll learn a lot about the character I created. I needed a character to push the story forward for Vi and Caitlyn – the payoff…..is golden at the end of the story but building it takes time…..and as a fan of Sevika – I wanted her back story fleshed out. Also, Vander was totally getting action back in the day. I thought it would be hilarious if it was Sevika’s younger sister. I wanted Vi to have someone other then Caitlyn in Piltover but also have an awkward relationship with them. Although I have a feeling Vi would be just running a massive bar tab…

It took me a LONG TIME to figure out a Pub Name that would reflect Zaun but could be trendy in Piltover - The Rusty Nail. It took me longer to find a name that sounded cool for Sevika’s sister that wasn’t a name used in LoL (they use so many names)….like SERIOUSLY.

Also, if you watch TV shows- you want to establish a place characters can keep going back to. I wasn’t going to write a coffee shop, restaurant, new building/etc. I wanted a place where some Enforcers, Criminals, Regular People go – a trendy pub that behind the scenes doubled as an illegally operation network for information. Where would Vi, Caitlyn and sometimes Jinx go? LOL.

And yes - the table that was graffitied on was by Jinx & Friends. Which means she made an appearance at the bar. This table was not noticed by Caitlyn or Vi as it was in a back corner of the bar. Lastly yes....I thought it would be fun to add to Piltover's Finest...Pub LOL i don't need to explain! If you made it this far fantastic ~ if not oh well! LOL

pic credits: Arcane Netflix: Riot Games Bar: 6sense.ro

#arcane vi #arcane caitlyn #vi x caitlyn #arcane fanfic #piltover's finest #arcane sevika #arcane #arcane spoilers #sparrowonn fanfic #family #arcane vander #arcane jinx #therustynailpub

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parkerlyn · 4 years ago

Note

how would the ROs react if MC showed up at their bedroom door in the middle of the night hugging a pillow and looking for comfort after a nasty nightmare? bonus if MC's normally tough and doesn't scare easily ❤️ please bless us with some fluff 💕

Nightmares you say? 👀

(tw for brief blood and death because this got away from me and turned into drabbles. Written in the who-will-admit-to-the-feelings-first stage, and as if everyone’s uhhh staying at the same inn? Sleepover at The Lucky Albatross for [insert reason here]? haha. And thank you both for the ask! ❤️This really helped me kickstart my writing again after hitting a bit of a block 💖💖)

Sweat clings to your forehead as your eyes snap open, clammy cold jittering from the base of your skull and slamming down between your shoulder blades. Pressing your eyes closed again, you narrow your consciousness to your breaths, mind solely focused on the rising of your chest.

In. Out.

Blood gurgling from swollen lips, a hand clutching at dirt with a shiver. They look to you, pleading, wanting, no strength left to form the words you know would be their last.

In.

You stare helplessly as they collapse into the red already soaking into the ground, finally succumbing to the wound that’s pierced through their ribs.

You watch their body deflate in an exhale before stillness takes over.

Out.

Back in your bed, your fingers grip at the sheets around you in frustration and you sit up with a scoff.

No paradise and verdant fields tonight it seems, only nightmares. And in a cruel twist of fate of course, nightmares about someone who’s taken up more of your thoughts than you’re comfortable admitting.

You know you’re all safe. Your magic is strong enough to reach out and feel the comforting (comforting?) presence of all the people you expect in the rooms around you.

But you’re already up, securing the glamor, watching your mortalis form take shape.

You need to know for sure. Need to know that this isn’t some cruel illusion. Need to know their heart still beats, can beat, will beat in time with yours.

You find yourself...

---

The Healer:

...at the Healer’s door, hand hovering over the wood before you let your knuckles fall against it with a faint knock. There’s no response at first, and you curse under your breath for this moment of weakness, before you hear shuffling on the other side.

It goes quiet, and despite your self-chastising, you find your hand has already knocked again. Another magic reaches out cautiously before you can feel their guard drop, the door opening soon after.

Guilt flickers in your thoughts when you see them, golden eyes darkened with sleep above the disheveled open neckline of their nightshirt, warmth radiating from their exposed skin. They blink a few times before they fully come to terms with the fact that it’s you standing in front of them, the realization apparent when their eyes widen with clarity.

“I had a nightmare,” you explain, the words spilling out into the silence. “You...you died.”

The statement takes a few more seconds than usual for them to process, before their eyes soften and they step to the side to invite you into their room. The smell of cedarwood grazes against you as you pass, and you have to resist the urge to turn towards the source along their bare neck.

Once the Healer pinches fire alight on a couple candles, they ease you over to a chair near their bed.

“Ah- wherever you want to sit.” They murmur, voice laced with sleep. “I know the inn’s chairs aren’t exactly built for comfort.” They scratch at the back of their head and stay standing.

Watching their reaction for a moment, you decide to sit at the foot of the bed, where the covers are only mildly disturbed. The mattress sinks under your weight as you leave your legs hanging over the side, the balls of your feet pressed into the floor. Soon after making sure you seem settled enough, the Healer makes to sit in the chair instead.

But your body reacts first, reaching out without thinking to grab at their wrist, to stop them from moving farther away. To be able to feel them, tangible and real.

They swing their face to you when your hands connect, and you know they’ve felt the shiver run through your fingers. Whether from the lingering sight of their blood staining the ground, or from the static in the touch between you, you’re not sure.

Judging from the worry lining their brow, you’d guess they’re reading the former.

Within the space of a few seconds, their arms are around you with a hand firmly planted at the back of your neck, enveloping you in an embrace.

“I’m here,” says the voice in your ear, the vibration in their chest grounding you through their body.

It’s only then that you can feel what they’ve seen, your body shaking and swaying in the terror that crept into your limbs.

Fabric twists between your knuckles as you clutch at their back and bury your face into the crook of their neck while they squeeze tighter. The warm earthy scents from before fill your senses completely.

“I’m here.”

---

The Magesmith:

...at the Magesmith’s door, but you can’t quite bring yourself to knock. There’s a faint light trickling out from the loose parts of the door’s frame, and you can tell that they’re still awake. That should be enough, you can feel their magic through the door, clearly alive, clearly still there. It should be enough.

But it’s not.

You register the sound of the knock before you realize that you’re responsible for the echo in the hall, followed by the realization that it’s too late to retreat as the Magesmith opens the door.

With their headband discarded and the glowing light of the hearth’s fire, their dark auburn hair falls against their face in a gentle, haloed wave.

“You-” they start with a cocked eyebrow, before seeing the sheen of sweat across your forehead. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

You stare at them for another moment, reassuring your senses that it is in fact them. No illusion, just them in all their slightly sour-faced glory.

“Nightmare,” you respond softly, the Magesmith leaning in just a hair to hear you.

“Nightmare?”

The question comes across more tenderly than you would have expected from them, a sudden shift from the previous questions. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone in a long while, and the sudden awareness of this leads your gaze over their barely parted lips and across their sleeveless arms, the various smithing burns and scars writing shimmering stories over their skin.

“I, uh...” You sigh. “Nevermind, it’s fine,” you finally spit out, turning towards your room again.

“No, wait, please-” The Magesmith reaches for you but pulls their hand back at the last second. They smother the desperation in their voice and instead try to read your features for an answer to the questions they don’t want to admit they’re thinking.

Why me? Why did you come to me?

You watch them swallow the thoughts, lips pressed together as they look away.

“You...” Deep brown eyes snap back to your face at the sound of your voice, waiting for you to form the words. “You died. I watched you die and I wanted...I don’t know what I wanted. To see if you were alright?” You cringe at the words as they flow out and turn from the Magesmith’s scrutiny again.

Though you’re looking at the floor, you see them bring their hand to scratch idly above their prosthetic arm.

“Did I at least put up a fight?”

Jerking your head up in disbelief, you level them with a stare only to be met with genuine interest, and the faintest smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. In the odd situation, you can’t help but let out a short, crisp laugh.

“You can come in, if you want,” they whisper tentatively, as you feel the unease evaporating off of you. “Waiting for the fire to die down anyway.”

It takes you a moment to respond, the silhouette of flames dancing between you and them.

“I’d like that.”

---

The Sage:

...at the Sage’s door, clenching and unclenching your fists as you still try to shake off the residual images ingrained into your vision. Eventually you steel your nerves to knock, the sound as loud as thunder along the still hallway.

You hear a quiet hum on the other side of the door, followed by a soft “Just a minute,” and what you can assume is the Sage stumbling from the comfort of their bed to greet you.

This was stupid, that’s plenty of confirmation, you shouldn’t- but they’re already at the door, easing it open while gently rubbing a knuckle into the corner of their eye.

Worry shapes their face almost instantly when they register that it’s you, and they immediately survey the hall for a sign of any dangers. Content that there isn’t anything threatening your safety, they turn their entire focus back.

“Are you alright?” Their hand twitches as if it wants to reach out to you but they restrain themself. Looking into their eyes, the flecks of topaz in hazel are brilliant even in the dim night lighting, and you force yourself to rein in your staring before you fall in further.

“Just...just a nightmare,” you eventually respond, matching their hushed tones. You can feel them exploring your features, unsure of what to do.

They decide though, as you feel fingertips barely float above your shoulder, before their hand commits to giving you a light squeeze.

“Please come in?” they ask, easily reading what you’re hoping for. You nod and follow them inside.

With ease, they charge the crystal lantern into a faint golden glow, and let the fire curl off their fingers as the spell politely moves around you to swirl into the hearth. A healthy fire builds in the small fireplace and they take a seat down at the bench in front of it, offering the space next to them. Gladly, you take it, pressing your palms into the edge of the wood while watching the flames grow.

They’re happy enough sitting in silence, turning from the fire to you and then back. But it drags on longer than intended and you give a small sigh.

“It was you. I watched you die, and I couldn’t do anything.”

You hear the sharp intake of breath from beside you, and know that their eyes are focused on you now. You wring your hands together, still trying to shake off the icy grip of the hellscape you awoke from.

Carefully, gingerly, their hands come into view as they surround yours with theirs, the cold of your fingers sending small goosebumps racing up their arm. But they hold fast, letting the warmth of a small muted spell ease into your skin. Their palms glow as they run their hands over your wrists and your fingers, the heat reeling you fully into the present.

The motion continues, and you can feel the strain melting off as the heat inches up your arm. Sensing you relax, if only just slightly, they smile.

“Better?”

“Better.”

They keep a hold of your hands even when the spell ends.

---

Oisein:

...at Oisein’s door, and you barely rap your knuckles against the wood before it’s already open, lavender mortalis irises staring at you with concern. In the haze of your fervor to find them you missed that their magic was already reaching out to you, because of course it was, reading your nerves and your fear.

They give a tentative half smile. “I’d say you’re going to cause a scandal sneaking around like this, but...” They stop, deciding whether or not to gauge you again before you feel their pathos magic retreat. “You okay?”

“I had a nightmare,” you say, avoiding their gaze.

“What, really?” Some of the tension disappears from their face and they sigh with relief, a teasing smirk on their lips. “Well I can't complain if it sent you running to me for a late-night rendezvous-”

“I watched you die,” you interrupt, and their smirk shatters when they see you shudder. “I had to make sure-”

Their hand is already wrapped around your forearm, trying to move their face back into your sight. “Hey, no wait, I’m sorry- hey-” they start, and when you still won’t meet their eyes, they move their hands to gently cup your cheeks, guiding your face back up.

"No nightmare can get rid of me that easy, yeah?Sorry 'bout your luck, but you're still stuck with me," they whisper, a quiet chuckle following close behind.

Their face holds a smile, until you both realize you’ve drawn closer together. Their palms surge warmth through either side of your face, fingers lightly traced over the cool soft skin beneath your ears. There’s a flicker in their eyes down to your lips, and they try to nonchalantly draw their hands away from you, coughing in embarrassment and hiding behind the golden hair falling over their face.

Spreading their lithe fingers against their room door, they open it wider.

“Want to stay for a little? I’ll behave, really,” they offer without a single shred of their usual sarcasm.

You nod and walk in past them, and they tentatively place a hand on the small of your back as they close the door, walking you over to sit at the corner table.

As you lower into the chair, their hand ghosts up over your shoulder and down your arm, trying to maintain contact while they sit opposite to you. They let their fingers hold yours, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

With an exhale through their nose, they look from your hands up to your eyes with almost a tinge of defiance.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

You believe them.

#ro ask #ro asks #the healer #the magesmith #the sage #oisein #nightmare #nightmares #fluff #drabble #drabbles #I....may use some of this content in the game at some point 👀#blood tw #death tw

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mystic-shadows42 · 4 years ago

Text

The Wolf and Sheep

Pairing: Ubbe x reader (series)

Warnings: Language and Violence

You felt Ubbe’s hand brush your hair back. He was always so gentle and soft when it came to you. That’s one of the reasons why you loved him.

You opened your eyes to see him already looking at you. He smiled making your heart flutter.

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring you.”

You huffed out a laugh. Your appearance in the morning was nowhere near worth admiring. It was still sweet of him to say.

“How did I get so lucky with you?”

“The gods wanted us to be together. You’re stuck with me now.” He said as he flashed his smile at you.

You laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

“Are you still going hunting today?”

Ubbe brushed his fingers through your hair as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Heard rumors there’s some sort of animal going through towns destroying everything. A catch like that is worth something.”

“Is it? What if you get hurt? I can’t begin to comprehend that.”

“The only reason why I’d risk it is for you. For your safety. Then once we catch this beast, think of all the stories we can tell our children. It’ll be a tradition. We’ll be old sitting around the fire watching as our family grows their own thinking we made such a thing happen.”

“That’s a pretty picture.” you hummed along with him. You looked up from his chest and captured his lips with yours while he was caught off guard.

He reciprocated the kiss molding his lips onto yours.

“When you come back we’ll have to work on creating our family.”

He smiled as you gave him a knowing look. You traced your finger on his chest loving how it sent shivers down his body at your touch.

Ubbe brought your hand up to his lips as he kissed it.

“There’s nothing more I want than to have a family with the woman I love. I’d be proud to father your children. I always dreamt of having a family and settling down. Now that’s all going to finally happen. Thanks to you.”

“You weren’t hard to lock down.”

Ubbe chuckled at your words. It was no secret that he had gotten around before but as soon as he locked eyes with you for the very first time he knew he was done for. He was done with his previous lifestyle.

You had him wrapped around your finger and he knew it too.

You patted his chest and started to gather his belongings that’ll he’ll need for his hunt.

“Do you have everything you need?”

Ubbe had a tendency to forget to take a lot of things when he goes hunting.

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll be home sooner than you think.”

“You’re not going alone right?”

“I’m going with my brothers and others who volunteered. Otherwise, it’d just be Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar. Who knows what they’d do without me there?”

“You’re right. Always the peacemaker.”

You kissed his lips briefly. “Be safe.”

“Always.”

You were about to go outside when Ubbe pulled you back.

“Do I get a kiss?”

You pecked his lips.

“For protection.” You said as he stood there with his arms crossed waiting on you to attend to him.

Kiss.

“May the gods watch over you.”

Kiss.

“May you have luck on your journey.”

Kiss.

“May you come back to me.”

Kiss.

Ubbe cupped your face in his hands. “I’ll always come back to you. If we can’t find it before sundown then we’ll head back. It’s not worth it if we risk it all.”

“I thought you said it was, earlier?”

“If there’s a chance then yeah, but if its something that ends my life and keeps me from you, then no. Killing this thing is a bonus. You are the prize, my love. One I’d like to come back to.”

“Such a sweet talker.”

Ubbe kissed your lips synchronizing his mouth with yours. His lips were soft and his hands on your face were rough but gentle at the same time.

Ubbe was reluctant to let you go. He made this kiss last longer than the others.

When he finally pulled away he watched your reaction. He always enjoyed watching as your eyes were closed and your lips plump after he kisses you.

When you opened your eyes you couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze. He just had that effect on you. Every time.

“You better be off. Be safe my love.”

“Always.”

After Ubbe left you prayed to the gods that he and the others would return safe and that the beast would be brought down.

It brought you some peace of mind. Although, your mind never seemed to ease whenever Ubbe would leave. Even for simple trips. He would constantly plague your thoughts.

If wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t getting dark already. You stared at Ubbe’s now cold food as you continued waiting. Everybody was indoors early since the stories of a beast had begun circling around Kattegat.

A sudden commotion brought a few on comers outside to investigate. You opened the door and saw people gathered in one area. You followed them to see what was happening.

A man stumbled onto the floor disheveled with blood all over his clothes.

You got closer and noticed he had gone with the hunting party that left earlier.

“There... was a beast,” he said out of breath.

“Where’s everybody else?”

He shook his head rapidly.

“We have to go out there for potential survivors.” A person spoke up.

“No way! I’m not going out there again.”

“Out of the way! Move! Get back!”

All the commotion brought more attention to the people wanting to know what was going on. There were a few more people coming from the woods headed in.

You tried to get a look to see what was happening but the crowd kept you in place increasing your frustration.

People in the crowd began to turn towards you and parted a path. It confused you but you made your way through nonetheless.

“Oh my,” you covered your hand over your mouth at the sight of Ubbe. He was covered in blood which seemed to be endless.

You didn’t know where it started and where it ended because there was so much blood. He was practically drenched in it.

The healer cut off his shirt and exposed his skin what was left of his skin. The crowd from behind clamored at the sight.

Some had to look away. It was a bloody mess. You didn’t know how Ubbe was still alive after such an attack. But yet he was still breathing. Faintly.

There were substantial gashes on his body. Where there was hardly any skin left.

“What animal could’ve done this?” You asked the healer.

“I don’t know but from the looks of it, it had to be of an incredible size to do this to a grown man.” The healer looked at you with remorseful eyes. “It’s best you say your goodbyes. He probably won’t make it through the night.”

You couldn’t fathom the possibility of losing Ubbe. It seemed unreal. Everything was fine this morning and now he was going to die.

Tears fell down your face blurring your sight of him. You wiped them away quickly and continued to stare at him.

This was the love of your life. No words could possibly do him justice for what he brought into your life.

You wanted to hold him but you were afraid to. Any wrong move on your part could possibly cause him pain or to bleed out even more.

“I love you, Ubbe. I love you so much. You’ve brought me more joy than you can imagine. Thank you, so much. Rest now.”

You kissed his forehead and brushed his hair back.

Tagged: @belovedcherry @lordsexmachine @lol-haha-joke @mariaenchanted

#Ubbe x reader #Ubbe Imagine #Ubbe Ragnarsson #Ubbe Lothbrok #Ubbe fanfiction #Vikings #Vikings fanfiction

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deejadabbles · 4 years ago

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The House of Anubis (Atem x Reader Halloween Special)

Part Two: The Shadows

One //// Two //// Three (coming soon) ///

Summary: The house was large, a manor, really. Imposing, yet striking more aw with every turn of a corner. You had never thought you’d be dragged back into the family business, but your brother needed you, and so too did his latest project. It stood alone among the trees, yet, you never felt alone when inside. Hairs prickle on the back of the neck, shivers run down spines, and hands fidget with every unoccupied moment. And the thing- or rather, person, who simultaneously eases and worsens these feelings? Atem, a man who was just as mercurial as the house itself, all smirks and light comments one moment, then lingering stares and strange musings the next. So the real question remains, will you uncover the secrets both the man and the manor are harboring?(A Halloween mini-series inspired by the show ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ and the movie 'The Frighteners’. The Reader x Atem themes are, admittedly, light as this mostly focuses on a spooky haunted house story, but the romantic undertones are there. Gender-neutral reader.)

A.N. HAHA look at me, actually getting this chapter done just in time to end Halloween on a good note! I can't believe I did it, but I'm proud of myself. We still have a chapter (maybe even two depending on how the ending goes) until we get to the end of the miniseries, but I hope this is creepy enough to spice up your Halloween! I also hope everyone had a good holiday in general, whether you stayed in watching movies, dressed up with a friend/loved one, or actually managed to get some treats! Also @ohyema and @itachified figured I’d tag you so you wouldn’t miss this <3

Happy Halloween!

You swiped at your forehead yet again, clearing off more sweat gathering there. Why exactly had you picked the last hot day of the season to do this?

Oh well, at least it was done now, you told yourself as you leaned back, stretching your muscles and looking over the work. It was only a temporary ramp, laid over the crumbling front steps, but it would serve its use: helping your brother get inside so you could both be in the house even before he was recovered. Just because he couldn’t lift anything didn’t mean he couldn’t help.

After weight testing the ramp to your satisfaction, you tucked the few tools you dug out for the job back into your belt. However, before heading into the house, you took a moment of respite, wandering over to the small wicker table that would likely need to be repaired or thrown out. You were surprised and lucky to find that the local gas station actually sold your favorite drink and took a long swig of it after sitting down in the equally disheveled wicker chair. With a long exhale you scanned the grounds around you, the forest, the forgotten flower beds that would need cleaned up as a bonus selling point, the weedy grass in between.

Despite the unkempt appearance, it was still peaceful. More peaceful than you felt inside the house anyway. Though, admittedly, the isolation that you disliked inside the manor persisted out here in some ways. Cars rarely passed on the road, not that you could see it from the house, the woods walling the grounds made an effective barrier, almost letting you wonder if there was anything beyond them at all. But there was, and out here you could tell that. Birds sang, squirrels and other critters nested in the trees, and there were houses somewhere in the distance. It was easy to shake aside any foreboding or negative musings out here.

Allowing yourself a few minutes more, you closed your eyes and took in the smell of the approaching autumn. It would only get chillier from here, but today the breeze felt nice and you only made yourself get up from the seat when you found yourself edging dangerously close to a nap.

With a sigh you grabbed your drink and headed inside, annoyingly aware of the work that still needed to be done today. You had left the doors open but shut them tight behind you since you would be occupied inside for the rest of your would-be work shift. The music you were playing from the boombox was louder now of course, but you didn’t bother turning the volume down since your next project was in the library.

As usual, you passed through the conservatory to get there and hoped that the room would wash a calming mood over you. The garden-like room was quickly becoming your favorite in the whole house. Perhaps it was how open the room was, easing the trapped effect big and old manors tended to have when you were alone in them. Or maybe it was just the peaceful sound of nature on the other side of the glass walls doing their job.

Either way, passing through the conservatory and even lingering there a moment didn’t help you. The moment you shut the door to the study behind you something seemed to tighten around your whole body, making you quite aware of the deeper breaths you had been taking since resuming the renovations.

You felt stupid for it, knew that your unease was the same unease you felt in any other large home. Having no one else around just made the wide and vast rooms feel more...void-like. Knowing that there was room beyond room around you just...empty, devoid of anything but chairs and paintings and figurines atop mantels; that you were the only living thing moving from room to room-

You shook your head, wanting to slap yourself. It wasn’t a new feeling, and you told yourself you should have gotten over it by now, this weird uneasiness of voids and empty spaces. Of being completely alone.

Of course, your next task surely wouldn’t help your discomfort.

It was only your second day of actually working on the house, but you told yourself you couldn’t put this next task off for the third day or the day after that. Surely the worst part would be cleaning up the blood, which you had done on the last visit. Surely climbing up that ladder and patching up that window wouldn’t be terrible.

So why did you find yourself standing at the bottom of the ladder, staring up at the cracked pane for nearly five whole minutes?

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, honestly, there was nothing to be scared of, it’s not like the ladder caused your brother’s heart attack. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you reached out, fingers closing around the metal step.

Something crawled up your spine.

Something so tangible your body jerked, but you knew nothing was behind you. No, no it was just cold. But why was it so intense? You shivered next, still paused in your act of climbing the ladder- why was it so cold all of the sudden. You forced yourself to look up, eyes crawling up the ladder toward the window, images of what might meet your gaze playing in your mind.

But there was nothing, just the cracked pane and the sunlight seeping in through the stained glass. Still, you were finding it hard to breathe even as you tried to ease the breaths out in a calming manner. You had just fought off another shiver, when something gave a shout somewhere behind you.

A gasp almost escaped as you wheeled towards the door that led to the study. Someone had called your name. Your heart was thundering in your ears now, breaths getting caught in your lungs. Another beat, your breath holding as you simply stared towards the door and the call from the other side. Then, the voice said something else.

And your lungs released their chokehold on you. It was just Atem. Or at least you thought you recognized that sultry baritone. Seriously why the hell were you so damn jumpy?

With a ragged sigh, you all but stormed towards the study, passed the room, and stepped out into the conservatory. Atem stood there, by the glass door that led out to the grounds, looking cautious as he peered into the home. He flashed you that small smile when he spotted you.

“I thought I would ask permission before entering this time, since I startled you so badly during our first meeting.”

You actually found yourself snorting at that, “Thanks, but you can always use the doorbell you know.”

“It’s broken. Has been for years.”

“Of course it has,” you sighed, actually vaguely remembering the note to fix it being way down at the bottom of your brother’s to-do list. Then, after realizing that he was still waiting for permission to enter (what was he, a vampire?) you waved for Atem to follow you. “Come on, you can help steady the ladder while I patch the window.”

He complied wordlessly, and as you slipped into the study, you remembered how you wanted to scold him about shutting doors properly. Just as you started to look over your shoulder though, you heard the soft click of a latch behind him. Satisfied, you just gave an approving nod without even turning as you both entered the library.

Perhaps it was still your own lingering apprehension, but you were acutely aware of the way Atem seemed to stiffen as you approached the spot. His eyes drifted up the wall beyond the ladder, as if he was taking stock of every inch of it, waiting for it to do something. Maybe brother was right, maybe Atem was a bit traumatized from finding him mid-heart attack. No one could blame the man, heck, just the knowledge that it happened here was freaking you out. Enough to make you a jumpy cat at every cold breeze and knock, at that.

“You okay?” the question was out before you even realized you wanted to ask it, but it felt right.

Atem’s eyes flicked away from the wall to gaze at you from their corners, “I will be. Just...promise me you’ll be careful.”

You gave a shrug, hoping to lighten the mood, “Come on, not like this spot in the house is a heart attack inducer or something, I’ll be fine.”

To further lighten, you stepped towards the ladder, facing your own hesitation head-on as you prepared to climb.

“That’s not what I meant, not exactly.”

Atem’s voice was low, and it almost seemed to tickle your ear despite the fact that he hadn’t moved closer. When you looked over your shoulder his gaze was steady, boring into you with something too gentle to be intensity, but too binding to be soft.

“Just be careful while you’re in this house,” he continued and you couldn’t break his gaze even if you wanted to. “This place...it has a bad habit of collecting accidents. Just...please be careful.”

Your throat was dry, so dry you didn’t bother trying for a verbal response. Instead, you just nodded after a moment, and something in your chest seemed to release when another smile lifted Atem’s lips at the agreement.

Despite how odd that moment might have been, you still took comfort in Atem’s presence as you turned back to the ladder and began climbing with care. Some part of you still expected something to happen with each step you took, but you were able to push the paranoia to the back of your mind.

After the hurdle of the climb was over, the actual patch job didn’t take more than a couple minutes, just gluing the cracks so they didn’t spread further and taping up plastic. The pane was a simple square, easily replaceable much to your relief. You were just about to climb back down when something else caught your eye.

Oh, you almost forgot about the odd tears you had seen on your first visit, but up here they were almost at eye level. Seeing them up close was even more odd. There were two tears in the wallpaper in the small space between the window and the bookshelves. They weren’t warped or bubbled enough to be moisture or water damage, besides that there weren’t any other signs of that on the walls. You ran your fingers over the tears, feeling the rough texture of the thick paper. The edges weren’t clean, they were frayed, stressed, like something had swelled underneath until the paper burst. Again your mind went to water damage, but you had never seen it do something quite like this, and surely it would have bubbled up further down the wall.

“Is everything alright?” Atem called from below, snapping you out of your baffled wondering.

You shook your head, “Uh, yeah, just trying to figure out what caused these marks. Always have to watch stuff like this, houses will give you signs of problems if they can.” Another motto your parents had left with you and your brother, though you supposed it was true in a way, you always had to look closer at these things, in case they were symptoms of a worse issue.

But, since you couldn’t find anything wrong besides the cosmetic damage, you opted to leave that for further investigation on another day. Besides, you were still a bit eager to get down.

You climbed back to the ground with ease and found Atem waiting patiently with his hands tucked in his pockets. It was only then that you took real notice of the man’s clothes: a plain black turtle-neck, and dark blue pants that weren’t as casual as jeans, but not dressy either, honestly you weren’t sure what kind of pants they were. He looked cozy in them at least, which, despite the heat of today, would be useful as fall continued.

“So, what’s next?” Atem asked with polite curiosity.

“I’m heading upstairs now, there’s a support beam in the attic I need to check on and a leak in a sink that should be taken care of before it gets worse.” You hefted a bag of tools over your shoulder.

He followed beside you as you headed towards the library door that led to the entry hall and the main staircase. At least the architect of this place had the common sense to make most rooms accessible from most parts of the house. You had been in several from the victorian era that were like mazes to get through, that had rooms you could only open after jogging through four other rooms.

The second floor of the house wasn’t as grand as the first in terms of decor or originality. In fact, most of the rooms were rather standard for a place built in the 20s, though still emulating the victorian style. The third floor wasn’t much either, though it had a nice loft above a den-like area that could definitely be the envy of any kid’s room. Heck, even you caught yourself daydreaming about how you would have decorated the space as a kid. Most of the third-floor rooms were cramped compared to the rest of the house, ceilings angled as the roofs neared their peak, spaces narrowing as the craftsman style made the rooms more haphazard than the first and even second floor.

The only access to the attic was via the second set of stairs in the house, the narrow servant’s stairs near the back. It was even more cramped up here, despite the fact that there was literally nothing but cobwebs, dust piles. and some minor debris from the house chipping and flaking away with age. Anyone on the tall end of the spectrum would have to crouch the whole time they were up here or risk banging their heads into the rafters and ceiling frames. You noted that Atem was short enough to avoid that problem altogether, though that wild hair of his was likely collecting some cobwebs.

He was rather quiet, another note made as you shuffled your way across the attic.

“I replaced this support beam the other day,” you started, if only to have some form of conversation, “it was the next pressing thing on the to-do list, but it’s been a while since I’ve done a repair that important so I want to keep checking on it.”

“You did such a thing by yourself? Isn’t that dangerous?” Atem asked, and though you couldn’t see his face as he walked behind you, you were sure his eyes were a bit narrowed in a silent scolding. “I never thought work like this should be done alone, yet you and your brother seemed determined to do so.”

You flashed him a rather flippant scowl over your shoulder, “We’re not stupid, yes, we do prefer to do things with minimal help, mostly because of cost, but we do hire other people when we need to.” You had reached the beam in question, and inspected it carefully as you continued, “There’s this kid- well, teenager, in town he had already agreed to help when it was needed, so he helped me with this.”

Atem apparently didn’t feel the need to reply and you took another minute to look your work over in silence. Then, satisfied, you looked back at your companion. He didn’t seem to be quite there, mentally speaking, he was gazing at nothing in particular and only blinked himself back into the moment once you gave a gentle call of his name.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. Well, at least you have help when you need it, I can’t imagine how upset he would be if you got injured while having over his project.”

You snorted at the thought, though you supposed your brother would be beside himself if you got hurt. Big brothers were always expected to be protectors, but that went double for yours. He had taken the role as your guardian very seriously after your parents were gone.

“Never mind him,” your tone was light again, still trying for that easy air, “ I’ll be beyond pissed if I have to join him in physical therapy.”

Moving on, you ducted past the beam, and Atem jerked out of your way as you headed towards the stairs.

“So, Atem, I really don’t know anything about you yet, mind if I ask some stereotypical questions?”

He made a small scuff of a laugh, “I don’t mind, ask away.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a historian. You made a joke the other day about me being an Egyptologist, I’m not, I simply know quite a bit about history in general.”

“So you, what, mostly do stuff online? There can’t be much call for a historian out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“I manage. You could say that I don’t need much to get by, and live a rather quiet life.”

As you two came to the door that opened to the stairwell, you took a moment to look back at Atem. He hadn’t really answered the question, though you supposed it wasn’t much of your business if he didn’t want to. Hell, for all you knew he wrote historical erotica and was too embarrassed to admit it. You had to hide your smirk at the thought as you turned to march down the stairs.

“Are you married? Seeing anyone in this teeny little town?” you asked next, though you were worried the loud creaking of the steps under your feet would drown out his answer.

“No, I don’t tend to get out enough to date. And you?”

If you hadn’t asked the single or taken question first, you’d be tempted to tease the way his voice went up a notch when he asked you. “Nope. Been single for over a year now, but that’s okay, he was an ass you made me seriously reconsider my dating priorities.”

“I see...”

You thought you heard Atem take a breath, ready to say something else, but a noise from your phone interrupted him.

“Right on time,” you said, taking a quick glance at the screen, then, seeing Atem's curiosity you waved the screen displaying your brother’s name and message, “He’s giving me a one-hour warning before his therapy is up so I know when to head that way. Should give me just enough time to fix that pipe.”

You notice a slight fall in Atem’s expression, “I did not realize you would be leaving so soon, I suppose I should have visited earlier.”

Though you weren’t sure why, something akin to guilt started itching at your chest, especially since he was seeming to avoid your gaze now, opting to look at the hallway walls instead.

“Well, if you’re free tomorrow, both of us will be here all day,” you suggested, even as you turned into the master suite. “Now that I put that ramp in, we can spend most of our free time here. Besides, I know big bro will be happy to see you, he’s pretty certain that he traumatized you last time you saw him.”

You were happy to hear Atem chuckle at the words. “You can assure him that it takes more than that to shake me, at least now that I know he’s alright.” Right when you reached the bathroom door, Atem stepped slightly in your way, making you halt. “I will be sure to visit you both tomorrow, until then, have a good day,” he ended the parting words with your name and a nod of his head, though his eyes lingered on you, trailing over your face for a long moment before he stepped back.

“You too…” the words lingered after him and his rather abrupt goodbye as he headed out of the room, only giving you a smirk over his shoulder as he went.

He had done that during your first meeting as well, suddenly taking his leave as if his time here had always been pressed. Then again the man had a life of his own, work or errands likely calling his attention.

Shaking it off as the man just being ‘a bit odd’ as your brother had said, you went ahead and stepped into the bath to wrap up the day’s chores. As you crouched near the sink and dug out the needed tools, you tried to listen for the front door, but there was only a soft thud somewhere in the distance. That made sense though, sound rarely traveled well through homes like this.

Much like the window patch, this was an easy fix, just replacing the gasket that had worn down in the past years, and you had bought the part in the city earlier that day. You hummed to yourself as you worked and barely more than ten minutes later you were done. You noticed a knot forming in your shoulder from the awkward position, and tried to stretch it out as you reached up to turn the faucet on. After letting it run for a bit you were sure the leak was fixed and climbed to your feet. Stretching again, you took in the bathroom’s design, hating how much it would cost to repair everything else in here.

Alexander Hawkins had apparently wanted to feel like the royalty he snatched treasures from, because his master bath was reminiscent of a pharaoh’s bathhouse- or at least what you imagined one looked like. Turquoise mosaics made up the sink, backsplash, and countertops, the walls were painted with a pattern resembling flower bundles, and decorative pillars flanked the bathtub. To top it all off the tub itself was large, with two steps leading up to it, golden faucets, and depictions of Isis and lotus flowers on the sides.

The problem was that time had not been kind to the delicate materials, and numerous cracks littered the tiles and mosaics making up the room. If big brother wanted to keep the design intact, it would cost. Still, the bathtub was in working order, and it was only the outside tiles that needed replaced, that was a plus.

Oh, the thought of a shower was inciting. your shirt was sticking to your back and you felt dirty from the sweat you had collected while working outside. You were going out to eat again tonight, and the thought of going out like this really did not appeal. The tub was clean, showing that your brother had probably used it several times after getting dirty himself. And besides all that, you did have a towel and spare shirt in your backpack downstairs.

You checked the time on your phone. If you hurried, you could get just clean enough and still only pick your brother up only a few minutes late. You at least had the decency to shoot him an “I’ll be late” text as you bolted for the stairs. You snatched your backpack up and headed back up the stairs in record time.

It was only when you reentered the master bedroom that the eerie emptiness of the house started to creep back upon you. It wasn’t so bad with Atem around, having another person made the whole house feel more...alive. But you forced the uneasiness to the back of your mind as you slipped the sticky clothing off, you only had to deal with it for a few more minutes, you could handle that.

The tub didn’t have a curtain, relying on the sheer size of the tub to catch all the falling water, so you just stepped in and turned the golden faucet on, instantly singing as the water hit your bare skin. You reveled in the rain-like droplets, closing your eyes and simply letting it wash over you. You let yourself have this for a while, long enough for steam to build up and cloud the mirror over the sink and then some. But, unfortunately, you couldn’t relax for long, time wasn’t on your side after all.

So with a final rinse, you turned the knob and let the water roll down your skin down the drain, before stepping out. You had to be wary of the time floors, now slick with the condensation of your hot water. After thoroughly patting yourself down with the towel, you walked to the vanity where your new shirt and the rest of your clothes lay.

Your fingers had just touched the fabric when something cold ran up your arms

You froze, just like in the library, something intense and unknowing wracked your senses. It made the hairs on the back of your next stand up, your skin shiver and crawl. Before you could even think as to why, your eyes were darting up to the foggy mirror- and your heart nearly stopped in your chest.

Something had clawed at the glass.

No- no. You took a step back, shaking your head as you clamped your eyes shut. Don’t be stupid, nothing had clawed at the glass! You took a calming breath before opening your eyes and looking at the streaks closer. You were thoroughly scolding yourself now, they were just finger marks, likely having been there for years since the glass hadn’t been cleaned in all that time.

Of course, that’s why they were, there was even a spot that looked like a palm below the streaks. It was the same as drawing on a mirror with water then blowing hot breath on it, it was bound to leave marks. Still, the fact that you were so jumpy was off-putting in of itself, why did this place have that effect on you.

“Christ, what’s wrong with me?” you snapped to yourself. Then, in an irritated move, you swiped your hand across the mirror to clean off the rest of the steam-made fog before snatching up your clothes.

Crack!

Something flashed just above your hand and you reared back with a cry just as a shard of glass shattered on the turquoise sink! You nearly slipped on the tile in your frantic move, but just managed to catch yourself on the counter. Heartbeats were thundering in your ears again as your eyes snapped back up to the mirror.

There, right across the middle in a jagged slash, the glass had cracked, leaving the top half to fall free and nearly impale your hand. You let out another curse under your breath, only then realizing that your breaths were coming out in something just short of frantic heaves. With another step back, slower this time, you closed your eyes, keeping your hand clamped over your heart as you calmed your breathing.

Your sense came back with every breath and once they were under control, you forced your mind to start thinking rationally again. Just like the ‘claw’ marks, the breaking had to have a logical cause. The glass was old, yes, that was it. It was just used to years of the temperature only changing slowly over the seasons. Your hot shower, the drastic temperature change, must have stressed it, and your irritated rubbing was the last straw. That had to be it. You told yourself as much even as you opened your eyes and looked at your jagged reflection.

“Just being jumpy,” you assured yourself in a whisper, the half-face in the mirror staring back at you just like any normal broken mirror would.

Still, once you tore your gaze away from it, you were practically tripping as you yanked your clothes back on, and didn’t look back as you sprinted out the door.

One of the only spots in the village of Hartstown was a mom and pop diner that had specials labeled things like “kettle-me hungry soup” and “sandwich supper surprise”, but the restaurant was decent enough despite its nonsensical wordplay on the menu. Though you had ordered something safer than a surprise sandwich stuffed with lord knew what, you were still picking at your plate with a disinterest that had little to do with the meal.

The scene of that glass shard falling kept replying in your mind, not only that, but your reaction to that and practically everything before it. Maybe it was just the AC unit near your booth, but you thought you even felt a phantom of the shivers that had crawled up your spine during those uneasy moments.

“So, as you might have guessed, I’ve definitely decided to head to LA and dance naked in front of Scarlet Johansson!” your brother proclaimed from the seat across from you, which promptly caused you to blink back into the moment.

“Wait-” you shook your head and finally looked back up at him, “what the heck are you going on about?”

With the good-grace of a toddler, he rolled his eyes at you, “Finally I get your attention, I’ve been rambling nonsense for the past two minutes!”

“Sorry,” your voice sounded more defeated, more tired than you meant it too, and you tried to give him an apologetic smile to strengthen the word.

At that, his brows actually drew together a bit, his eyes gaining a more serious look, “Are you okay?” he asked, tone low, gently nudging, “You’ve been off ever since you picked me up, you’re starting to worry me.”

You opened your mouth, intending to brush his worry off with a ‘yeah’ or ‘of course’, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you finally set your fork down and said, “I don’t know. I… can I ask you something, even if it sounds stupid or silly?”

“I think I got desensitized to silly questions that time you asked me why dragons aren’t real when you were four.” He was grinning now, obviously trying for an easy air, but it only lasted a second before he dropped the silly smile and leaned in. “Come on, you know you can tell me whatever. What’s wrong?”

“Have you...since you’ve been working on this house, have you noticed being more...uneasy, or jumpier? Like does the place make you unsettled at all?”

His brows were furrowed again as he thought the question over. He took his time, maybe looking over all the days spent there, or maybe just trying to figure out the best answer that wouldn’t upset you. “Well, not really. I don’t feel more jumpy necessarily, but… okay, this may sound stupid but, I actually started having these weird dreams about the house. I don’t remember my dreams a lot of the time but these were like...super intense. But I just figured I was stressing over getting the renovations done.”

He thought for a moment again, actually biting his lip before continuing.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I had the weird dreams not long before the heart attack. Maybe they were signs of my health taking a big drop, you know stress or whatever?” His eyes, which had been staring unfocused at the pine colored table, now snapped back up to you. “Why do you ask? Been getting weird vibes from the manor or something?”

Suddenly feeling more embarrassed than before, you picked up your fork again, only to resume batting your food around. “I’ve just been acting kinda jumpy and nervous when I’m in the house, that’s all.”

“Weird, that’s not like you,” concern and even a little interest was apparent in his voice, “heck whenever mom and dad moved us to a new project you were never afraid or skittish of exploring the old places. And I can’t remember how many times I woke up in the dead of night and had to drag you back to bed.”

“I know, it’s why I’m weirded out by the way I’ve felt while in the manor. Doesn’t make sense...” He didn’t say anything at first, and when the silence persisted for a few beats longer, you took a deep breath and put on your biggest smile for him. “Eh, doesn’t matter now, I’m sure it’ll get better now that you’ll keep me company while I work.”

He stared back at you for a bit, eyes narrowing some to show just how unconvinced he was. Still, he let it drop and gave a shrug. “Yup, thanks for putting in that ramp, I think making myself useful will help my recovering go by faster.” Then, obviously deciding to let you move on from the topic, he snatched up the dessert menu tucked between the salt and pepper shakers. “Anyway, if you aren’t going to finish your food, we have to get something in your stomach. You want some cake or ice cream?”

The next day began a repair project sure to be a lengthy one. After talking it over you and your brother decided that working on the grand staircase should be the next task and you were dreading the days upon days it would take to get everything he wanted regarding the staircase done. Well, at least you had help.

“Bring your end to the right just a tad, Max,” you said, making a slight motion with your hand so he wasn’t in doubt on if you meant your right or his. “That’s it, perfect!”

The son of the local hardware store owner was impressing you more and more as the day ticked on. He was a surprisingly capable and had good intuition on what needed to be done as you two worked together. Heck, when he helped you install that replacement beam you hardly had to coach him at all.

“Yes yes, you’re both doing an amazing job! Looks great!” your brother called from his lounged position in the entry hall.

Seeing as how you and Max were crouched in the cupboard space under the stairs, he had made camp on the other side of the opened door with a cup of coffee and some cookies Max’s mom had baked for the three of you. He had also made a habit of gloating for the past fifteen minutes. After screwing brackets to the planks you and Max cut to size, there wasn’t much work for your brother to do, something that he was all too willing to make comments on.

“Oh shut it, before I kick you in your bad leg,” you grumbled as you twisted to the side to screw in the wooden brace you and Max were holding under the step.

“That, kiddo, is sibling abuse and I will not have it from my servants,” he replied, doing a terrible impersonation of an English Lord.

He jumped in his chair when you kicked a stray L bracket at your foot through the door and towards him, promptly causing Max to stifle a snort.

After that “attack” he managed to remain silent as you and Max continued to work, at least for a while. Sometime later there was a knock on the front door, one that echoed so cacophonously, that poor Max gave a start, knocking his head into the underside of the stairs. Your brother called for whoever it was to come in, and the door creaked open with a groan.

“Atem!” he called to the visitor, and though you couldn’t see from your spot in the cupboard, you heard Atem give a warm hello in return.

“I see you’re doing well, I’m glad,” Atem went on and you could just see his figure as he stopped beside your brother’s seat.

“Yup, just have to get these limbs healed up,” he wiggled his cast-coated arm and leg, “after that I’ll be back on the job. And I hear you’ve met the kiddo,” he waved his good hand towards the cupboard, causing Atem to lean down a bit and peer through the door, “and the kid in the back is Max.”

“I have a name too, jackass,” you scolded, before drilling in another screw. He had always made a bad habit of introducing you with the nickname.

“The stairs needed to be repaired?” Atem stepped closer to look over your work with curiosity, though he didn’t enter the space for fear of getting in your way.

“Not dire ones, no, but we noticed some weak points in the wood and figured adding some braces to the steps would be a good call.” You turned to repeat the drilling process on Max’s side, but just managed to catch a glimpse of Atem’s face falling into a slight frown.

“This looks like it will take a while,” Atem muttered and you looked over your shoulder to find his eyes wandering up the many steps.

“It will, especially since the second flights will be harder to get to,” you waved a bit to indicate how the stairs split into two and turned opposite each other halfway up, indeed dreading the chore, “But I think it’ll be worth it, it pays to assure buyers that their grand lavish staircase won’t collapse on them.”

“You’re not going to work into the night, are you?”

At the question, you again looked over your shoulder, almost giving him a raised brow, “Uh, probably not, Max here has school in the morning and we actually like to have a thing called dinner. We’ll be here for a few hours though.”

Atem nodded after a pause of consideration, “Good, it wouldn’t be wise to work so late.”

That comment struck you as odd too, but you brushed it off and turned back to your work. There was silence behind you for a bit, but another glance at Atem showed that he was looking the stairway over with careful consideration. Then, as you and Max moved on to attaching the next plank, your brother decided to distract Atem by waving him back over. Judging by the low tones, you figured he was thanking Atem for saving him that day. Your suspicions were confirmed when Atem simply smiled at him and assured that he was happy he started stopping by the house so often.

You started to tune out the conversation a bit as they chattered, working to get the next brace up before the shake in Max’s arms started to get worse. Once that was done you gave the kid a sympathetic smile.

“Ready for a break?”

He nodded, obviously grateful you had noticed his need for one, poor kid must have wanted to avoid looking like a whiner. When you two stepped out of the cupboard you saw your brother chatting Atem’s ear off and, though he looked attentive to the conversation, you couldn’t help noticing that Atem was looking more worn than the previous time’s you’d seen him.

After tossing one of the homemade cookies to Max and biting into one yourself, you held the plate out to Atem, “Cookie? They’re fresh and super yummy.” You wiggle the plate to further entice him, earning a smirk in reply, despite that he seemed even more haggard now that you were looking at him up close.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass,” he actually took a step back then- and you almost dropped the plate when he stumbled a bit, your instinct to jump forward to help him taking over. He held up his hand the moment he straightened, a silent assurance that he was fine to pair with his thankful smile. “I’m actually feeling a bit under the weather all of the sudden,” he looked to each of you in turn, his eyes holding an apology, “I should be going, the last thing I want is to make anyone else ill.”

You took a step towards him even as he stepped back again, the man was practically worsening before your eyes! “I can walk you home, if you want, make sure you get there okay.”

“No, that’s alright,” his smile had fallen now, though you could tell he was still trying to put on a grateful air.

“Need medicine from town or anything? We can go pick some up for you,” your brother offered next, leaning forward in his chair and watching Atem just as carefully as you.

Again Atem shook his head, “I’ll be fine, but thank you.” He gave a look towards the sitting room, one that was a bit anxious. “Do you mind if I use the kitchen door?”

“Uh- yeah, yeah sure,” your brother insisted, waving Atem in that direction, “feel better soon, dude.”

Atem didn’t say any more to that, just nodded his head in thanks and ducked into the sitting room. You tried to listen to his footsteps as he retreated through the house, but rugs must have muffled his feet. At least you didn’t hear him collapse on the ground.

You and your brother exchanged a look and a shrug, before Max chimed in with, “That dude was weird.”

Again, your brother shrugged, “Wonder what made him feel sick all of the sudden,” his eyes flickered down to the cookies, “I mean, the cookies aren’t that bad.”

“I don’t know,” you signed, then set the plate back down on the end table beside him, “Sucks too, I think he was looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Well, at least we won’t stop coming around any time soon.”

You nodded at that, and the conversation seemed to move on as your brother asked Max to go refill his coffee cup. You quickly offered to do it instead, your mind still occupied with Atem’s odd demeanor and wanting to check on something. It wasn’t until you were turning towards the kitchen that you realized the path Atem had taken was an odd one, as there was a door beside the main stairs that led almost directly to the kitchens. He really must have been out of his head with his sudden illness.

That made you more concerned though and you found yourself double-checking the route he had taken to the kitchen just to make sure he hadn’t fallen on his way out. He hadn’t, but you still scanned the grounds through the kitchen windows as you poured your brother’s coffee, just to make sure. You didn’t see anything resembling a body out there either, thank goodness.

Despite having that assurance, however, you found yourself unable to shake him from your mind, even as you went back to work.

Several days passed, two of them spent at the manor, and not a word was heard from your repeat visitor. The previous day you were there, before you began the day’s work, you had even taken a walk in the forest bordering the manor to see if you could find his house and check on him. The search yielded nothing, and you had to tamp down the worry you felt for the rest of the day.

Honestly, the concern you felt for him was a little surprising, you barely knew the man but couldn’t seem to get him far from your mind. If it wasn’t mulling over how...mysterious he was, it was something else like this.

Now it was the third workday at the manor later, and you were hoping he’d show up today. If he just had a cold or felt bad from the changing seasons, surely he would be better by now. Even aside from your aforementioned worry, you felt his absence particularly bad today, as it was the first time all week that you were alone in the house again.

The stairs were all reinforced now, and today your brother had opted to stay at your shared airbnb seeing as how he couldn’t help much with your project today. You wanted to get all the work needed on the staircase done now, and that included sanding down every step and revarnishing them. It was a necessary task to recapture the manor’s original sparkle, but you didn’t relish how much time it would take.

At least the loudness of the sanding belt gave some form of distraction, you hardly ever had time to think about how empty the house was over the noise. No, instead you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder and taking periodic breaks to check if the house really was empty. You were sure you were just expecting to find Atem leaning against the banister, waiting until you took notice of him before saying anything.

But no, time ticked away and no matter how many times you checked, Atem was nowhere to be found. You worked anyway and took a break to go get some food and check on your brother before going back to finish the job. You were thankful that the house had plenty of lighting because you noted the setting sun as you parked your car in the driveway again. Though you did want to groan at having to be here so late, you were determined to get it done.

There was still plenty of sunlight as you unlocked the front door, but even still, when you opened it you felt the urge to shiver.

Memories of the broken mirror in the bathroom came back to you and gave you pause, the door only half-open. You stood there on the stoop, staring at nothing and only able to register the shiver and those memories. This was ridiculous, the mirror was just a mirror, and nothing strange had happened in the manor that you couldn’t explain away.

Taking a calming breath, you pushed the door the rest of the way open. A vision of someone or something standing on the other side flashed in your mind, but you released a hard huff of air when nothing but the large entry hall greeted you.

You still fumbled a bit frantically for the light switch on the wall beside you, even as the day’s dying light filtered in through the window at the top of the stairs. Again you scolded yourself, rubbing a hand over your face as you all but slammed the door behind you and told yourself to stop being paranoid.

After that, you wasted no time in getting back to work, determined to get the varnishing done so it could dry overnight. This work was quieter than the sanding, but you played your favorite playlist on the boombox to keep distracted. The light outside the window slowly faded until only the lights on the chandelier lit your way, but you didn’t mind. The trees surrounding the house might be particularly foreboding at night, but in here you could easily put such things out of your mind.

At one point you found your eyes closing of their own accord and only snapped them open when your hand felt wet, a result of touching the still wet varnishing in your sleepy stupor. Thankfully two steps after that incident you were finally gloriously done!

With a stretch and a yawn, you took real notice of just how exhausted you were, though little else could be expected after considering how many hours you had worked. Just as you were hating the idea of the drive back to town through the pitch-black roads, your phone rang.

“Hey, how's it going, close to done yet?” big brother asked after you answered.

“Just finished, actually-” a yawn broke the words, causing him to chuckle on the other end.

“Sounds like a good thing too, you sure you’re okay to drive back? Those country roads can be dangerous at night.”

You almost shrugged before remembering that he couldn’t see it through the phone, “I mean, I don’t have much of a choice, not like I want to crash in one of the dust-filled mattresses upstairs.”

“Well, there’s one bed there suitable for human slumber,” he said with a hum, “I cleaned the mattress in the master suite and put spare blankets and pillows in the closet, in case there was ever a night like this and I just needed to crash.”

The sheer magnitude of your exhaustion showed in your cry of relief at the words, “I think I’ll do that, then, because I’m so tired, I could probably curl up on the stairs if I didn’t have a way home.”

“Go for it! Catch some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning, k?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

A tired brand of excitement took over at the promise of immediate sleep, so much so that you almost jumped on the still wet steps before remembering that you would have to take the servant's stairs. That wasn’t a far walk though, and just a couple of turns after the stairs you were in the master suite. Indeed there were blankets and pillows tucked away in the closet and you dug them out greedily before throwing them on the bed. You didn’t bother undressing, considering you didn’t have PJs anyway, and just crawled under the chilly covers, tucked in, and closed your eyes.

Warm took over soon, and with your music still playing downstairs, you were able to drift off rather quickly.

The night ticked on, your sleeping form peaceful from exhaustion even after your playlist came to an end and silence filled the halls. Silence, all except the old grandfather clock ticking in the entry hall. Nothing stirred in the lounge or the kitchen. Nothing shifted in the conservatory besides the crickets resting on the weeds outside the window.

Nothing within the halls of the House of Anubis moved. That is, until the shadows came.

Moonlight had bathed your sleeping form for over an hour, but once the moon crept higher and disappeared above the window, shadows slowly filled the room. You slept on peacefully, even as something scraped behind the walls- claws dragging, searching. Something whispered, something growled as it dragged itself closer to new flesh; a new victim.

The shadows were its paths and something shifted beneath the thick wallpaper of the master’s room. Its claws scraped just enough to make you stir for a moment, but it wasn’t enough to wake you, even as the wall above your headboard started breathing. A hiss, and the walls looked more like cloth as something that vaguely resembled a hand moved under it, and down closer to your peaceful form.

In slow, almost labored movements the hand- the boney claw tried to reach out, straining against the wall like rubber, desperate to reach you- desperate to tear and squeeze the life out! It growled again a beast fighting to grab hold of its meal-

Then it reared back and hissed as even darker shadows grabbed hold of it.

There, in the far corner of the room, something shifted in the dark, sharp eyes glowing as the darker shadows chained the creature, yanking it back from you even as it snapped and hissed and spat. Atem stepped out of the shadows then, hands tucked in his pockets as he glared at the thing hovering above you.

“You can’t have this one, I won’t allow it!” he said in a voice low and cold.

With nothing but a thought, more shadows crept into the room, spiraling out from his own shadow like tendrils until they wrapped around the creature. It fought even though it was no use, it was still too weak to stand up to him and Atem knew it. Soon enough with a snarling whine, it retreated, back to the dark hidden pit it came from, leaving Atem victorious.

He closed his eyes, their glowing irises fading as the shadows settled, blending into the natural shapes on the walls as if they were never there to begin with. He sighed as he opened his eyes again, gaze landing on your form. It wasn’t surprising that you didn’t wake, even if you did you’d find an empty room. Still, Atem almost wished you had, almost wished you had seen the creature hovering over you so you would finally have the damn good instincts to stay away from this place at night!

He bit back the bitter thoughts, he couldn’t blame you, not really, and he should just be thankful that you and your brother hadn’t decided to live in the house while restoring it. Even still, his worry simmered in his chest, causing him to step across the room until he was by the bedside. You looked so calm, tranquil, even...vulnerable.

He hadn’t realized he was reaching out to touch your cheek until his fingers were hovering just a hair away from your soft skin. He let it linger there for a bit, on the verge of touch, until he closed his fist and pulled it back with a shake of his head. He was such a fool sometimes. Even after all this heartache, he still found it hard not to get attached, not to cling to every positive force that he encountered.

Even still and even considering the fact that the creature wouldn’t dare return that night, Atem settled down in the armchair beside the bed, and watched over you until sunlight creped over the windowsill and filled the room.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #yu-gi-oh reader insert #ygo #Atem #yami yugi #series: the house of anubis

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deacymercury · 5 years ago

Text

Dear John (Joe Mazzello/John Deacon x Reader)

A/N: Hi! I’m back from the dead haha! This is an imagine that nobody asked for! I haven’t been writing for a quite long time, so please bare with me and my grammatical errors. English is not my native language soooo sorry if this sucks but, I hope you’ll still enjoy!

This is based on Taylor Swift’s song, Dear John.

You continued walking on while crying. You didn’t mind the pain in your foot. The cold wind started to seep through your white dress, making you shiver. But you couldn’t care less. You were too numb to think and feel about everything. You’re too hurt to complain. You don’t even know how many hours you’re walking, you just walked, to get away from him. To get away from them. You don’t want to see their faces anymore. You just want them to vanish in your life completely.

You finally reached your flat. The vast darkness of your room welcomed you; making you feel more alone. You wiped the falling tears briskly as you started moving to get to your bedroom. As you enter your bedroom, you saw your reflection at the mirror. Your hair was disheveled, your eyes are puffy. Your dress is a complete mess too. Seeing yourself being so broken made you cried more. I should have known. You said to yourself as you cry. You propped down to your bed, still crying. You didn’t bother to clean up or remove your heels. You just lay down there, staring at the ceiling while crying. You wished you could vanish for a moment or just get numb for a while and the feelings will just come back right after you feel alright. But it’s not happening. You’re not vanishing. You don’t feel numb. You’re still hurt.

The exhaustion hits you slowly, making the vivid ceiling blurry. You were sleepy. With the tears streaming down your face, you slowly closed your eyes, finally drifting asleep.

“Oi!” you shouted at your best friend, Dana. The two of you met at the uni. She was a literature major who entered a wrong room the first day, and it was your room. She really thought that it was her room that she even chatted you about William Shakespeare. And after that day, the two of you were inseparable. “Where’s my guitar?!” you added. “It’s in the sofa you dummy! You better kill that performance darling!” she said, smiling at you. It was your big day. You’re going to perform at the pub called, Copacabana. You’re an aspiring singer-songwriter; you’re a music major at the university you’re currently studying in.

“You’re not coming?” you asked her. “I am going Y/N! Chill!” she said, as she finished putting her lipstick on. “What’s the use of that bloody red lips Dana?!” you asked her, laughing. “I might find a hot guy there you know.” she said as a matter of fact. “So you’re going there to find a hot guy?” you pouted.

“Don’t be a baby Y/N! Of course I’m going there to support you, finding a hot guy is just a bonus.” She laughed. “Now come on before you get late!” she exclaimed.

The two of you stood still in front of the pub. A big “Copacabana” in a neon light sign welcomed you. You’re starting to get nervous.

“Dana, I think I’m going to back down.” You told her, as you fiddle with the strap of your guitar. “What?! Are you crazy?” she asked you. “We didn’t drive here just to waste my gasoline. We are now entering this pub and you’re going to perform that song!” she told you, voice is filled with conviction as she tugged you towards the bar.

A small crowd welcomed the two you it was filled with students from the university you’re studying. Some of them listen to at the band on the stage, while some of them sit on the pub’s sofa while talking with each other. You started to get nervous again. What if they don’t pay attention to me? Or they didn’t like the song? You’re overthinking again.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted when a man tugged you while holding out your wrist.

“Holy shit!” your best friend shouted as you got separated from her.

“Oh my god please don’t!” you plead at the man. You can see he was clearly, well, tipsy?

“I’m not really interested Sir, p-please I still have to perform!” you told him. He suddenly stopped on his tracks, body’s tensing a bit.

“Fuck.” He mumbled as he scratched the back of his neck. You can’t clearly see his face since it was dim.

“I-I’m really sorry, I thought you’re..” he trailed. “Never mind, I mistaken you with someone else.” He added. He immediately pulled out his hands out of your wrist, apologizing again. You felt like you heard his voice before but you weren’t quite sure where. You’re still stunned with what happened. Your best friend finally reached you.

“You bastard!” Dana shouted at the man, lounging a fist on his face. You immediately pulled you’re your best friend is a fucking black belter on karate, you don’t want to cause any scene. Getting kicked out of the bar that you’re going to perform is the last thing you want to happen.

“What?! This bastard needs to learn his lesson!” she told you, still mad. Some people started looking at you now. “Let’s just g-go Dana. Quentin is probably waiting for me.” You mumbled at her, while looking down.,

“I’m really sorry.” The man told you. “I don’t really have an idea, I mistaken you as somebody else.” He added guiltily.

“Just don’t drag anyone again if you’re not quite sure who are they.” You mumbled at him, walking away. You saw your best friend snicker at the man.

“What a fucking dick.” She said rolling her eyes. “Are you alright?” she asked you, voice full of concern.

“I’m alright!” you smiled, to convince her. But you’re actually a bit scared with what happened.

“Hey Y/N! Dana!” you heard a voice called, making you turn. “I thought you’re not coming! Come on, let’s go at the back stage!” he added. That was Quentin. He’s your classmate, and they owned this bar. He helps his father manage this pub as he study. He saw you had a lot of potential so he asked his father to let you perform tonight. He also performs in the pub sometimes, but managing it is his first priority.

You finally went on the backstage. Your best friend bid goodbye to you because she went on the crowd to watch you. You were really nervous.

“Y/N!” Quentin called you again. “You alright? You’re next after them.” He spoke softly.

“I’m kind of n-nervous.” You mumbled shakily. “First time performing.” You added.

“You can do it Y/N. I heard you sang at the music room the last time, and let me tell you. It was heavenly. So don’t get nervous. Everyone will love it.” He cheered you up.

“Thanks Quen.” You smiled at him. At least your nervousness eased a bit. You finally heard the band performing bid they’re closing remarks. Shit. You told yourself. It was finally you’re time to shine.

“Go get it Y/N!” he told you, as he pushed you towards the stage.

You finally walked down the stage. A lot of people are there, watching. You’re actually shaking as you fiddle with your dress.

“Go Y/N!” you heard your best friend shout in the crowd. You heard the crowd laugh a bit, making you smile.

“H-hi!” you started. You were very nervous. “I’m Y/N. And it’s my first time performing here.” You laughed nervously.

“Just start already!” you heard someone in the crowd. It made your heart beat double. You’re already getting anxious.

“S-sing a long if y-you know the song. This is called Love of my L-Life.” You stuttered.

You closed your eyes as you started strumming down your guitar. You removed all the nervousness you felt, and you started pouring out the emotions you feel on the song. You started to get lost with music. It was your safe haven.

Oh, hurry back, hurry back

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know what it means to me

“That was wonderful darling!” an unfamiliar voice shouted as you finish the song. You finally opened your eyes. The crowd was staring at you with complete awe. You finally bowed down after the song, rushing towards the backstage because you feel like your heart is going to explode.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you shouted, still shaking. You can hear their loud cheers and clap even though you’re already in the backstage. It was a very fulfilling moment for you since it was your first time. Smiling like an idiot, you walked out from the backstage to meet your friends. Dana is waving her hands at your direction so that you can go to them but before you can go near them, a horde of people suddenly appeared and bombarded you with tons of compliments because of your performance.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered, still not getting used of the attention you’re getting. The crowd finally dispersed after they congratulated you. “Ah, finally it’s done,” you mumbled through yourself but before you can even walk away, you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“You had a great performance,” the man told you, as he smiled shyly. He is wearing a white shirt paired with a wide-legged pants. He has long brown wavy hair, and dark brown eyes. His nose is pointed, and his pinkish lips is curved into a smile. He almost looked like a girl to be honest and he looked good under the dim lights of the pub. You looked at him intently. I know met him already but I don’t know where. You said at the back of your mind.

“Oh! I’m sorry for the incident earlier. I’m sorry for startling you, I mistaken you as someone else I know.” he told you, making your eyes go wide. You finally remembered him. He’s the asshole earlier ago!

“Yeah I know I’m quite an asshole earlier, I’m sorry,” he said, scratching his head. You covered your mouth from embarrassment. It was never your intention to say it out loud! “Just don’t do it again, it is never really nice to grab someone you don’t know,” you replied coldly, so that you can hide the embarrassment you feel.

“I’m really sorry,” he quietly said. You just nodded at him in agreement and finally turned your back so that you can go to your friends.

“I’m John by the way. John Deacon,” he followed up. And I’m not interested. You mumbled to yourself as you finally walked towards your friends.

Part 2?

#bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody #joe mazello #joe mazzelo x reader #joe mazello imagine #john deacon #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #queen #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #queen imagine

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audioprompts · 5 years ago

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rules: repost, don’t reblog. just pick a muse of yours and fill it out.

muse: henry emily ( aka “cassette man” ).

BASICS

▸ is your muse tall/short/average? he’s around average height, which is roughly 5′9″.

▸ are they okay with their height? it doesn’t bother him too much; height never really factored into his life or his work, nor has he ever really been mocked for it. ▸ what’s their hair like? before losing his children, it was always short, well-kept and combed neatly ( he actually took care of himself back in those days ); afterwards, it became a disheveled mess. he never takes a brush to it, giving him the impression that he’s always just crawled out of bed.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? before losing his children ( but after starting fredbear’s ), sort of! he at least tried to keep up a somewhat professional appearance as the owner and creator of the animatronics when he wasn’t in costume, although that was difficult, provided how stuffy the costumes tended to be. afterwards, however, spending time caring for himself in any way became a waste of time. he even started showing up to work in his oily, stained flannel shirts. ▸ does your muse care about their appearance? somewhat, once upon a time, in the sense that he just wanted to be presentable to others as a “professional business owner” ( even if that aspect of the job belonged more to william than himself ). nowadays, he doesn’t really give a damn.

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? truthfully, he used to. being considered a suspect of his children’s own murders absolutely crushed him ( it was a last straw atop everything else ), and being the topic of conversations and countless rumors was heartbreaking. if he didn’t learn to numb himself to it over the years, he wouldn’t have survived.

PREFERENCES

▸ indoors or outdoors? indoors, by far. he’s a simple and reclusive man who finds his comforts in private spaces, like the sanctuary of his workshop. ▸ rain or sunshine? sunshine; pleasant weather and free weekends used to be the catalyst for family outings, so he still has a soft spot for sunny days. rain is more of a depressing reflection of his constant state of mind. ▸ forest or beach? the forest. the seclusion is calming to him, and camping out was always more appealing to him and his kids, anyway.

▸ precious metals or gems? metals are always more appealing to an inventor, aren’t they? ▸ flowers or perfumes? flowers are always nice, aren’t they? his kids used to dig them out of the garden around the house and give them to him as a makeshift “bouquet,” and it was the cutest shit ever. ▸ personality or appearance? personality. appearance doesn’t really matter to him, so long as whoever he’s with is kind, loving, and patient with him. someone who was also into robotics and would support his work would be an added bonus. ▸ being alone or being in a crowd? being alone. while he used to subject himself to crowds for the sake of kids’ entertainment, they now remind him of the worst moments of his life. ▸ order or anarchy? order. all he ever wanted was a peaceful life. ▸ painful truths or white lies? painful truths. white lies were saved for when his children were around, when they asked probing questions that they couldn’t quite handle the answers to. otherwise, he’d either be blunt or avoid answering altogether.

▸ science or magic? science! as an inventor, obviously he leans toward the former ( even if his prowess in the field makes it SEEM like magic ). ▸ peace or conflict? peace; however, his planned actions against william and the remnants of his own franchise obviously lean more toward the conflict end of the spectrum. after the shit he’s been through, though, it’s sort of justified -- not to mention that it’ll make the world more peaceful afterwards. ▸ night or day? day. ▸ dusk or dawn? dusk. ▸ warmth or cold? he appreciates warmth just a tiny bit more than the cold; it’s a comfort thing.

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? a few close friends.

▸ reading or playing a game? reading; he has a vast collection of non-fiction books that he studied diligently when he first started inventing, of course, but he does also enjoy reading as a hobby.

QUESTIONNAIRE

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? oh, y’know, his denial, for one thing. the fact that he’d rather throw himself into a delusion than face the fact that he lost his daughter, or that his business partner and closest friend was the person who caused her “disappearance.” beyond that, he’s also more than willing to resort to crimes -- the biggest ones being arson and murder -- to get back at the man who ruined his life.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? haha, everyone. his wife, his children, his “old friend.” he lost his wife soon after their twins were born, and while that in itself shattered him, he had to get through it...for the sake of their kids. but then, losing his daughter after starting fredbear’s absolutely broke him. he was devastated, but struggled to keep himself together for his son ( even though he nearly pulled himself into a denial-induced delusion in the process ). he lost his son soon after to another incident at the diner -- this time, a bite involving an animatronic. he was crushed, all over again, and couldn’t pull himself together for the longest time.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? his fondest memories involve his children; creating and giving them new toys ( and happily watching as they played with them, wonder in their little eyes ), letting them play together in his workshop, having family outings to small diners or ice cream parlors and laughing at how messy they both got. ▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? with certain people, and if he’s been wronged enough, absolutely. he wouldn’t lay a hand on a person otherwise -- he’s not the violent type -- but if you fuck with his family? he’s going to DESTROY you, sooner or later.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? after a severe loss, like the death of his kids, he loses touch with reality. he goes void. when around other people, it’s obvious how detached and absent he is, and he can’t pull himself together. he goes into a deep depression, really only releasing his feelings when he’s alone and going into crying spells. ▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? not easily. after what he went through with william, trust needs to be earned, and even then...he can never really be sure. ▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? henry’s a huge sap in general, so if he ever did wind up falling for someone again, he’d be sickeningly sweet toward them. having lost everyone he’s ever loved, he'd also want to cling to them as much as possible while they’re still around. all that said, however, there’d also be a part of him that’d reject that feeling from the get-go -- he wouldn’t WANT to get attached to anyone ever again, and he’d likely avoid it at all costs.

tagged by: nabbed it from my other blog bc i wanna do it on my fnaf blogs too!! ( for my human muses at least ) tagging: @williamafton, @afton-legacies, @demolitioninevitable ( i tagged this blog for the fnaf aesthetic but u can go for any of em if u want! ), @frightsguard ( any of ur blogs! ), @afunsized, & @mcnystorcies because all of y’all are super rad and nice and i appreciate all of you :’ ))) but no worries if you don’t want to do this or have already done it and i just haven’t seen it!!! consider me tagging just. a token of my love and appreciation instead afdsfd

#🖭 || ᶤ ᵗᵘʳᶰᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇˡᶤᶰᵈ ᵉʸᵉ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶤ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳˑ (musings.) || 🖭#🖭 || ˡᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸˑ (headcanons.) || 🖭

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bethanystan · 7 years ago

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Right In Front of Your Eyes | Finale

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: Angst, Fluff, all the feelings Summary: After your parents were murdered mysteriously, you move in with your godfather Tony Stark, along the way your normal life will be turned upside down, due to a Mr Parker and being hit by a bus. It will all make sense eventually. A/N: Basically, TUMBLR DIDNT UPLOAD IT PROPERLY BACK IN THE DAY AND I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS FIC SO IM REPUBLISHING IT, SUE ME Word Count: 1200+

I hate feeling weak. I hate it. I hate feeling as though I cannot be independent or stand my own ground. However, I am enjoying the view from up here, I mean, it’s nice considering my impending doom. I mean, if one of us must die, it’s going to be me. Peter loves Liz, he can’t let her go. I want him to be happy, so if push comes to shove I’ll sacrifice myself. Hopefully though, he’ll get Tony to help, I just know he’s too stubborn to ask for help, he wants to be independent like me, he wants to prove it to Tony, impress him even. I know him too well.

“Spidey is taking too long…” The annoying bastard kept droning on.

“Mate, let the girl go, I mean she doesn’t even know Spidey personally, I do… So she’s basically pointless-“

“Hey!” I glared at Liz so she’d shut up. She got the message and closed her eyes tightly once more.

“-and anyway, wouldn’t it be more useful to you if you dropped Spider Woman instead of a petty civilian?” Liz’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. I sent her a look that screamed ‘you tell anyone and you may never see the light of day again’. She got the message and closed her mouth once more.

“You have a point. You are more valuable, but I do like playing a game…” I rolled my eyes, this guy must not have a life…

“I suggest you let the young women go.” Peter.

“Ah, glad of you to finally join us.” Peter swung onto the building in front of us, perching on the side.

“Oh, thank god you’re here Spider Man!” Liz cried out. “Aren’t you grateful Y/N?”

“Yeah, I guess.” A malicious laugh was heard from next to us.

“Who will it be Spidey? Your best friend or your girlfriend?”

Once again Liz’s eyes widened. So much for keeping that a secret…

“Peter, choose Liz.” Peter’s eyes snapped to mine.

“What? Why?”

“You’ve known her for longer, not only that but you love her. PIZZA SLICE.” Both Liz and Vulture looked at me with confusion. One night Peter and I made a code, just in case something bad happens, PIZZA SLICE was code for ‘CALL TONY’.

“Now’s not the time Y/N/N, I want to prove myself.” I knew he’d say that.

“Fine! I guess I’ll see you on the other side!” Peter swung over to grab Liz, as expected Vulture pushed the button that released me, falling at 100 mph to my ‘death’ I aimed my hand towards a nearby skyscraper pressing a button connecting to my wrist, releasing webbing, connecting the outside wall. I was pulled towards it, my hair flying behind me, I laughed shouting:

“HAHA FUCK YOU!” Towards the sky. Turning around the building I spotted the Vulture aiming something towards me, a type of gun, just before Peter shot him down he blasted the bullet towards me. I wasn’t quick enough, and the bullet hit me in my right shoulder. I shouted in pain, my web disconnected from my wrist and I grabbed onto my shoulder in pain. Okay, I was back to falling. This time to my actual death. Well, that’s what I thought until I felt a pair of metal arms catch me. I turned my head seeing the iconic Iron Man helmet. Wrapping my arms around it I whispered: “Thank you, Dad-“

Stopping through my sentence I realised what I said, I was about to correct myself before Tony whispered back, “Anytime kid.”

Once we had landed, we were surrounded by reporters and paparazzi, Tony pushed through the crowd with me in my arms, the piercing pain was still prominent in my right shoulder. Tears were streaming down my face, but I was happy that I was safe, and that Peter saved the love of his life in time. Speaking of, once I got to the ambulance, I saw from far away, by the river, the one across from the buildings we were at (I’m sorry I can’t name it, I’m still getting used to it here, geez), Liz lifting half of Peter’s mask, kissing him. I turned my head away, not wanting to watch the two love birds, I missed Peter back away, I missed Liz’s heartbroken expression, I missed Peter leave. Tony turned to me as the paramedics were tending the wound, he noticed my heartbroken face.

“You know, I hate many things in life, aeroplanes, airports, hospitals, but there’s one thing I don’t hate. That’s Peter. It’s quite the opposite really. I lo-“

“Love him, I know you do. We all saw to from the start. And though he won’t admit it, he loves you too, he just doesn’t know it yet.”

Tony wiped away my tears, and I winced as the paramedics cleaned the wound.

“I’m sorry for calling you Dad, by the way, it was a spur of the moment thing.”

“It’s okay, I liked it. I mean you can call me dad if you wanted.” I laughed as he rubbed his neck.

“Okay… Dad.”

The doctor said that my healing factor is 5 times the average human, so my shoulder would take around one week to heal up, which is a bonus, I haven’t seen Peter since the incident, but considering it only happened around 5 hours ago I’m not surprised, he’s probably making love to Liz. I cringe at the thought. I continued reading my book until I was interrupted by a knock on my bedroom window, as I got up I winced at the sudden movement, but got up anyway like the trooper I am! As I opened the curtains I saw the familiar red and blue suit outside. I quickly opened up the curtains and as soon as I did Peter jumped in, pulled me into his arms and buried his face into my neck.

“Oh thank god you’re alright.” He breathed.

“Well, not really, I have a hole in my shoulder.” He laughed as he pulled back from the hug.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with Liz right now? I mean I’ve heard celebratory is the best…” Peter shook his head.

“We broke up…” I stared at him with the most perplex discussion ever. “You what?!”

“Yeah, I realised something up on that building…”

“Which was…”

“That I was in love with someone the entire time, but they were right in front of my eyes, I was just too blind to see it.”

“It’s MJ isn’t it? I mean at least let me give you my approval first.” Peter shook his head; his mask was long since disregarded on my bedroom floor. His tousled brown mop was just begging me to set it straight, but even with his hair a mess he still looked perfect.

“Nope!” He stood closer to me, I pondered for a moment before coming up with a solution.

“It’s Ned isn’t i-“ I was silenced. By what? You may be wondering, well my good friends, something that I have been dying to do since I first met Peter was occurring as we speak. His lips were upon mine quicker than Ned dropping the Lego replica of the Starkiller base. There was a spark. A spark that I’ve never felt before. After recovering from the shock of Peter’s actions I buried my hands into his dishevelled hair, where they belonged to be. In the midst of passion, Peter pushed me onto my bed, his hand’s exploring everywhere they could reach. I hit the button in the middle of his chest that deactivated his suit. Separating from him I said breathlessly.

“I hate many things, Peter Parker. But let me make something clear. You are not one of them.”

#peter parker x reader #tony stark x reader #peter parker #mj x reader #tony stark #tom holland x reader #tom holland

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crest-of-courage · 7 years ago

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Digimon OTP Week Day 1: Coffeeshop AU

Pairing: Taito/Taiyama/Taichi x Yamato

Word Count: 922

Summary: Earning some money to buy the perfect present for his little sister’s birthday is a perfectly good reason for Taichi to get that job at the local coffeeshop. The chance to finally charm the handsome regular with the blond hair and the blue eyes into going on a date with him is just a nice little bonus...

If he was being completely honest with himself, he had to admit that the chances of him getting this job had been pretty terrible.

But since Taichi decided that for today, he was better off not questioning his luck, he just happily accepted the stupid, disgustingly green apron instead and threw it on as quickly as possible; almost as if he were afraid someone would snatch it from him if he didn't.

(And maybe he was.)

The thing was that he simply wasn't what his friends would call “the most suitable” for this kind of job. Standing behind a counter for hours on end, listening to people's complex orders and endless rambles about what horrible days were ahead of them, wasn't necessarily something he could sync with his rather restless personality.

But he was a man on a mission and this mission demanded sacrifices.

First of all, he was honestly kind of broke.

Now this wouldn't be too much of a problem if it weren't for his sister's birthday, which was coming up next month. And since he heard that her new little boyfriend had accidentally revealed that he had gotten her an expensive as hell Polaroid camera, Taichi planned to get her something that would at least equal the thoughtfulness of such a great present.

Hikari deserved it.

The second reason walked into the little coffee shop right this moment.

He felt his heart almost giving up on him the second he caught sight of disheveled blond hair and stormy blue eyes.

Quickly, he put on what he hoped was his most endearing and welcoming smile, even though he himself felt that he might have missed the mark with this one.

“Welcome! What can I get you today?”

The boy in front of him didn't seem fazed by his cheery attitude at all.

“Coffee. Black”, he simply said and Taichi did his best to hide the fact that he already knew his order because he may or may not have seen him around here one time or five.

Which was the elaboration of reason number two.

He remembered asking his best friend Koushiro if asking for a job just to talk to cute blond guy a little more was a new level of pathetic for him.

Koushiro had spared him a single glance, eyebrows drawn tightly together, before quickly returning it to the screen of his laptop.

Which was enough of an answer for Taichi to work with.

After seeing blond and beautiful the next day though, he had accepted his fate.

Had begged one of the employers to hire him by charming an elderly lady into buying three whole cakes for the family gathering she had had that day.

Maybe it was a little more than just pathetic.

But here he was, in that ugly ass green apron, all his hard work finally paying off:

He was serving Mr. Stormy and Mysterious.

“Alright, coming right up! Can I have your name for the order, please?”

He felt his grin slightly wavering when his guest raised one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows and suddenly squinted at him in a very suspicious manner.

“Since when do you need names for the orders?”

“It's new. So we don't mix anything up. Have you never been to Starbucks? They do that too.”

Taichi could watch his suspicion growing visibly and he felt a sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“I feel like I've seen you before”, the boy suddenly said, words slow and with an edge of challenge to them.

“Haha, I get that a lot!”, Taichi exclaimed, quickly covering his embarrassment with a loud laugh.

He can't know. He had never even looked in his direction when he had been here as a guest himself!

His customer looked even more wary of him now.

“Yamato.”

“Huh?”

“That's my name.”

“Oh!”

Taichi quickly grabbed some nearby pen and wrote the name on the cup like this was actual freaking Starbucks and he hadn't just made that tradition up in here.

Then he filled it up with the strong-smelling liquid, his mind racing.

Now or never.

In an impulsiveness that was in no way unusual for him, he grabbed the pen again and scribbled his number all over the cup, which was thankfully hidden from view right now.

A look at the masterpiece told him that literally anyone would be able to see what his intentions were, but he couldn't care now.

Go big or go home, was what they said.

“Here you go!”, he chirped, handing the horror-cup over to blond and beautiful.

Who looked at it completely dumb-founded.

The expressions in his face went through a flurry of emotions within a single second; from confusion, to understanding, to even more confusion.

Then he looked back up at Taichi.

And suddenly, there was a hesitant, but definite happy smile breaking out on his pretty lips.

Taichi felt completely floored.

He had never seen him smile before and the sensation made him almost spill the coffee in the cup all over his hand.

Yamato then took it from him, his gaze lingering on him for a few more seconds, before he handed the payment over (more than was necessary, Taichi noticed), turned around and left the shop, smile still evident on his face.

Taichi felt the desperate need to slap his hands over his face and scream like a little kid that went to Disneyland for the first time.

Mission accomplished.

#urgh i hope this is okay and not too full of mistakes!#digiotpweek #day 1 #coffeeshop au #digimon #taito #taiyama #taichi x yamato #taichi yagami #yamato ishida #tai kamiya #matt ishida

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mell-bell · 7 years ago

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Life is never boring (when you’re a rebel)

aka First time dealing with a sick Cassian

Series 1

AO3

Cassian x Reader

Words: 1529

Series Summary: Sequel to my Cassian and Reader Firsts – bonus chapters from silly things like first water gun fight to dramatic things like DEATH no not really I promise no death

Time Cassian and Reader have known each other: 8 months (Right after Platonic "I love you" and before accidental kiss)

Chapter: 1/?

Author’s notes: Alright so I wrote this so quick because I feel like it's been forever since I promised the sequel and I had a few hours since I got home from work early soooo THE FUN HAS ARRIVED. Was gonna start this out with a dramatic angst chapter and then I was like wtf do I really hate my readers that much haha so here’s a nice fluffy one :) Hope you enjoy!

You sneezed and your eyes widened as Cassian smirked blowing gently on the bowl of soup you had just made him.

“I told you that you’d get sick if you cuddled with me.”

“I am not getting sick.” You sneezed again and groaned.

“Mhm. I’m just going to sit here enjoying my soup as you come to terms with the fact that you are sick.”

You narrowed your eyes and Cassian’s widened with worry. And then you pounced, the bed shaking under your weight as Cassian struggled to steady the soup so it wouldn’t spill. He threw you a light glare but you just smiled sweetly before lifting his arm and snuggling yourself into his side, smothering another sneeze into your elbow, before relaxing fully against him.

Cassian smiled pressing a kiss to the top of your head, but what he couldn’t see was your growing smirk. As soon as Cassian settled to drink his soup, you quickly pinched his side and as he let out a loud squeal you grabbed his bowl of soup and scurried to the end of the bed.

“Victory!” You shouted.

Cassian gave you an unimpressed look and held out his hand, silently asking for his soup back but you just smiled and went to take a sip.

‘”Y/N! Wait, I wouldn’t-“

But it was too late; you stuck your tongue out at him and took a big gulp of soup. The second the soup hit your tongue you froze. A squeak escaped your throat and you immediately spat out the scalding soup all over the bed.

“Ow.” You groaned, sticking your tongue out and frantically fanning it.

“I did try to warn you.”

Cassian rarely got sick but when he did he was a completely inept and out of commission for about a week.

You had been working one day when you realized that you hadn’t run into Cassian once that day. After asking around you found out that he had called out sick. Sick. In the 8 months, you had known him he hadn’t missed even one day of work.

You quickly finished up you work for the day and went to his room. You tried the handle but it was locked.

“Cassian?” You knocked, leaning against the door hoping to hear any sign of life.

“Cassian is indisposed at the moment.”

You turned around raising an eyebrow at K2, “Wanna let me in?” You gestured to the door. K2 paused for a minute, before humming affirmatively and unlocking the door for you.

With a surprised thank you, you quickly shuffled into the dark room. It was sweltering and you immediately began to sweat. You quickly shucked out of your jacket before walking over to the bed.

“Cassian?”

The lump of blankets on the bed groaned and a disheveled head of hair popped out and you smirked.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Y/N, I’m dying.”

You chuckled sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling back the covers revealing a pouting flushed Cassian.

“I’m sure it’s just a cold.”

He coughed, “No. I’m dying.”

With a gentle smile, you leaned over and brushed your hand across his forehead, eyes widening in concern when you felt the heat radiating from him.

“Woah, you need to go to the med bay. You are seriously hot.”

Cassian gave you a lopsided smile, “Hot?”

You rolled your eyes, “Cassian, now’s not the time. You have a really bad fever. Come on up and at ’em.”

You stood grabbing onto Cassian’s sweaty hands and pulled him up. He rested heavily against you and you stumbled slightly under his weight before turning and leading him out the door and to the med bay.

After returning from the med bay, you tried to settle Cassian back into his bed, but he was being stubborn. He had a severe fever. But the doctor hadn’t been too worried. She had given him some medicine and sent him off to rest.

However, whatever medicine he had been given was making him seriously loopy.

As you tucked him into bed, he kept giggling and playing with your hair.

“Cassian, stop wiggling we need to get you in bed.”

He pulled at your hands until you looked up to meet his eyes. He smiled, releasing your hands and raising his to cradle your face, “I love you, Y/N.”

You smiled at his sincerity, “I love you too, Cassian.”

His brows furrowed and he brought your face closer, “No. I really love you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “And I really love you.” You poked him on the nose with a smile.

But he just frowned, his lip jutting out, “No, you don’t get it!”

He groaned and fell down onto the bed mumbling to himself. You successfully tucked him into bed and he fell to sleep instantly.

Sick Shenanigans #1

Your eyes shot open as a loud fit of coughing rocked the room. You blinked frantically, your head swinging around trying to figure out where you were.

“Y/N?”

Right. Cassian’s room.

“Yeah, Cassian?”

He sniffled, his voice sounded all muffled, “Can you get me another box of tissues?”

“I stole four boxes from the med bay yesterday.”

“I know.”

“Well, what did you do with them all?”

“Um....”

“Cassian.”

His eyes flickered over to the corner of the room and you looked over seeing tissues surrounding the trashcan. You looked back at him incredulously but he just smiled innocently.

“So….more tissues?”

You smirked and nodded before running out of the room. A few minutes later you snuck into the med bay. Peeking around the corner you caught sight of Mila, “Pst. Mila. Tissues?”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the box of tissues off the counter next to her and chucked it to you. With a quick thank you you took off again.

When you made it back to Cassian’s room, he was sitting impatiently on the bed.

“Think you can beat this?” You said with a smile as you chucked a balled up tissue behind you and into the trashcan.

Cassian smiled and held out his hand and you jumped onto the bed settling next to him as he went to throw his own balled up tissue.

Sick Shenanigans #2

You narrowed your eyes and tightened your grip on the cup of pills, “Cassian, if you don’t take your medicine, I am going to kill you.”

Cassian groaned, “No.”

You started toward him but he stumbled out of bed and tried to shoot past you to the bathroom but you blocked his way. He shot one way and then the other and somehow was able to get past you, but without a second thought you dropped the cup and lunged at him, knocking him to the ground with a thud.

He tried to wiggle out of your hold but you pushed him down, straddling his waist and holding his hands tight against the ground.

“Cassian. You need to take your medicine.”

He shook his head and tried to buck you off his body, but you held him down.

“Y/N. Let me up.”

“Not until you take your medicine.”

“You have to let me up now.”

“Why would I-“

Cassian sneezed directly into your face and you immediately released him, backing up and frantically rubbing your shirt over your face.

“Sorry?” Cassian shrugged.

Sick Shenanigans #3

You were absolutely exhausted. You had been up for two days straight making sure that Cassian’s fever wasn’t getting any higher. You had just finished tucking Cassian into bed for the night, covering a yawn when he reached up and pulled you down so that you were lying next to him. You yawned again and he brushed a hand across your face.

“You should sleep.”

“No, I need to keep an eye on you.” You mumbled into his stomach.

Cassian smiled, his hands tangling through your hair, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded and curled up closer to him, your head tucking in the corner of his neck.

“You really shouldn’t be cuddling me. You’re going to get sick.” He chuckled but you just groaned waving him off and curling even further into his side.

“I just want to lay here forever. I feel like shit.” You mumbled.

Cassian snorted, “Fierabrás, you do realize you’re not the one that’s sick.”

You made a few more mumbling noises and Cassian just rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around you as you drifted off to sleep. But before you were fully asleep, Cassian poked you.

“Um…I know you were super sweet and bundled me up in blankets, but I really have to go to the bathroom.”

You coughed, your throat burning. As you let out a groan, a hand brushed over your hair and you sighed.

“Cassian, I think I’m sick.”

“I know, fierabrás. Come here.”

You moaned and scouted closer to Cassian, relaxing fully against him. His hand brushed from your hair and down your back as you sneezed and then immediately fell into a coughing fit.

“I’m dying.” You wheezed.

Cassian chuckled, pulling the blanket up over your shivering body, “You’re fine.”

“I. Am. Dying.”

Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll take care of you.”

Tagged: @misswinchester221b @ly--canthrope @heyjess-marie @purelittleblueberry

Next up: First time you broke Draven aka Draven finding out you named your kid after him

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor #rogue one #my fanfic

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silveraspens · 7 years ago

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Hi ya! I am a female with longish brown hair, blue eyes, and am 5'8. I need a costume idea for a party coming up, and would love ideas! Preferrably 1970s rock n rollers (male or female), hence why I'm asking you. If you could give costume ideas and ideas on what to wear that'd be amazing.

Haha I'm honored that you'd ask me for advice on this 😂Well first off flared jeans would be great for any look you go with- but you could also rock a suede skirt too- floral or psychedelic patterned pants, skirts or dresses are always groovy.Tops anything cut off usually works, show that belly! If not, white peasant shirts are very 70s(the more flow-y the better) and any kind of floral patterned blouse is too. If you can wear platform shoes, everybody wore platform shoes man- or just plain old sandals Accessorize with scarves long thing and patterned usually work best, wear lots of turquoise, go for rings (the more the merrier) some cool shades (don't have to be round hippie glasses if you don't want) And brown earthy looking leather jackets work too! Bonus points for fringe! Also wear your hair down and natural and usually the more disheveled you look the better Hope this helps ya dear anon!!!Peace out ✌️

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reyintherain · 7 years ago

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The Last Jedi: Vanity Fair covers reaction and breakdown

Because I’m too hyped not to let it out!

Waking up today to this felt like Christmas! (for the lack of better analogy of waking up to gifts and surprises.) I just went to check if a new episode of the Scavenger’s Hoard was up yet, and what I got was a double bonus of the new episode AND the coveted Vanity Fair spread!

I love that they made 4 different covers instead of just one with either a bunch of characters thrown in together (like the TFA poster which I don’t like much for that very reason tbh) or a select image of, probably, Rey and Luke on the Ireland location. That could be cool too, but would be a) too reminiscent of the teaser poster and b) would not feature other, no less important and wonderful characters. So here it goes, the four covers broken down one by one.

(I tried to keep it short, but it never happens.)

The Force

Luke looks more and more like a god figure, and not a happy one. Whatever he’s been through changed him and left him a pained old man.

I love the burlap sack draped over Mark dramatically. Skywalker drama queen, indeed! (I say that lovingly)

Regarding Rey, honestly, I don’t have much to say, other than they’re playing it safe, and keeping the news on her character to the minimum (yet). She’s got her staff, but not the saber (would it be reading in too much to say she hasn’t let go of Jakku and still waiting for her family to come back at that point in the film?)

I like that random strain of her hair, making a loop in the wind. It’s kinda cute

Colour palette for Rey’s and Luke’s costumes is earthly, brown-grayish, with fabrics that look low-tech and reminiscent of traditionally woven materials. Compare and contrast with the First Order cover with Hux’s luxury silk shirt, Phasma’s ultra tech armor, and layers of dark and 3D printed belt buckle on Kylo.

The weather isn’t up for sunbathing and sipping a margarita on Ahch-To. Could be a coincidence as that was simply the weather on the day of the photoshoot, but I like to see this as a reflection of what’s going on on the island, as clouds gather in the sky.

On a side now, is this a composite image? Because Mark looks taller and larger than Daisy, in ways that suggest these are two separate photos of them combined together. I read somewhere that Annie Leibovitz is fond of stitching photos together (which is totally fine). It’s just that Mark’s seemingly huge hand and head and the way Daisy and Mark look like (or rather do not look like) standing next to each other kind of bother me, but, of course, that’s a minor thing, unimportant for the story and the characters.

The Dark Side

The Dark side? Not the First Order? Interesting choice. Whether one should look too much into this is a question, and the answer is probably not too look too much into that. It’s probably that ‘The Dark Side’ sounds cooler and more ominous than ‘The First Order’. (Still, Tarkin and Krennic weren’t referred to as the faces of The Dark side). Anyways, let’s move on to more exciting parts of this cover!

Phasma looks like she is about to kill someone, and I love it! I love seeing Gwendoline Christie being able to act with her face. Hopefully, that means we’ll get to see a more substantial story for her character this time, because to waste Gwendoline’s talent would be a bummer.

Also, they kept her blonde hair (probably, to avoid complicating things too much. It’s not even guaranteed we see Phasma unmasked in the film.) Anyways, I’m excited to see Phasma unmasked (masks do have an effect of making perceive someone less human), and as a fan of Gwendoline in Game of Thrones, hope we’ll see more of her in TLJ!

Hux. That silky, smooth shirt. I don’t know, I just love it haha! No really, I’m excited to see Hux as part of the promo, and while I’m not the biggest Hux fan out there, his dynamic with Kylo and Domhnall Gleeson’s acting, and emperor!Hux and kylux fanart/tags made me somewhat fond of the character, at least the fandom one.

Kylo Ren. Oh. My. God. Adam Driver is so good at modelling.

Those legs, that pose, the hair, cape over one shoulder -> I’m dead

“Kylo Ren’s wounds go much deeper than the fearsome new scar on his face.” -> I’m dead

It’s so coded for mental health, I just can’t (deep down all I want for Kylo is to find some peace and to see and be in the light again, even for a small part of his being)

Kylo’s ruffled hair actually gives him a slightly mad look, obsessed and passionately disheveled. Compare and contrast with Hux’s new sleek look, down to the shirt and hair. Heck, even their tops reflect each other: Hux’s silk shirt (with no buttons or anything else on it) and Kylo’s textured top

It’s been pointed out many times already that Kylo’s being unmasked for the TLJ promotion could mean and actually supports the idea that TLJ will explore humanity of the character, as per Adam Driver. What’s a more human way than to ditch masks and show emotions on one’s face? Plus as a bonus, we’ll get more of Adam’s performance aside from what he already amazingly conveys though body language and use of the costume

I cannot stop unseeing Eric Maell’s reylo artwork from last year’s Celebration. That rock star pose (hello and thank you, Star Wars Connection)

All in all, the First Order Trio looks ready to kick some ass in The Last Jedi

Leather boots, armor, belts, silk, space denim. I’m loving that aesthetic.

The Resistance

Precious freedom fighters in one photo! They actually look like a fam, and I love it <3 (unlike the First Order trio that’s biz only where Hux is sneering down at everyone and Kylo in particular, Phasma’s just up for the company with her colleagues, and Kylo pursuing his own thing within the Order)

Poe looking fine! No surprise here if you have Oscar Isaac playing the character! Hopefully, this charming poster boy will also get some challenges and more substance to his character this time around

Rose! I’m excited to see Kelly Marie Tran in character! We now know her full name now too - Rose Tico, and that of the new characters, she’ll have the most screen time. What I also find exciting is that Rose is a mechanic, meaning she’s employed in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math, for those who don’t know). Needless to say that we need more women represented in those fields on the big screen.

Finn/John Boyega. Looking gorgeous, determined, and more mature. No really, I love this! John Boyega’s got a great charisma, and it’s great to see him channeling that for Finn. Can’t wait to see more him in TLJ now that he’s a big deal in the Resistance.

Sadly, looks like we might not see much of Finn and Rey together in TLJ (based on these images and other info we know about them). Regardless of that, I’m glad for Finn finding a family, identity, and embarking on a journey of his own.

I wonder if Rey gets a new costume later in the film, will Finn get something of his own too? Recycling is great (perhaps, the Resistance is a bit short on cash too to make custom costumes for everyone), but I would love to see Finn wearing something that reflects him as his own person. He has a name and an identity. Why not give him a signature look too?

Overall, I really like the retro vibe of their looks. Kinda reminds of old movies, with movie stars rocking leather jackets, riding bikes or flying planes in WWII.

The Legacy

Carrie. Standing strong and beautiful. A true freedom fighter, a leader, a royalty. I really love how this image conveys all of that and more what Leia is, and doesn’t shy away from femininity and glamour the character always had.

This is a gorgeous touching tribute to the late Carrie Fisher, and, as many fans, I welcome it, and wholeheartedly celebrate Carrie’s legacy.

I want to say thank you to whoever put Leia’s looks in TLJ together for honouring the character through the costume, the leader and the princess that Leia has always been.

I want to talk more about the way the way Carrie carries herself in the image, that lip pout, and yet slight sadness in her eyes. Carrie does it so well. You can really see all the years and things she’s been through. She is probably mourning Han Solo (no, definitely mourning!), and perhaps Kylo’s fate is still tied to the First Order and Snoke, and whether she and Luke reunite is still up in the air, and it’s still a war after all these years in the Rebellion and now Resistance. She’s been part of the war, one or another, all her life. Darth Vader is her father. Her brother, more of a myth than a man now. Her son, her parents, Alderaan. That cannot not leave an imprint, and I’m glad to see that coming through.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that I actually started tearing up when I first saw this image. It’s so beautiful! Carrie looks simply stunning. To realize that this is her last role, and that she is the legacy of the 40 years history of Star Wars, and that she’s been Leia for 40 freaking years, since she was a teen to her last days, and been through so much in her life, yet fought and forged a path of her own, helping spread the word about mental health and making the world a little better place, having no shame in being herself despite the stigma and celebrity status, bashing haters with incredible wit and humour (hey, George Lucas got some too! So did the baboon hair she wore in TFA. I’m still not over her roasting the gas station attendant look xD), all of that and more is the inspiring tale of Carrie Frances Fisher.

While costumes are great, and great costumes are freaking fantastic, I really hope Leia has more than 2 minutes of screen time in The Last Jedi. Because that would be a crime to devote more time to robots and space ships than to the heart of Star Wars that characters and their stories are. What Leia Organa and her legacy are.

#the last jedi #vanity fair #tlj #star wars #annie leibovitz #ep VIII #my post #*#photoshoot #the force the dark side the resistance the legacy #pre ep VIII #episode 8 #carrie fisher #carrie fisher tribute

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