#we did feedback and i was the only person who cried and i cried twice LOL. once while giving feedback and once while receiving it. the

[pepprs]

retreat day 4 done. it’s been a really good day i think

[a3r3n]

Truth or Dare

Pairing: Jeno × girl!reader × Yeji

Genre: college!AU, angst, love triangle!AU

Word Count: 3k+

⚠️Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, college students getting drunk

A/N: this was originally a drabble, but I got carried away :/ Hope you like it though, and remember that feedback is always appreciated <33

«Alright, see you... never again, bitch,» you hear Yeji say as she closes the door after the last person finally leaves your apartment.

It's past two in the morning, you're exhausted, and chaos reigns supreme in both your living room and kitchen.

Not to mention you're totally wasted.

«What has poor Ryujin done to you?» Jeno asks her, his words immediately followed by a hiccup.

«We always call each other 'bitch',» Yeji explains, literally throwing her body on the couch. «Well, except for her,» she then adds, pointing at you. «She doesn't like to call us 'bitches'.»

«I just don't find it... cute,» you reply, trying to pour yourself a glass of water but failing miserably as all the liquid ends up on the floor. «Fuck!»

«No bad words in this household!» Jeno says, joining Yeji on the couch, but he accidentally sits on something wet and jumps back still. «Good Gracious!» he exclaims, making you laugh as you sit on the spot of the floor you've just cleaned up.

«'Good Gracious'? Is this the best you can do, church boy?» she teases him, receiving a grin in response.

«'Church boy'? You must have mistaken me for someone else, Yu- I mean, Yeji!»

«Did you just call me Yuna?» she cries with an overdramatic expression on her face, pretending to be hurt.

«Whatever,» he simply replies, collapsing on the only clean chair left.

Watching your two best friends being so wasted, you start to think you're probably not even that drunk. After all, whenever somebody throws a party, you always end up being the sober friend who has to look after the other two to prevent them from doing anything stupid. You got wasted a very few times in your life, but tonight you've given yourself a short break from being the responsible one, and you might have exaggerated a little.

Not as much as your friends, though. No one can beat them. Yeji has already thrown up twice, and Jeno can't even stand on his feet, and that's why you've suggested that he should sleep at your place. It wouldn't be the first time it happens anyway.

«Yo, I have an idea!» Jeno suddenly says after long minutes of silence.

«No, thank you,» Yeji replies, and you try to hold back a chuckle.

«But I haven't even said it yet!» he whines, looking at you both with puppy eyes.

«Fine, tell us!»

«Let's play a game!»

«What game?» you ask, hoping it doesn't involve walking, running, or moving at all.

«Truth or Dare!» he says euphorically, and you and Yeji exchange an amused look. «Come on!» he continues. «We haven't played it since high school!»

«That's because it's a game for high schoolers, Jeno,» you state.

«So what? It's still fun!»

Yeji sighs at his stubbornness but still decides to please him. «As you wish, Your Majesty,» she mocks him.

«You can't be serious,» you say, looking at her in disbelief.

«Come on! I promise I won't make you fake-confess to Haechan in the middle of the night!» Jeno insists, recalling one of the dares he'd made you do the last time you'd played that game.

«Alright,» you surrender. «But don't you dare make me drink, or I'll throw up on your Versace shirt!»

«Yo, I spent a fortune on this one!»

You chuckle and crawl to the coffee table, followed by an unsteady Jeno and Yeji, who doesn't look so happy to leave her comfortable spot on the couch to sit on the cold floor. The boy grabs one of the many bottles scattered on the table but then decides it's useless since it's only the three of you and throws it away.

«Alright, Your Majesty,» Yeji starts, «since you had this brilliant idea, you go first. Truth or dare?»

«Truth,» he immediately answers.

«Boo, no fun!» you exclaim, getting a gentle slap on your forearm.

After some minutes of thinking, she asks: «Do you have a crush at the moment?»

While you laugh at the question, Jeno seems pretty hesitant to answer it. Until that moment, you've never even thought of him having an actual crush because first of all, he sleeps around too often, and then, if he had a crush on someone, he would have definitely told you. Seeing him so uncertain, however, makes you gradually change your mind, and you become impatient and curious to know his answer. «We don't have all night!» you say.

«Alright, I do. I have a crush.»

«No way! Who is it?» you and Yeji ask simultaneously, but he immediately cuts you off. «That's two questions!»

He then turns to you. «Truth or dare?»

«Truth.»

«Boo, no fun!» Yeji shouts and bursts into the drunkest laugh you've ever heard.

«Mmh, let me think... how many people did you sleep with since you've started college?»

«I thought you already knew this,» you admit. «Four, by the way.»

He seems satisfied with your answer, and you turn to Yeji, who's slowly lying down on the floor, eyes half-closed and a sleepy look on her face. «Yeji, can you hear me?» you ask her, laughing, and she nods in response. «So, truth or dare?»

«Truth,» she mumbles.

«At this point, let's just play Truth or Truth,» Jeno says ironically.

«Do you think any of us is sober enough to do a dare unless it involves falling asleep?» Everyone laughs at Yeji's unexpected exclamation, then a question pops up on your mind. «Have you ever been disappointed by one of your sex partners?»

She pretends to think hard, but lets out a sarcastic chuckle. «Of course. They disappoint me all the time!» She then turns to Jeno again. «Do we know your crush... in person?» she asks, without even letting him choose between truth or dare. Not that he needed to anyway.

He sighs and doesn't make eye contact with either of you while answering with a simple nod. Some minutes of awkward silence go by, then he asks you: «Who was your best sex partner?»

At that question, Yeji starts laughing and clapping at the same time, saying that everyone on campus knew that.

«Yangyang, of course!» you answer. «He's full of stamina and has the thickest...»

«Alright, alright, I got it,» Jeno interrupts you, looking slightly uncomfortable, but you don't notice his bother, too focused on the question you want to ask Yeji.

«Yeji, truth or dare?»

«I thought we were playing Truth or Truth?»

«Fine: truth or truth?»

«Mmh... I think I'll choose truth!» she says and bursts into another laugh immediately after.

«Would you ever date a girl?» you ask her.

«Well... why not?» she doesn't hesitate to answer, shrugging. «Jeno, honey, was your crush at the party tonight?» she then asks the guy sitting in front of you, making him even more uncomfortable.

«Why are you so interested in my crush?»

«Just because. Answer me now!»

He sighs, looking at your drunk best friend and then at you. «Yes, she was.»

«Oh, it's a 'she' everyone!» Yeji shouts, trying to stand up but falling back down right away. You reach her to make sure she didn't get hurt, but she just laughs, saying that you worry too much.

«Do you wanna do one last round?» Jeno asks you both, and you agree. «Okay then... is it true that you and Jaemin are fucking buddies?» he asks you, and a heavy silence suddenly falls in the barely lit living room.

Jaemin is his best friend, and you thought he'd told him about the little fling you had during his last party. It was a one-time thing and nothing else, but rumors spread more than you expected, making up fake stories about you and exaggerating everything. You never thought you needed to clear that up to Jeno, though, since you supposed he already knew the truth.

«We're not fucking buddies. We've just slept together once.»

«When?»

«Hey, wasn't it just one question?» you try to joke, but he looks deadly serious.

«Just answer.»

«Well... before his New Year's Eve party. Why do you care, anyway? You know we both don't mind sleeping around.»

«You said you only had four sex partners...»

«So what? It's true!»

Meanwhile, Yeji stares at both of you with a confused look on her face, probably not even understanding the situation.

«No, it's not. You've slept with five people!» he insists.

«How would you even know that? I'm telling you, it's four: Haechan, Yeri, Yangyang and Jaemin!»

His eyes seem to get darker, and his lips become a thin line. He looks calm, but his stare is full of pain and bitterness. You think you've never seen him like this, and it scares you.

«What's the matter, Jeno?»

«So you really don't remember,» he whispers with a trembling voice, looking away.

«Remember what?» you ask him, exasperated.

«Yeah, remember what?» Yeji repeats, and you think she's just saying random things because of the effect of the alcohol in her body, but she looks weirdly sober instead.

«What actually happened during New Year's Eve party. Don't you remember?»

You shake your head, trying to find something among your memories, but your mind goes blank whenever you try to go back to the night of December 31st.

«The only thing I remember is that Yeji and I were the first ones to arrive at the party, and she left me alone with Jaemin to go flirt with his roommate. That's how we ended up having sex, but all of this happened before the actual party and before I got completely wasted,» you explain, slowly standing up.

«Why? Did something else happen?» Yeji asks, sounding slightly nervous as every rest of her previous laughs fades away.

«We slept together,» Jeno answers, keeping his cool while pointing at you.

His sudden statement makes your eyes pop out of your head, and you look at him, trying to find some signs of amusement on his face, in hopes that it's all a joke.

Unfortunately, he doesn't look amused at all.

«We-we didn't!» you stutter, and then chuckle awkwardly while nervously rubbing your hands, not knowing what else to say or to do.

You initially try to deny it, but since you can't remember anything from that night, Jeno could be right. After all, even you know you can become bold when you're drunk, and that's the main reason why you always try to stay sober. Well, apparently not always.

You turn to look at Yeji, whose eyes are now fixed on the floor. «We didn't sleep together!» is the only thing you manage to say.

«Yes, we did!» Jeno exclaims, standing up all of a sudden. «We were both drunk, we wanted to go back home but Yeji had disappeared with Renjun, so you asked me if you could sleep over at my place but instead of sleeping, we had sex!»

«This can't be true! I don't even remember it! Yeji,» you turn your head at your best friend, who can't even look at you in the eyes. «I don't remember anything, I swear! I was so drunk I probably thought he was Jaemin again!»

«I'm sure that's not what you were thinking, since I can clearly recall you moaning one name, and it was mine!» Jeno cries, and you can see the vein on his neck pulsing. «But you don't even remember it! You remember sleeping with Jaemin that evening, but you forgot about me!»

«Jeno, I was sober when I had sex with Jaemin, and I was drunk when I slept with you! Why are you getting mad at me if I can't remember it?»

«Because I can't fucking stop thinking about you since that night!» he shouts, and the atmosphere in the room becomes tenser and tenser. «I caught feelings, alright? I don't know why, I don't know how, but it happened! I've been having this crush on you for months now, and I even stopped sleeping around with other girls because the only one I can think about is you! I'm sorry I'm getting angry, but I hate the thought of you sleeping with other people, and it hurts that you don't even remember having sex with me!»

«Stop it now, Jeno. Please,» you whisper, on the verge of tears. «I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't remember what happened, and I'm sorry I... I don't feel the same towards you.»

«You slept with him.»

Your eyes land on your other friend, who's still staring at the floor. The look on her face is totally blank, and her voice is lacking any emotions.

«Apparently I did... but I was drunk, I wasn't even conscious!»

«You slept with him,» she mumbles again.

«Yeji, I get that you're angry now, but I swear I didn't do it on purpose! I can't even remember it, I...»

«You still slept with him!» she shouts, interrupting you. «You're supposed to be my best friend, but you fucked him anyway!» When she gets up so that your faces could be on the same level, you see tears and anger in her eyes.

«Yeji, why do you even care?» Jeno asks, a little bit annoyed. «Besides, it apparently meant nothing to her, so why...»

«She knew I like you,» Yeji confesses, not breaking that freezing eye contact with you.

«You... what?» he asks, shocked.

«I said she knew I like you, but she still didn't mind fucking you!»

«How many times do I have to tell you I didn't know what I was doing? If I had been lucid, I would have never slept with him!» you cry, and a couple of tears leave your eyes and draw a wet line on your cheeks. Your words seem to hurt Jeno, but once again you don't notice it, too focused on your other best friend.

No matter how much you care for him, Yeji will always come first for you, and the thought of hurting her is making your heart writhe in pain.

«Yeji, please, forgive me. You know I would never hurt you, I... I don't even like Jeno! I never did and never will!»

«Wow, you're hurting me now,» he interrupts you, making you turn to him. You notice he's also shed some tears. «But it's always been like this, after all, isn't it? I'd do anything for you, but your number one priority will always be Yeji! I wonder how come she hasn't noticed it by now.»

«Noticed what?» she asks, looking at him first, then turning her eyes to you.

You froze on the spot, unable to talk, only glaring at Jeno. You thought you'd been pretty good at hiding it, but apparently, someone still got it.

And that someone is your best friend, who also happens to have feelings for you.

«So it's true,» he states, as you keep being quiet and tense.

«What the fuck are you talking about now?!» Yeji shouts, waking you up from your sort of trance and making Jeno chuckle.

«It's nothing! He's just...»

«Nothing?» he interrupts you, still chuckling. «You're really saying your crush on your best friend is 'nothing'?»

Now, none of you is speaking. You look at Jeno with embittered eyes, unable to face Yeji at the moment. She lets her body fall on the couch, not caring if she ends up sitting on that wet spot, then covers her face with a pillow. Jeno's face goes from bitterness to worry, to guilt and regret, realizing what he's just done and that it's too late to fix it. «Look, I'm sorry...» he tries to say, but you stop him.

«Don't say anything, please.» Then, you find the courage to look at your other best friend, and you see her sobbing, face hidden by the pillow. «Yeji, please, say something,» you beg her, taking one step to get closer but stopping as she raises her head and looks at you with teary eyes.

«What should I say?» she whisper-asks with a broken voice. «I've just found out my best friend - whom I've been liking for years - slept with my other best friend and caught feelings for her! And now you're telling me you have a crush on me, even though you knew I could never reciprocate your feelings because I like him!» she cries. «I... I just wanna go to sleep,» she then adds, standing up and storming out of the living room without saying anything else.

«I better go home,» Jeno mumbles, grabbing his jacket.

«No, stay. It's late, and you're not in the conditions to drive.»

«No, really. I wouldn't wanna cause any other... troubles.»

«The situation can't get much worse, anyway. I'm going to sleep too now. You already know how the hide-a-bed works.»

He nods, and you look at him one more time before walking away and locking yourself in your bedroom.

The next morning, you wake up at the sound of someone laughing way too loudly. You rub your eyes a little too harshly and decide to lie for some more minutes on the bed before gathering enough energies to get up.

As soon as your bare feet touch the cold floor, however, your mind suddenly gets filled with images and words from last night. You sit back on the mattress, trying to make all those memories make sense, and when you're finally able to remember everything clearly, you wish you had been more drunk so that you could have forgotten it.

You hear someone laugh again and recognize your roommate's voice. There's someone with her too, and you recall telling Jeno to stay over. Although you don't really feel like facing them after all that happened, you decide you can't be locked in your room forever and get out.

While you're reaching the kitchen, you notice everything is clean and tidy, and you see your two best friends happily eating breakfast on the counter. «Good morning,» you mumble, yawning.

«Good morning, sleepyhead! It's almost midday!» Yeji exclaims, handing you a plate full of pancakes. «This will be both our breakfast and lunch today!»

«And that's why it's called brunch, Yeji,» Jeno says, making her chuckle, and you look at both of them in awe, wondering how they manage to be so calm and peaceful when you're still trying to recover from the rough night you had.

«Did you clean all that mess up?» you ask them, adding more maple syrup on your pancakes. Yeji was never generous with it.

«Yup, we did,» she replies, then gets back to her conversation with Jeno.

Even though they look relaxed and act as they've always done, you still feel anxious.

You need to know.

«Do you remember anything about last night?» you ask them, interrupting whatever they were talking about.

Jeno shakes his head. «No, we don't,» he answers. «We probably drank too much!»

«Are you sure, though?» you insist, surprised yet suspicious.

How could they both forget what happened? They didn't look too drunk the moment your innocent game turned into a heated argument. On the contrary, they seemed to be completely sober, or at least, sober enough to form complete sentences while they were talking. How could they not remember that?

«Do you really not remember anything? I mean, maybe you...»

«Honey,» Yeji interrupts you, looking at you with a sweet smile but deadly serious eyes. «We really don't remember. And you?»

Your eyes move from her face to Jeno's before looking back at her and taking a deep sigh. «No, I don't either,» you answer, and Yeji nods, handing you a cup of coffee.

«Whatever happened,» she says, «was probably nothing.»

✰❀Nct (all units) Masterlist❀✰

✰❀Itzy Masterlist❀✰

✰❀Main Masterlist ❀✰

©a3r3n All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works.

[thefrontofmymind]

That's Where You Loved Me II (Joseph Quinn x gn!Reader)

a/n: so i did write a part 2, and i'm going to write a part 3 now as well. as always, any feedback it greatly appreciated! kisses!

SYNOPSIS: Reader and Joe decide to meet for a drink, after all, they're both not clearly still in love with each other, right?

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, some yelling and arguing but nothing violent!

In just over a month, you’d managed to regain a somewhat well adjusted life after the rollercoaster that was your breakup with Joe. After moving out and staying with a friend for a while, you’d carried on and found yourself a new place. And it was better, closer to your work, in a bit of a nicer area, and you finally felt like you had some independence by yourself–you were stronger for it.

That’s not to say you didn’t still think of Joe from time to time–it was frankly impossible not to. He was the next biggest thing in pop culture and it seemed he appeared every way you turned, you could barely have a conversation with a coworker without them bringing up the fact that they’d binge watched the new season of Stranger Things over the weekend and ‘that new guy, Eddie, he’s really good, I almost cried when he died!’, and you’d abandoned wasting time scrolling through social media altogether–it just wasn’t as fun with every second video talking about ‘the English newcomer on the scene’ and speculation about his personal life. 

It was a precarious position you were in–it felt like a secret, that you were still hung up on a guy who apparently half the world deemed the new hottest thing. Occasionally you felt sorry for yourself, after a few glasses of wine you often thought about sending him a text saying you missed him, you should go for a coffee some time–even when it seemed like a bad idea, there was nothing your heart wanted more than to lay your eyes on him again, just to see if was the same between you. Though who didn’t think that when they were still in love with their ex-boyfriend?

It was late on Friday night–you weren’t exactly sure of the time as you were tucked up in bed about to go to sleep, still thinking of your new life in your new apartment and how much you’d changed in such a short time.

You weren’t sure if it was arrogance or cockiness, but somehow, without processing it, you’d typed a message to send to Joe, who’s contact was still in your phone–a mistake, you knew.

‘Hi Joe! Not sure if you still have my number saved or not but I finally finished your new show and was wondering if you wanted to catch up and get a drink? There’s that place in Soho we went to for your birthday that you loved that had those really strong martinis? x’

You kicked yourself as your brain went on autopilot and sent the message–what kind of person does that? Send a text like that to their ex after only two months of being broken up? And the kiss at the end? Stupid! You hurriedly closed your phone and placed it on your bedside table, mortified, when it chimed back at you twice.

‘I’ll call you in the morning’

‘x’

You barely slept a wink that night, how could you? You felt a little silly waiting like a sitting duck for Joseph’s call. You’d even checked your mobile plan to make sure he could call, and nothing would go wrong on your end. 

In all honesty, you didn’t have high hopes when it came to what Joe was going to say to you, but something about the excitement, the anticipation, the suspense of what could be.

There was a pang in your chest as you thought about the last time you were in this position, not too long ago. When you and Joe first met, he was only just beginning to make a name for himself–he’d been in a few projects and was a standout in almost every single one, but he wanted more. It inspired you to see him so passionate about his job, and it was exciting being able to attend all these fancy parties as his plus one–where you’d end up making a fool of yourself in front of some hotshot producer but it didn’t matter because Joe would just laugh when you’d tell him before pulling you into the nearest closet for some privacy.

The sound of your phone ringing jolted you back into reality. With palms sweaty and breathing uneven, you answered the phone after a couple rings.

“Hello?” You could hear wind blowing the microphone on the other end of the line–Joe was probably outside for his morning smoke, you thought. “You there?”

“Yep,” was all he said at first. “How are you going?”

You let out a sigh before you spoke–it all felt somewhat trivial, small talk and all. “I’m doing okay, sad about Eddie.”

Joe chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, ‘m a bit sad about that one too…”

You didn’t know what it was about Joe, but somehow the silence between the two of you never felt gauche–the pair of you would settle in the quiet like it was your natural state, and you could sit for hours together not saying a word but being right on the same page.

“Are you free tonight?” Joe said after a second of contemplation. “We could go to Duke’s, like you said. Have a chat?”

You tried to fight the smile on your face. You knew it wasn’t wise to see Joe–it hurt when you broke up. It felt like your world had been torn to shreds, your comfort was gone, you couldn’t function thinking Joe hated you.

“I just don’t understand what you mean!” Joe yelled, following you as you packed up your things in a rush. “When did I say I don’t want to spend any time with you?!”

You were emotional, and probably not thinking straight, but watching Joe stumble into your apartment well past midnight once again, still tipsy from whatever get-together a costar of his had held that night, pushed you over the edge. “You didn’t! But for an actor you’re not good at hiding your feelings! When was the last time we went out somewhere together? Christmas? Six months ago?” You rambled, putting a final handful of clothes in the overnight bag you were dragging around. 

“Is that really what this is about? I’m ‘neglecting’ you? Well unfortunately some of us are trying to work hard in a career that isn’t very welcoming, so I’m sorry if I seem to be putting in some hard work I can be proud of!” Joe’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, and he slurred a little, still.

“I’m staying with a girl from work for a couple days, until you decide to grow up and take this relationship seriously.” And with that you walked out of the apartment, slamming the front door louder than you probably should have at that time of night.

Soon enough, neither of you felt the urge to call and apologise, a few days away turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you were telling your distant relatives that ‘no, you weren’t seeing anyone’ when they asked at family parties. It happened without you even realising it.

“Meet me at eight out the front, and wear that blue blazer you wore to the Catherine the Great premiere, remember?” you said. You always thought he looked good in blue.

“Yes, drill sergeant!” he joked, before you both said goodbye and hung up on the quick conversation.

You didn’t want to jinx anything, but it felt good to call Joe again, and you’d most certainly hoped the feeling would persist as you saw him standing out the front of the upscale bar, scrolling on his phone with a half-smoked cigarette in his hand–he wore the blazer.

He looked better than the last time you’d seen him, whatever he was doing was agreeing with him, whether it be the travel or the success. His face looked a little rounder than the month prior, and his hair was starting to grow a touch longer than you knew he liked it, though you always preferred when he let his curls start to get unruly, and his favourite pair of sunglasses were perched atop his head–why? You weren’t sure since he was squinting, trying to fight the bright rays from the sunset.

“How are you?” he said, slipping his phone into his pants pocket and pulling you in for a brief hug, where you couldn’t help but inhale the scent of the aftershave you’d bought him for Christmas the year before. And if your eyes didn’t deceive you, he took his time looking you up and down with a glazed-over look you’d seen before, a look mostly reserved for when the pair of you would go out somewhere and the night would quickly become a race to see who could get the other riled up first–you missed his playfulness, as well as his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the establishment and onto a stool at the bar.

You both ordered, going over pleasantries–him asking how your work was going, you asking if his family was well. It wasn’t until your drinks arrived that you’d finally moved onto his work. 

“It was truly amazing, Joe, seriously.” You tried your hardest to look into Joe’s eyes as you were being sincere, though he was making it difficult by looking only to the ground to hide the blush growing up his neck. “Even better than what you told me about it! Eddie is a cultural icon now!”

“You’re too kind, love,” he said, taking a sip and swallowing before continuing. “Was that all you wanted to really talk about? My work?”

It was now time for the inevitable, you thought. Admittedly, you still weren’t one hundred percent sure why you did text Joe to begin with–perhaps a wicked cocktail of self pity, loneliness, and introverted behaviour wanted you to reconnect with seemingly one of the only people in your life who truly understood you, at least for a while.

All your memories together were constantly swirling in your head, the good and bad, and maybe you thought seeing him in a low-pressure environment would remedy that. Because the more and more you mulled it over, you just wanted Joe back in your life, you were tired of missing his voice and his smile, not to mention his cooking.

You hesitated on answering for a moment. “Partially.” You declared. “Wanted to see you as well…missed talking to you.”

It pervaded you as to what omnipresent force made you immediately spill your guts to Joe, but that was the way it always went–you couldn’t think of one gift you’d given him that he didn’t manage to get you to spoil for him during the week leading up to whatever occasion called for it, and any and every piece of gossip you knew–regardless of whether he knew the subject or not–was common knowledge shared between the two of you. It periodically made you feel contemptible, though you figured since Joe was part of you in a sense, it didn’t matter anyway.

You knew you should’ve been wary, you felt so desperate and clingy–part of the reason you broke up was those very qualities, why did you have to bring it all back up again? You cursed yourself in your head.

“It’s been weird not seeing you,” Joe admitted. “Feel like I’ve got FOMO or something…”

He could always find a way to make you chuckle. Soon enough, the conversation began flowing smoothly–almost like you were old friends catching up, which in a way, you supposed you were. Sooner or later, you’d both finished your martinis and were begging the bartender in the nicely pressed, white jacket to make you another round, which he refused, stating bar policy was only one martini per patron because they were so strong.

You were sceptical on the apparent five shots of alcohol in the drink–it had barely gone to your head, at least until you remembered the bottle of vodka sitting in your freezer.

“D’you wanna just go back to mine? ‘ve got all that bartending stuff, still so we can just make our own drinks?” you were quite certain your voice was even and steady, and that it was just Joe who was beginning to sway in his seat, though something told you in the back of your mind as you subconsciously placed a hand on his, the buzz was just starting to reach you.

Joe intertwined his fingers with yours and jumped up from his seat. “To yours it is.”

[kirencer]

Since I’m evil I’m sending angst!

“If you want to leave then leave! I’m not going to stop you!”

(i cried while writing this because i’m a lil BABY. also ty for the request,,, it’s the only one i’ve gotten 🥲)

CW: mentions of divorce, definitely Spencer’s past abandonment issues flaring up, relationship issues, happy ending 🥰

wc: 951

It’s freezing when I walk towards the living room. It’s felt like this for weeks. Spencer doesn’t speak to me as often.

He’s effectively given me the cold shoulder, and I’m freezing.

So much that I need warmth or a shoulder that won’t be barred away like a treat just out of reach. If I can’t get that from Spencer, then I’ll take a break.

Penelope would love a sleepover.

I stand by the couch, a bag slung over my shoulder, and my hand tracing over a dent on the coffee table.

Spencer had missed work that day for me. We were cuddling on the couch, kissing, when he got a work call. The sound scared me so bad I fell back and got a concussion. Spencer told his boss that he’d quit before he ever left me at home hurt, and then took me to the hospital to make sure I was fine.

Heat bubbles by my eyes as I feel the tears melt through the stoic expression I had tried to have. They slide down my face soundlessly. Any sobs I could have produced were silenced by the lump in my throat.

What had happened to us?

There used to be so much love and laughter. Spencer never used to fail at making me happy. He would try everyday to make me fall in love with him again and I would try the same. We would both succeed, day after day, week after week.

When did he stop trying? Because I know that I haven’t yet given up. When did Spencer decide that paperwork was softer than my embrace and when did he start to ice me out?

He’d never made me feel so cold before. His love always warmed me up like an eternal flame. Every time we locked eyes I would be doused in gasoline and set aflame with the most wondrous kinds of love.

It couldn’t be the end of the honeymoon phase, Spencer had told me before we even started dating that he believed every day would be a honeymoon with the right person.

But who would honeymoon in Antarctica?

Am I not the right person?

I hear Spencer's footsteps behind me and I wipe away my tears with my palms, sniffing deeply as I stand up.

Spencers seen me cry plenty of times, he’ll know that’s what I’ve been doing.

Good.

In a sick way I want him to see how much he’s hurt me.

“I’m going to Pen’s for a couple days,” I say. I’m surprised I could even talk.

“You’re running away?” Spencer’s voice breaks on the the last syllable, and I think it breaks with my heart.

I struggle with what to say. I’m not running away but, If i’m being honest, I am. I’m running away because I don’t know what else to do. “Why not? You haven’t spoken to me in weeks!”

“If you want to leave then leave! I’m not going to stop you!” Spencer jolts back. I can't stop the way the tears spring back again.

I was getting tired of the cold but this, this is far worse. It’s the warmth and the heat of our love turned to the max and I’m melting under the burn of it.

“You think I want to leave? I’d give anything to stay, Spencer. What I want is you to be home at night. What I want is to know if you even love me anymore … if you even want me anymore.”

Spencer opens his mouth and closes it again. His face crumples like the paper plates I had eaten on all those days he wasn’t home and I didn’t feel like cooking because of it.

“Men are nearly twice as likely to develop a major depression after divorce,” Spencer stares at his mixed matched socks and I don’t know what to say to him. A tear stains his lighter sock into a dark gray. His voice is small and he sounds like he hasn’t slept well lately, “Please don’t leave me.”

I walk towards him and I wrap my arms around him. He buries his head into my neck and I can feel tears drip against my skin, and a soft hiccup as Spencer grips my shirt as if I’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I don’t know what to do, Spencer.”

“Stay.” He asks, more than says. “I’m so sorry. I’ve hurt you and I’ve made you want to leave, I promise I’ll be here more.”

“I don’t want promises, Spence, I want you.” Spencer's tears cool down the fire and his hold keeps me from freezing.

“You have me. You always will,” Spencer presses a kiss to my shoulder, “Even though we’re not married, a uh, ‘divorce’ would kill me. I’ve lost a lot in my life, but for you to leave would be it. I — I know it’s wrong to tell you this because then if you ever want to leave you feel like you have to stay but you deserve to know I care.”

My hand rubs against his back. Spencer is breathing softer, and so am I. My hastily made bag is dropped to the floor, forgotten in all but the fact that it’s on my toes.

“I love you. Even if you leave now, I’ll still love you.”

“Good thing I’m not leaving. I don’t want to, and you lied when you said you wouldn’t stop me so…” I pull away a bit to look at his face. He’s a bit tear stained, and his eyes are rimmed with red, but he’s here and he wants me.

I press my salty lips to his. The kiss is melting.

It’s warm.

(the event isn’t over yet for a while!! be sure to follow and send in a request. maybe even send some feedback!! it’s a lil late tho so i won’t get to any until tomorrow :]]])

(ps. would anyone want me to start a taglist? i might but i’m not sure)

[forever-rogue]

In Name Only - Part 1

A/N: Ughhh, hi! I’m a whore for Oberyn Martell and cannot be stopped. This is gonna be a little series, only a few parts (at least for now), and I hope you enjoy. This was one of my many shower ideas that I couldn’t let go!  As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know! xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: slight language

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I will not marry a man that does not love me,” you cursed the gods for making you a woman. You cursed your mother for being the way she was though it was not her fault that you were her only daughter among six sons. You cursed the laws of men that determined your position in life, “I will not be tied down to man who does not care about me, to a castle that will never be a home, and bear children I do not want.”

“You are an insolent, silly girl,” she hissed at you, and for a moment you feared that she might reached and strike you across the face. She had been prone to doing so when you were younger, but in her older years she had calmed down, softening with the birth of each child after you, each son, each brother you loathed for how easy their lives were, “you should have been married many moons ago.”

“I will not marry a man almost twice my age that openly keeps a lover and already has plenty of children,” a fiery rage set through your bones, one that would probably be perfectly suited in the warm, desert homeland of the husband she insisted you take. In the Reach, your attitude was abhorred, and you were considered the lone deviant of your family, “I will not give up my freedoms because you deem it fit for me to do so.”

“You will marry him and bear him an heir,” she grabbed your hair and roughly yanked it and leaned in so only you could hear, “you are lucky any man will have you. You’re much too old to be unwed and your demeanor makes you almost unbearable.”

“I will not do it,” you gritted your teeth and tried to pull out of grasp, “I will not subject myself to a life of servitude-”

“When I was your age I’d already been long married to your father and had you and two of your brothers,” she reminded, pushing you away with a heavy sigh, “do you think I wanted to get married? I was no more than a child, and you at least are a woman grown. I could have married you off years ago, as I should have. You would have been out of my sight and perhaps tamed.”

“I refuse. I will not bend and break to your whim,” turning away you started to storm off, hoping that some fresh air would calm you down. Perhaps you could ride your horse through the open pastures and fields surrounding the castle.

“And just what do you plan on doing then? Will you wander through the kingdoms on your own, travelling without anything or anyone like a heathen?”

“Perhaps I will,” you shrugged, “it would be better than doing what you ask of me. If you loved me-”

“If you do not marry him, you will be cut off from this family,” her words were enough to cause you turn around and listen to her, “you will lose your name, your worldly possessions, and you will be penniless. Is that really what you desire?”

“All of this because I do not want to take a husband?”

“It is your duty. As it has been the duty of every woman before you.”

“Fuck duty!” your voiced reverberated around the castle’s stone walls as she stared you down, “I will not marry someone I do not love. Father would never make me do so.”

“And your father is dead,” she reminded you with venom lacing her tone, “and what do you even know about love? It is a fiction created to keep little girls happy.”

“I loved him,” your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest as you thought of him. Your mother scoffed and dramatically rolled her eyes at you, “I loved him and you sent him away to certain death because you are a monster.”

“That horrid boy? He was a bastard,” she reminded you of the cruel little thing that kept you apart. How you rued the term of bastard; it did not mean anything, it did not determine a person’s character or heart, “he was never good enough for you. And you defiled yourself for him.”

“Because I loved him!” you insisted, “and he loved me! We would have been happy together, we could have built a life together...”

“He was a peasant, he tended stables-”

“That does not matter to me,” you reminded her, “he was kind and gentle and warm. I would have loved to have a life of tending stables if meant I was with him. Because I loved him!”

“You were lost in your girlhood fantasies of what you think love is,” she was cruel, each of her words twisting like a knife in your gut, “he was the first boy to show you attention and you fell for his little trap, and it has left you ruined for other men. You are lucky that Oberyn Martell does not know and he will not care, the one benefit of having a Dornish heathen for a husband.”

“I did love him, mother,” you tried hard to fight off the flood of tears that were pricked the back of your eyes, “and just because you can’t handle that you sent him to the Wall where he will live out his days and die. I never even got to say goodbye.”

“He was a bastard, it did not matter.”

“He was a good man,” your voice broke slightly as you tried to square your shoulders and stare her down, “his only fault in life was loving me. It’s gotten him the most cruel of fates.”

“I have had enough of you,” she steeled herself and strode past you, regal and noble in appearance as ever, “in two weeks time you will travel to Dorne and you will marry Oberyn Martell. You will either oblige and do it, as is your duty or you be expelled from this castle and can live out your days among the bastards that you love so much. It is your choice, whether you bring shame to this family or you disappear into the background as a woman should and become a dutiful wife.”

“Those are both horrible, vile options.”

“That is duty of being born a woman.”

“I wish I was born a man then,” you turned on your heel to walk away, wishing you were stronger, wishing you weren’t on the verge of tears, “maybe then I would not subjected to such a cruel fate, and I wouldn’t let any woman in my care suffer the same.”

“Aren’t you just the martyr,” she mocked you with such a ferocity that you wanted to give her a good whack across her own smug face, “you think you know so much, you know nothing.”

“I know what it means to be a good person, or at least to try,” it was days like that you longed for your father. He had been a kindhearted, generous man, one who did not believe in the stereotypes that divided men and women. He was the reason you had remained unwed for many years, far past the age of anyone of noble blood. He encouraged your wildness, your open heart and free spirit. Your mother had always been the exact opposite. You always wondered how they seemingly got along so well, but you’d come to understand that it was no more than an illusion. The only love they shared was that of their children, and sometimes you wondered how deep that truly ran.

“Enough,” her tone held the cruel finality, the singular word was as sharp as a dagger as she stood in the doorway, the soft light filtering in behind her. She was a handsome woman, and if you hadn’t known better, she appeared almost angelic. But you knew better, much better; she was no more a saint than you were a sinner. You remained steadfast in your spot, trying to channel the ferocity that your father always embodied, “in two weeks time you will travel to Sunspear and you will marry the prince.”

“I would rather die.”

“If you choose your own grave so be it,” she slammed the door to her quarters shut, letting the sound ring through the hall. You had flinched at the noise, but now it only served to anger you. Your whole life, the little joys it still afforded you would be taken away soon, all because of a name. All because you were a woman. 

They often called occasions such as these little deaths, but you had a feeling that it would be a lot more than a little pain to make yourself subservient to a husband you did not want.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The journey from the lush green lands of Honeyholt and surrounding lands into the dry, red deserts of Dorne had been...miserable. While you would have relished traveling and seeing the new lands under any other circumstance, you experienced no moments of tranquility or peace. The landscapes meshed into one and the only thing signaling that you were entered the land of the Dornish was the stifling heat. The Reach was temperate, never an extreme in either direction, but Sunspear provided its first test through the scorching heat of the golden sun. 

It would take some getting used to but you could understand why the symbol of the house you would soon be joining was a blazing sun. It never seemed to fade, casting its golden light across every inch of the land. The people that you spied in villages and smaller cities as you approached Sunspear looked as if they didn’t mind; perhaps only a lifetime of heat would allow you to get used to it. 

Their curious glances were always trained on you, and your small retinue that would depart as soon as you arrived safely. You were an outsider from a strange land that the Dornish were reluctant to trust; it wasn’t common fro one of Northern breeding to step this far south. Not that you had much of a choice in the matter; you hadn’t thrown a fit, or cried, or screamed, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you so upset. Instead you had remained silent, speaking only a few words here and there as necessary, your true self hidden behind a thick veneer of steel. Maybe your true self would be hidden forever, dying a little bit day by day as you waited patiently for your death. 

There would be no ceremony, no pomp, and most definitely no circumstance when you arrived to your new home and to meet the man who would shortly become your husband. You would be all but abandoned in the palace where you knew no one, trying to fend for yourself. It had been at your mother’s request and you knew exactly why she would treat you in such a manner; each of your brothers, all but the two youngest had been married off already, in a show of great festivities and celebration. You were all but kicked under the carpet, a smudge on the family name that she wished to forget. 

Your mother harbored no love for the Dornish, whom she considered savages and uncultured; she must have been desperate to finally see you off if she agreed to a marriage proposal from the Martells. You wondered why they had even asked for you; there were plenty of other families in Dorne that could have produced a worthy daughter, or other Northern families that might have agreed. Perhaps they too realized that it would difficult to marry off a prince nearing middle age that housed a paramour and bragged about his bastard daughters. It did not phase you, or bother you in the slightest; you were pleased rather that they seemed to enjoy life to such a degree. But perhaps even the Martells were smart enough to know that they would need heirs, legitimate ones, to recognized by the Northern countries and carry on their name. 

When you arrived at the palace in Sunspear, your jaw dropped slightly in surprise - it was a stunning beauty, a feat of architecture that you were loathe to find anywhere else in the seven kingdoms. It presented a sharp contrast to the home you had known your entire life; there was no bleak grays or beiges that met your eyes, instead colorful, brilliant shades of warm crimsons, oranges, tans, and bronzes met your eyes. it was warm and welcoming, despite the reason for your arrival. If this was to be your home for the remainder of your days, at least it was beautiful. 

Your carriage came to a harsh stop and you almost slid off your seat at the sudden force. You groaned lightly as you straightened yourself, looking down at the green dress you were sporting and already wishing you had something cooler to wear. If you had been granted your way, you’d be dressed the same as the men that could spy all around the palace, sporting a pair of trousers and a loose tunic. Your father had never cared what you wore, but the day your mother found out that you had been running around like a boy, she had made you wear only the finest dresses. You’d still sneak off in trousers whenever presented with the opportunity, a small thrill running through your veins, knowing that you were directly defying your mother.

The small door was opened and you stepped out, letting your feet hit the warm the sand. You wiggled your feet about, trying to get a feel for it, bending over and picking up a handful of the small grains. It was a dark bronze color, different than the seasides of the Reach, and softer. You liked it, you immediately decided, it was much more comforting than stone and hard soil. 

“Knock it off and put it back,” internally rolling your eyes at the septa you swore you were much too old to still have you, you let the sand trickle out of your hand and back onto the ground, “you’re acting like a child. You must behave and act like a proper woman.”

Sighing lightly, you remained wordless, not wanting to start an argument in the middle of your new home before you’d even made a proper entrance. The few items you’d brought from Honeyholt with you were quickly unloaded and brought into the palace. You hadn’t desired to bring much; you wanted a fresh start, a new one that you could call all your own, even if you weren’t here by choice. It felt like you could hang on to a little bit of autonomy that way. 

Your most prized possession hung around your neck: a delicate golden chain that contained a small rose colored gem. It had been given to you by your father on your fourteenth nameday; he’d presented it to you with such joy and excitement, having it made just for you. He had claimed that the rose gem symbolized love and that you would always know how much he loved and adored you whenever you wore it. You hadn’t taken it off since his untimely demise; a small consolation for not having him around anymore. 

You’d been so lost in your own thoughts, of your father, of your new life, that you hadn’t seen realized you’d stepped foot inside, until a pair of arms wrapped around you. Your body tensed in defense as you came back to reality and saw a young, dark haired girl grinning at you. She was beautiful, clearly of Dorne with her sunkissed skin and dark features, and animated smile. She was dressed in silks of gold and orange, much like the house she served. Appearing to be only a few years younger than yourself, she had a warm aura about her; it was the most kindness you’d experienced in some time. 

“I’m Asha,” she had taken a step back when noticed your hesitation and held her hand out instead. You gave her the best smile you could as you gingerly shook her hand, still wanting to tread lightly as you gave her your name, “I’m your handmaiden. I’ll be helping you with whatever you need.”

“Handmaiden?” surely this must be a joke. Back in Honeyholt you’d had maids and servants, surely, but never one that served you in such a personal manner. Perhaps this was one of the perks of marrying a prince, even if he was one by name only, “I’m quite sure that I can handle myself...I’m sorry, forgive me, I do not mean to be rude. I’ve just never had someone...”

“It’s quite alright,” she insisted, taking your hand and pulling you further into the palace. You tried to get a good look at everything, but there was so much going on all at once that it was hard to keep track of everything, “I’ll be here for whatever you need and should you decide you do not need me at all, then I will remain as your friend, if it pleases you.”

“Friend?” that was the last thing you expected. It something you both had and hadn’t thought much about in the past few weeks. You’d had friends in Honeyholt, less and less the older you became, when they turned into mere acquaintances, tending to the families they were growing, but you’d resigned yourself to a life of solitude in Dorne. You weren’t sure what to expect here; you didn’t think the people would be so welcoming for the stranger that came to marry their favorite prince. 

“Yes,” she gave you a dazzling grin, “like I said, if it pleases you. The prince wants to make sure you feel at home and that you’re comfortable.”

“He does?” you’d been there for such a short time, but already you’d experienced more twists and turns than you had expected.

“Of course,” she pulled you up a flight of marbled stairs and down a long hallway, stopping before a grand set of doors. They were beautiful, made of aged wood and intricately carved. You couldn’t stop yourself as you reached up and touched the carvings, letting your fingers glide over them, “ he’s traveled all over the seven kingdoms, the Summer Isles, Essos...so many different places. He understands better than anyone what it is like to be in a new, and often unwelcoming land. He wants you to know that this is your home too. The prince is very happy to have you here and finally meet you.”

“Huh,” you turned to her, searching her eyes for any signs of deception, but you found none. Her dark eyes were wide with excitement as she opened the door and revealed the beautiful interior of your personal quarters. It was a beautiful sight to behold, colorful furniture was strewn about, a large, soft bed with golden cloth over it, and open doors leading to a balcony that housed many plants. A soft breeze ruffled the curtains and rustled the leaves. This space, in the few moments you’d stared at it, felt more like a home than anything you had experienced.

“His quarters are on the opposite end of the hallway,” she explained and nudged her in the direction. Separate quarters, you thought to yourself, how strange, “he wanted to make sure you liked everything. If you’re unhappy with it or require anything else, just say the word and you will have it.”

“It’s beautiful,” you admitted, stepping into the space and taking a closer at everything, “Dorne is beautiful...I had not expected this much beauty in the desert lands. The way the Northern lords make it sound...it should be horrid and ugly. But it’s lovely.”

“There is so much in Dorne that they will never tell you about because they will not allow themselves to see the beauty in front of them. We know they see us as savages and heathens, we know what they say, but we are not as they claim. We are different, surely, but does not make us bad people simply because we do not share the same views and beliefs?” she asked as she started to drag in some of the small trunks containing your items. You shook your head with a small smile; no, surely it did not make them any less human. They were already a warmer people than any of the northerners you’d encountered.

Standing up and helping her, she looked at with you with a curious glance. You just carried on, not wanting to let her do all of the work; why should you?

“I can handle it, my lady,” she insisted, but you refused to back down. You repeated your name and insisted that she call you that, “even if you are to be the princess?”

“I take no joy or pride in hollow titles or unnecessary formalities,” you promised her, “you and I are not different are we? We’re both women, subject to the harsh reality of what that entails and the laws of the gods and men. I insist, please, that you call me by my given name. And I am more than capable of helping to unpack my own items. You musn’t do it all alone.

Asha gave you a big grin as she nodded, surprised by your genial approach. Those she had met from the lands north of Dorne would never dare to renounce a title so freely, or speak so candidly with her. But you did; Oberyn would like you, she thought to herself, “as you wish...I think you will like Dorne, it will suit you well. We do not believe that men hold any superior power over women, nor do we believe that women should be reduced to standing behind a man. Everyone is equal here, just as the gods willed it.”

“And yet here I am, to be married to a man I do not know and that does know me and give him an heir,” there was a slight tone of bitterness to your voice that you hadn’t quite intended. You sighed and shook your head in apology, knowing she had nothing to do with your fortune, “I’m sorry...I should not have lashed out at you.”

“It’s quite alright,” she insisted, “I know how it seems is harsh, but I assure you that not everything is as it seems. It must be shocking to come to a new home and be surrounded by only strangers, but I think you will be just fine; if nothing else you will provide a good wit to match Prince Doran.”

“Prince Doran?” you asked as she nodded, “and he is...”

“I dare they must have kept you quite in the dark about all of this,” you nodded as you allowed yourself to sit on the soft bed, testing it out and finding it just as soft as you liked, “Prince Doran is the ruler of Dorne, his oldest daughter Princess Arianne is his heir and Oberyn is his brother.” 

“Oh,” you felt silly, and a bit dumb not being privy to any of this information before. It didn’t surprise you though; your mother did not care for the Martells and it was unlikely that she knew much of this information herself, “I apologize for not being as well versed in your land and people as I should be.”

“There is no need,” she laid out some of your dresses, placing them in the closet that stood against the wall, “one thing you will need to learn is that in Dorne we do not apologize. There is no reason to ever apologize for one’s true self, right? You were not to know this information, so how should you have known? You will learn in time. It is your home now and we are your people.”

“How is that I already feel so much warmer and lighter here than I have in years in my own home, the place I was birthed?” you let out a small laugh in spite of yourself and stood back up, spying some fine silks draped over the chair that was placed in front of the small writing desk, “what are these?”

“Silks,” Asha watched your face turn into a small smile as you touched the delicate fabrics and studied the colors, “they’re a gift from -”

“The prince,” you finished for her and she just nodded with a smile.

“He had a feeling that you wouldn’t be well prepared for the heat and wanted to provide you with something more suitable,” you lifted a few pieces up, holding them against your body. They were lovely, designed and crafted with care and expert stitching, “he asked about your coloring to make sure they’d suit you. And of course, some of the Martell gold and orange had to be included.”

“They are wonderful...absolutely beautiful,” a small sense of satisfaction worked its way into your bones as you realized that your mother would absolutely abhor the clothing, declaring crude and too revealing. But you loved the pieces, knowing they’d be perfect for the hot afternoons and warm evenings you’d come to expect, “this prince...he’s very kind.”

“He can...rough around the edges, but underneath the exterior he presents, he is a most kind and gentle man. His people love him and he loves them as well,” she answered, and you could easily sense the admiration she had for him. Maybe...just maybe, if this prince proved to be as fair and just as Asha made him out to be, things wouldn’t be a complete nightmare, “he wanted to be here to greet you, but unfortunately his duties have kept him away a bit longer than he intended. He will be back in time for your wedding.”

Wedding. Of course. You had somehow forgotten that little detail; this was just some sort of vacation or leisure trip. This was a whole new life you were walking into.

“Oh,” you tried to hide the nervous lilt of voice, but Asha picked up on it anyway. For someone so young, she was very attuned to your emotions. She stood next to you and slowly, as if testing the waters, put an arm around your shoulders. This time, you let her. You let her pull you into  a hug and hold onto you tightly as you let your body relax into the comfort of her own. You were almost like clay, melting into her arms; it had been so long since you had experienced the touch of another. She smelled of fresh citrus and spices, a scent you already found comforting, “thank you, Asha. You have been more kind than I could have ever anticipated. It is not lost on me...I should be proud to consider you a friend.”

“And I you,” she insisted, you were quickly interrupted by a loud throat clear from the entrance to your new space. Your oldest brother, now the Lord of Honeyholt in your father’s absence, was standing there, an impatient look on his face. Asha pulled back and bowed her head in reverence, “my lord.”

“Come and make sure your goodbyes, sister,” he completely ignored Asha and turned his cold gaze to yours. Never having been close with any of your brothers, besides the youngest, you harbored no strong feelings for him. He was a fine man, a decent lord, but nothing compared to your father. The halls of Honeyholt were never the same since he sat at the head of the table, “we must leave soon to make it back before our visitors from the Crownlands come.”

“You just mean to leave me here,” it was not a question, but a cold statement of fact, “you do not intend to stay and watch me marry? It is only a short time away.”

“We do not have time,” he insisted already starting to walk away, “besides, what is there to celebrate? You’re married off far too late to...a Martell. Hardly calls for celebration.”

“Goodbye brother,” you called after him, not even bothering to follow and bid anyone else a farewell and a safe journey back, “if that is the way you feel, to leave your only sister thus, then so be it. I wish you, nor our brothers, nor mother any ill will, but I cannot say I will be amiss of any of you.”

“Watch your tongue,” he growled at you from the foot of the stairs, “you are lucky to be my sister or I would have you thrown out long ago. You taint our name and have no respect for decency. You’re just like father; weak and a fool. Always thinking without your brain.”

“So with my heart?” you spat at him, “how dare you take father’s name in vain! He’s more of a man, father, and lord than you will be ever be.”

“And look where that got him,” he reminded you of the harsh reality that your favorite person, the one that you had idolized growing up, was gone, “an early grave.”

“He was ill-”

“It does matter. I am lord now and you will obey me,” he shook his head, “you know, mother was smart to finally marry you off. At least you will be able to take the name of Martell and will stop bringing shame to ours. You are no sister of mine, you can join these...barbarians, become one of them,”

“If I see you again, it will be on your deathbed,” you insisted, feeling a tears of sheer anger roll down your cheeks, as your body trembled with frustration, “I guarantee it. You are no brother of mine.”

He glowered at you before turning around and storming off, his robes trailing behind him. You’d never shared a great appreciation or love for him, but this was a harsh blow nonetheless. Your family, the only one you’d ever know was so content to just cart you off. You wondered how long he had waited for this day - but it didn’t matter. Just like that you had no more home in Honeyholt. Sunspear, and Dorne, was your home now. Even if it was a life you did not desire, at least it would be your own. 

“I’m sorry,” Asha appeared at your side, a concerned expression on her face at the heated exchanged. You choked back the few sobs that threatened to bubble up in your throat. You’d essentially just lost the little bit of family you had, “I did not expect such a response. Family means much to Dornishmen, sweet dove. You will never have to feel alone or unloved here.”

“Thank you,” you gave her a small smile, “I hope my family does not dishonor Prince Doran. I have not even meet the man who is to be my brother and already I bring chaos.”

“Prince Doran would never hold the actions of them against you,” she promised, “he shall be glad to meet you and welcome you into his family. As will we all. I can show you around the palace, if you so desire, and the water gardens. They’re most beautiful, especially during the peak of heat, such as this.”

“Will I meet Prince Doran today?” you were curious about meeting your new family, albeit the tiniest bit hopeful. It could be no worse than what you had just experienced. 

“I’m afraid both princes will not return until tomorrow,” she explained, “however, they are preparing a feast in your honor for this evening. The Princess is here, and I am sure she will be delighted to meet you. She’s a brilliant combination of her father and uncle, and will surely revel in your company, she grows bored of monotony.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dinner had been an...interesting affair. You’d gotten to meet the princess, her mother, and many other members of the household and those who worked for and were dear to the Martells - to your family. It was a shocking contrast to the normally reserved and quiet meals that were had in the dreary dining hall of your former home. 

The large tables in the garden were laden with delicious foods from all of Dorne, including the famed Dornish wine and everyone sat together, it did not matter their rank, station, or title. They were happy, kind, and jovial, welcoming you with open arms to Sunspear and their family. It was a warmth you had not known before, but not unwelcome. It was a sight to see everyone so happy, joking and laughing, teasing each other until late into the night; they had no reservations, no fears, no inhibitions. And you loved that about them immediately. 

Your heart had almost stopped when the princess had presented you with a beautiful golden bracelet, containing the Martell sun entwined with the little dove of your own house. She had gently clasped it around your wrist, before kissing your cheeks gently. You would think of her, her generosity and warmth whenever you wore it. 

But even the excitement and relief that the evening had provided was not enough to stave off the tears that found you late in the evening as you sat on the balcony connected to your quarters. You’d been studying the starry night sky, admiring how it glittered over the red dunes of the desert, when you were hit with a wave of sadness that you couldn’t ward of. A few hot, warm, salty tears dripped down your cheeks as you slowly repeated the names of the constellations you could see, stopping only when a small knock came at your door. 

You dabbed at your eyes and turned around to see who the visitor was, but Arianne slowly let herself in. You gave her a small smile and she joined you on the balcony, without a word, but a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I am sorry that you must see me in such a state,” you apologized but she shook her head. She was about to open her mouth, but you stopped her with a small smile, already knowing what she was going to say, “do not apologize for being your true self.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a small laugh, rich and musical, “see you’re learning already - you’ll fit in perfectly.”

You remained silent for a moment and let out a long sigh.

“What plagues you so?” she asked gently, “besides the loss of your family?”

“Today has proven it is no real loss,” you admitted, “I am...I do not know if I can do this.”

“Marry my uncle?”

“Yes,” you said quietly, “I vowed to myself that I would never marry someone I did not love, and I know this sounds silly, but my father, before his death, always promised me that he would never send me off to do so unless I desired it. And now...”

“It is not easy.”

“No,” you sighed, a fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, “I cannot bring myself to love someone just because I am required to, nor have a desire to be treated as a sow to be used for heirs. I do not know if I can do this, to myself or your uncle.”

“I realize this is very little consolation, but I do think I might know how you to help, if only a small bit,” she had your attention and you gave her a curious glance, “think of it as a marriage only in name.”

“Only in name?”

“Precisely,” she explained, “you will marry Oberyn, and that will the end of it. You do not owe him an heir and he would never expect one from you. He has eight daughters already, some nearing your age, and he loves them dearly. They keep him busy and if you do not desire children he would never force one on you. You do not have to love him, he knows you likely never will, but just respect him; for outside purposes you will be husband and wife, but behind closed doors, and to those here in Dorne, who not care about such things, it will not matter.”

“Oh?”

“Give it some time and you will find a lover, a man or a woman, or many lovers,” she explained, “love should not be contained so willfully, unless two people desire it. you are free to explore and take as lovers as you want. You give and take love.”

“Oberyn...has a lover,” why you suddenly felt shy, you did not know. Certainly it could not be jealousy? You did not know him nor care for him, and clearly did not love him, but something inside you panged slightly. How strange it would be to be married to a man with a different lover.

“He had a lover, a paramour by the name of Ellaria Sand,” she explained and you found yourself intrigued, “she’s a most kind, generous and lovely woman, and mother to four of his daughters. She is beautiful as she is kind and still comes around often, but she has left his bed sometime ago and has returned to her childhood home in Helholt.”

“Oh?” you wondered if it had anything to do with you, but you had your doubts. What power would you, a mere child compared to his longtime lover hold? 

“It was amicable, I believe. They remain friends, and both love their daughters deeply. I think a strong bond and love remains between them, but nothing romantic,” she expanded, but it did not ease your nerves, “I’m sure you will meet her at some point, she comes around not infrequently, but you have nothing to worry about. She will love you, as we already do as well. She will understand what your position as Oberyn’s wife means.”

“Does he take other lovers still?” 

“As far as I know,” she shrugged, not deeply concerned with her uncle’s affairs, “anything further than that you will have to discuss among yourselves.”

“I see,” you let out a long sigh and let your shoulders slump, finding little solace in her words. She was trying her best, but it did not chase away all your fears, “still I...”

“Remember,” she said softly, “name only. You will not have be with him, in his presence, any more than you desire. He will grant you many liberties and freedoms. The ways things work between a husband and wife are very different here in Dorne than in the North. You will not be confined to the palace or your husband, you will have your own voice here.”

“Such a strange concept,” you mused as she shrugged, “all my life I’ve been told that my only goal in life is to behave, marry a nobleman, and bear him children. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Welcome to Dorne, sweet dove,” Arianne pressed a light kiss to the side of your head, before moving to leave your chambers, leaving you alone with your thoughts, “and welcome to House Martell.”

You watched her go without another word, envying her easy going personality and liveliness. She’s known this her whole life, and yet she was so happy; maybe there was something to this Dornish way of life. Maybe you could find some purchase here and make a happy little life for yourself. With or without your husband at your side. 

You straightened up and stretched, raising your arms above your head as you looked at the moon, shining among the stars. Maybe...this did not have to be as bad as you had originally thought; maybe Dorne could be your own sanctuary. Your head was swimming with so many thoughts, and you were overwhelmed with a tiredness you had not known in ages. You walked back into your bedchamber, leaving the doors open to let in the warm evening breeze. It was quiet now, a quiet that you’d never really experience. Peaceful.

Oberyn watched you moved back inside from his spot in the courtyard of the palace. He and Doran had returned early, at his behest, but not early enough for a proper introduction. He been curious to meet his bride, the wild girl from the North that refused to be tamed. He had overheard you and Arianne, listening intently to your every word, clinging on to them to try and figure out how to best serve you. He wanted you to be happy, he hoped you would be, and if you wanted nothing to do with him, then he would respect that as well. 

Whatever you desired, Oberyn Martell was going to make sure you had it. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @yourealegendroger  @thesecondlastjedi  @bitemerog  @rogernroll  @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos  @dinkiplier @starrystarrybabe  @onexlittlespark  @benhardyseyes  @marvelstuck  @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes  @wonderwich  @a-kind-of-magik  @lv7867  @itissnowingandimstuckinside  @dessert-hardy  @rogertaylors-lipgloss  @rogerfxckingtaylor  @queenbbarnes  @drowseoftaylor  @persephonesnebula  @mamaskillerqueen  @theimpossiblehologramtree  @loveandbeloved29 @meddows-rose @onceitbubbles @wonderwoman292 @moondustmemories @spacedustmazzello  @queenlover05  @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @el-lizzie  @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen  @lavenderl3mons​  @hiscyarika​  @readsalot73  @rosetophighlander​

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home (Part One)

(NOT MY GIF)

Summary: After not speaking to her brothers for over a year, Peyton Rhodes’ life is turned upside down when her boyfriend of four years cheats on her. She uproots her life with WWE and returns home to Atlanta. She finds herself among great friends and she is finding herself again after being lost for so long.

WORD COUNT: 2,624 (well shit). 

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC (maybe?), MJFx OFC( maybe?) Could end up being Matt Jackson x OFC (who knows) let the writing gods surprise us.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentioned cheating, possible future smut (Warnings are subject to change as I continue writing and will be updated as needed).

A/N: This has been a WIP for over a year now. This will be multiple parts. It will be a slow burn. (MAYBE) I’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope. Please do not think that this reflects my feels toward a certain wrestler (Seth). This story is strictly fiction. I do not own any of the characters except for my OFC(s). Please, please, please, give me feedback. I’m slowly working myself back into the fanfic world. <3

“Cody was right.” I cried as soon as my brother’s wife answered the phone. I hadn’t spoken to my brothers since they left WWE. Cody was upset that I wouldn’t leave with him. Brandi was my way of communication with them. She’d call at least twice a week. This week was different. 

“I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win over Finn and they were,” I sniffled, hurt coming over me again. “It was Mandy. I thought she was my friend.” I explained to my sister in law.

“Pey, I am so sorry. Please come home. You know AEW has a spot for you whenever you want it.” Brandi offered. It was the same thing she said to me every week, but now I’m ready. 

“I just don’t know why.” I cried. “I was the perfect girlfriend. I basically put my career on hold for him. I thought he was, I thought he was it for me.” Brandi had said that they were going to be home for Cody’s birthday in a few weeks and invited me to come to the party. 

“I’ll talk to Hunter.” I choked out. 

Luckily, my contract was almost up and as soon as Vince heard I didn’t want to re-sign, he settled for my release. We didn’t have the best relationship, but Hunter advocated for me stating that it was best for the company as well as myself. He knew the situation and didn’t blame me for wanting to go.

I knew I had to go back one day. I just never thought it would be this soon. I parked my car in the drive. I could hear Pharaoh announcing my arrival before I could make it to the door. I made my way up the sidewalk to the porch. I took a deep breath and knocked. 

Brandi opened the door immediately. “Well I'll be damned.” She said, “I can’t believe you came!” I smiled, embracing my brother’s wife. 

“Like I would miss my big brother’s 35th birthday.” I lied and she knew it. If Seth hadn’t cheated on me, I wouldn’t be here. 

Brandi led me inside where there were some guests who had gathered in the foyer. Brandi introduced me quickly, leading me through to Cody. “Hey, babe. Your surprise is here.” Cody, who was standing by the fireplace, talking to Dustin, turned and saw me. 

Awkwardly, I raised a hand to wave. “Hi.” I whispered. Cody sat down his drink and walked over to me. I expected him to cuss and yell, but instead, he threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly. 

“Peyton, I'm so happy you’re here.” He whispered. Dustin came up behind him. 

“Long time, no see sis. You know, they invented this thing called a phone. You should look into it. Call your big brothers sometime.” Dustin fussed before hugging me too. 

“It is really good to see you guys.” I tried to hold back the tears, but some escaped anyway. “How have you been? AEW has really taken off huh?” I said making small talk.

Cody nodded, “Yeah, I have the best business partners. I can’t wait for you to meet them.” Looking at my brother, he was truly happy. WWE had given him a few more stress lines, but seeing him now, you couldn’t tell. 

He grabbed my hand, pulling me to follow him. He led me to Matt and Nick Jackson, standing with Kenny Omega and Adam Page. “Guys! Guys! Look who decided to show her face.” Cody beamed, smiling big. The four guys waved. 

“Finally! We get to meet the prodigal sister.” Kenny Omega spoke first. 

“Peyton, these are the guys.” Cody pointed to each of them. “Matt. Nick. Kenny. Adam.” 

“Nice to meet y’all finally. I watch your show every week. You are all very talented.” They all mumbled a “thank you” in tandem. 

The rest of the evening went by smoothly. We all sat and talked. Getting to know The Elite was amazing. It was almost as if I hadn’t been AWOL for a year and a half.  When the party was over, I was helping Brandi clean up. 

“Pey, you don’t have to help. You’re a guest.” She said, grabbing the glasses from my hands. I shook my head.

“I’m family. And family helps.” I smiled, taking the glasses back and continued to the kitchen. Cody walked in behind me with plates. 

“Hey,” he started, “Thank you for coming.” He finished, placing the plates in the dishwasher. I added my glasses. 

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, turning to face him. Cody looked at me, confused. “I should have left with you. You were right about that place. My career, my relationship, everything, became a shitshow after you left.” tears began to fall. 

“Pey, it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here now.” Cody wiped the tears away. 

“Code. I lost my title. Seth cheated on me, and I barely got any TV time.” Cody scoffed. He never liked Seth.

“He cheated on you?” Cody growled, and paced around the room. 

I nodded, “I caught him. I went to congratulate him after his win one night and they were,” I sniffled, explaining to Cody. “I don’t know why.” I cried. “And then I lost my title, and then stopped getting TV time, unless I was on Seth’s arm.” I darted my eyes to the ground. “We still had to work together. After everything, I had to pretend like we were the perfect couple, until my last appearance.” Cody pulled me into a tight hug. 

“I pissed a lot of people off with the way I left. I’m so sorry that affected you.” he whispered into my hair, like it was his fault. 

“I don’t blame you, Code. I was granted my release.” I mumbled into his chest. He pulled back. 

“What?” His eyes were wide. 

“I asked for my release and Hunter pushed it through. I’ll be a free agent in 90 days” I explained. Cody smiled like a Cheshire cat.  

“Babe! Dustin! Get in here!” Cody yelled, startling me. The both of them came running, looking for an emergency, but they only saw Cody pouring champagne for a toast. Confused looks covered their faces. 

Cody gave everyone a flute and started a toast. “To our baby sister, the newest AEW superstar.” Brandi squealed and hugged me tight. The guys joined in. 

I was finally home. 

It was hard, walking away from my life in WWE; However, finding my place within the Elite was easy. Especially with Kenny Omega. He quickly became one of my closest friends. The next 3 months were the best of my life. The break from wrestling gave my body and my heart time to heal. Everyone did their best to hide that I was coming to AEW, even leaving fake trails that I was going back to NJPW.

After working out the details of my contract, I was officially signed with AEW. Cody wanted me to make a surprise entrance, interrupt one of his segments. Creative loved the idea of brother and sister reuniting, but they wanted to make it interesting. When my debut date came, I couldn’t have been any more nervous.

Sitting in catering, I was alone, lost in thought, picking at my food. It had been a long journey here, but they made it. AEW came to life and it was thriving. Double or nothing had passed, and that meant tonight was Dynamite.

“Guess who?” Someone had snuck up on me, covering my eyes. I smiled because I knew exactly who it was.

“Hmm, Prince Charming?” I guessed quickly. Kenny placed a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Close, but better.” He said uncovering my eyes. “Hey, princess. Just thought I’d come save you from your thoughts. What’s going on in that head of yours right now?” he asked, knowing I’ll tell him, taking the seat next to me. 

I sighed, rubbing my face. “I was thinking about my journey, how I got here.” Kenny nodded, but didn’t say anything. “I was thinking about how I get to see Jon again, since leaving WWE, and I was thinking about Seth.” I finally spit it out. Seth, his name leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

“I knew something was bothering you. Talk to me, doll.”

“I was scrolling through Insta earlier. He’s engaged. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. Not because I still have feelings for him, but because she is, was, my friend, and I don’t want him to do to her what he did to me.” I explained to him.

“That’s understandable, Pey, but people gotta make their own mistakes. Mandy knows what he did to you and she still said yes, so that’s on her.” Kenny said, ever the voice of reason.

I nodded in agreement with him, knowing he was right. I needed to focus on my new path, my new future.

“Peyton!” Cody called from a distance, Brandi following him. It was time.

Cody stood, center ring, proudly. He had won the TNT title at Double or Nothing. He went on about how he was issuing an open challenge every Wednesday.

I stood nervously behind the curtain, waiting for my cue. I was about to make my debut. My life has been a little crazy since I left WWE behind, but definitely for the better. 

As an avid Fall Out Boy fan, I had struck a deal to have my favorite song as my entrance music. I had been using it for most of my career. The music hit, the crowd went crazy. “Holy Hell, that music can only mean one person. The sister of the American Nightmare. That’s Peyton Rhodes!” JR yelled into his mic as I strolled down the ramp, ignoring the crowd. “Peyton” chants filled the arena as I made my way to the squared circle. 

“Peyton Rhodes has joined  AEW and the crowd couldn’t be happier,” Excalibur added. I walked around the ring to the time keeper, grabbing a mic from Justin, and strolled on toward the ring. 

The music cut, and Cody was first to speak. "Oh yeah. I guess we didn't announce this but Peyton Rhodes is AEW!" The crowd screamed at Cody's news, chanting "AEW". 

I soaked in the cheers because I knew it was all about to change. I had been a face for most of my pro-wrestling career, and now I finally get to pursue the heel turn my fans had been begging for. I took in a deep breath and adjusted my leather jacket. 

“Oh, Atlanta, shut the hell up!” I groaned into the mic. I revelled in the audible gasp that could be heard. “That’s right. No more sweet ‘Georgia peach’ Peyton Rhodes. I came to AEW to raise hell, and that’s what I’m going to do.” I wandered around the ring, stopping in front of a camera. “I’m sick and tired of wanting your approval. I’m here to get what I want. And I want it all.” I punctuated as I looked dead into the camera.

“Hear that big brother,” I turned and faced Cody, “Hell just arrived in AEW I hope you’re ready.” I gestured to the crowd, “I hope you’re all ready, because if you thought Cody was a nightmare, wait til you see me, the Dream Killer.” I dropped the mic, and rolled out of the ring. The crowd loved it. “Dream Killer” chants echoed in my ears all the way backstage. 

I was greeted by Dustin, Brandi, and Kenny. “That was perfect, Pey, they loved it.” Kenny said as soon as I was in sight. I grinned, running up to him, jumping into his arms for a hug. 

“The crowd loved you. They’ve been hoping for this heel turn since your WWE debut.” Cody said, smiling from ear to ear as he returned to the back after finishing his promo.

“For real, Pey! You pull off the ‘heel’ thing. I can’t wait to work on your wardrobe!” Brandi squealed, embracing me in a dancing hug. “Just think about the shoes, Pey, the shoes.” Brandi was way more excited about the outfits than the actual turn. She had helped me pick the one I was wearing. Black jean shorts, a front-zip black and white crop top, leather jacket, and black boots. 

“I can’t wait to see where this takes me.” I said before we were joined by the rest of The Elite.  

Nick was the first to speak. “Not bad, Rhodes. You might be a better heel than your brother here.” He elbowed Cody in the ribs.

Matt nodded in agreement, “For real Peyton, the crowd was so hyped for that turn.” He said with a soft smile, bringing me in for a quick hug. 

I turned to face everyone. “Thanks guys. All of you. You gave me this chance.” I thanked them, “I promise I won’t let you down.” 

“You’re a great addition to the AEW family.” Adam complimented, “Come on Ken, we got a match to get ready for.” he said before walking away. Kenny gave me one last hug before following him.

Cody and Brandi also parted as she had a segment coming up, leaving me with the Young Bucks. “Come on, Pey, lets celebrate!” We had walked back to catering where some more of the AEW stars were waiting. In the back, I spotted the one person I couldn’t wait to see again. I told The Bucks I’d catch up with them. 

“Jon!” I screamed, almost running to him. When he saw me rushing toward him, he opened his arms, inviting me in for a hug. Hugging him was a blast from the past. 

“Peyton fucking Rhodes. I heard rumors you were coming. Sweetheart, you knocked them dead.” He spoke into my hair. I gave him one more tight squeeze before pulling away. “Well, you look great.” He said, gesturing to my outfit. 

“I’m heel now. Finally.” I boasted. I’ve been waiting for this for the longest time and no one was taking it away from me. Jon and I talked, catching up. I asked about Renee and he lit up. He was happy and that’s all I wanted for him. He was finally able to be the fighting champion everyone knew he could be. 

“What about Seth? What happened? The last time I spoke to him, he said you guys were happy and he had bought a ring.” Jon asked, and it knocked the breath out of me. I knew he would ask, but I wasn’t expecting him to mention a ring. 

“He cheated on me. With Mandy. They’re engaged now.” I said without choking up, which was a good sign. I could see the disappointment well up in Jon’s eyes. 

“You were always too good for him.” I knew he and Seth were still good friends, but I appreciated the words nonetheless. Jon gave me one last hug before he got called away for his match, leaving me alone in catering again. 

I found a table close to a TV so I could watch the end of Kenny and Adam’s match. They were well on their way to becoming tag team champions. I started thinking about what Jon had said about Seth, about him buying a ring. I couldn’t believe it. He was going to ask me to marry him and I would have said yes, had I not found him with Mandy. I was pulled from my thoughts by my phone vibrating. It was Seth. 

I saw your debut. 

You look good. 

You’re gonna be a great heel.

I miss you. 

I wish you would talk to me and let me explain. 

I read and reread the messages a hundred times before replying. 

Okay, Seth. When and where?

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 4

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word Count: 1,822

Warnings: Themes of Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Daddy/Mommy issues? Substance abuse? Etc. Later chapters will involve NSFW and violent content. 

A/N:

SIKE! Once a week? Nah I'm much too hyper-focused for that! Thank you everyone for your awesome feedback and support! You guys are the best! Check out my Patreon if you can, if not, just keep that awesome attention coming! Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day! ❤

Chapter 3 Chapter 5 

"Oh shit."

You said this out loud, to the room, without thinking. Toga turned to look at you, over the past few days she's grown quite attached.

"What’s wrong?" She asked.

"You didn't by any chance...take my meds when you kidnapped me, did you?"

"You're useless!" Your mother screamed.

"Useless! Ten days! It’s been ten days since my daughter was last seen alive and you can't find ANYTHING!?" She raged on, she's always had a bad temper. Poor Detective Tsukauchi held his head low in a lazy bow. He apologized repeatedly and insisted they were doing their best. There was just no trace of you or the league. They suspected it had to do with someone's quirk. 

"Please, don't yell. They're doing the best they can." Your father pleaded with her.

"Aren't you the least bit worried!?" She yelled at him.

"Of course I am! But they have the best on the case, something has to come up soon."

"Pitiful," she spat, "do have any idea what could have happened by now? Ten days without her meds!"

"I know! I know... But she's been working so hard, surely she has some control-"

"Hah! Control? Her? Have you ever even met your own daughter?" The room fell silent. Confusion and fear washed over your father. But you were always so well behaved. What was she talking about? 

"How long will it take?" Xavier asked. He sat peacefully, pouring over papers, wracking through theories and possibilities.

"Pardon?"

"How long will it take for her quirk to manifest without her meds?" He asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

"There's no telling. Her meds work to suppress her abilities, they don't halt them completely. By the time she came to Japan, her quirk was so suppressed that she could hardly use it at all. It may take some time for it to rise again, but I doubt it will be gentle."

"That’s it then. We just wait until her quirk manifests again, she’ll make a scene and then we grab her." Xavier's expression was blank, cold, and cunning. He creeped your father out, he didn't like him the moment he saw him. He was dead behind the eyes. 

"If this is the league, and All for One is behind this, we have to consider..." All Might trailed off.

"Toshinori..."

"They may have stripped her of her quirk entirely. With an ability like hers... I shudder to think of a Nomu with that power..."

"This is ridiculous. We have to release this to the public. Maybe someone has seen her or the league!" Your mother demanded.

"She's right. We have to alert the public, heroes are already on the lookout, but civilians help solve missing person cases every day. I'm sorry Toshinori, but we have to go to the public." Detective Tsukauchi admitted. Your father sighed and stared blankly at the table.

"Civilians find bodies, not people." Xavier spat. "If we really want to get her back, alive, we have to let her make the first move."

"And what if they've stripped her of her quirk?" Tsukauchi asked.

"I doubt they're even aware she has a quirk. It’s been suppressed for so long, not even she is aware of it anymore. I know Y/N, she's not a girl you mess with. Quite frankly I was surprised they got her in the first place, it's not like her to lose a fight like that. She's strong and smart. She'll figure things out eventually."

"But what happens then? How do we keep her from being taken again? How do we get her back?" Your father poked at his logic.

"For now we'll announce her disappearance and ask if anyone has any information. A reward for her safe return should be offered." Tsukauchi stated.

"And what do we say? The secret daughter of The Symbol of Peace is missing? It'll be madness, people won't know what to think." Xavier barked.

"No. We say she's an American tourist who went missing. Nothing more." Your mother declared.

"It's fine, really. If it would help the case any, I don't care if people know. We kept her identity a secret for so long to keep her safe, and now...it doesn't matter anymore! If it would-"

"I'm afraid she's right. If we let it out that the daughter of Japan's #1 hero has been kidnapped, it won’t look good."

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you urgent news!"

"What now?" Spinner groaned from his seat as Shigaraki adjusted the volume on the television. At first, you didn't pay much attention, until you heard your name.

"American tourist, Y/L/N Y/N, is missing. Y/L/N was last seen-"

"American tourist? Is that all they're going to call her?" Mr. Compress hummed.

"Why? Why aren't they telling the truth?" Shigaraki mumbled to himself. He ran his sweaty palm over his neck before the urge to scratch became too much and he gave in.

"I'm sorry." You told him. He froze. Hand still dug into the flesh of his neck, the skin turning pink under his nails. He slowly turned to look up at you.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm sorry I'm not what you had in mind. Dad is either determined to keep me a secret or the heroes are onto you. Either way, you’re plan has been compromised. You might as well let me go and move on.” You watched him as he sat there scratching at his neck. He thought for a moment, then paused. 

“As frustrating as this might be, we’re not done yet. If they won’t tell the truth, I know someone who will. Isn’t that right, Y/L/N?” 

“And what if I don’t corporate?” You swallowed nervously. 

“Aren’t you tired of being All Might’s dirty little secret? Don’t you want everyone to know the truth about you?” You watched his lips curl into a smile under the hand. 

“No.” 

“Why?” You paused to think. It all left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had lived your life hidden away from a man you hardly knew. After years and years of keeping the secret, it got easier and easier to lie. After all, when you said you didn’t have a dad, you weren’t lying. 

“He’s not my dad, not really. He’s some glorified…” you looked down at your feet and curled your socks around each other, “sperm donor.” You muttered. Shigaraki stood and approached you again. It made your heart race, the way he slowly shuffled over. You were all too aware that he could kill you at any given moment, with a wave of his hand, you’d be gone. Would that be so bad? You thought. Your lip began to quiver and your eyes became red and sore with tears. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry again. 

“Are you crying?” His voice was quiet. 

“Just do it. Just touch me.” You whimpered to him. He froze. He watched you as you made attempts to cover up your face and wipe away the tears that refused to stop flowing. The tension in the air, though thick, began to swirl around. A buzz of energy filled the room as you cried. The hair on the back of everyone’s neck raised and their hearts began to flutter wildly. 

“Y/L/N…” Toga whispered to herself as she watched you. She stood and started to walk towards you. Shigaraki stayed still, taking note of the energy that came from you. 

“Go on.” You growled through tears as you reached out a hand towards him. He jumped back slightly, only to feel the back of a chair push against his back. Had it moved? Your whimpers became sobs as the furniture began to raddle and shake around them. The league watched in horror as you slid to the floor. The energy built and built as your panic attack washed over you, engulfing you entirely. You had cried a handful of times in the days you had taken, intense emotions had come and gone, but something about this episode was different. 

“Hey, kiddo! It’s alright!” Twice shouted at you as he tried to make his way closer to console you. 

“We won’t make you do anything you don’t want!” Toga followed. 

“Deep breaths, you’ll be alright.” Mr. Compress reassured. Their words hardly got to you as the assault on your mind went on. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You sobbed uncontrollably. Shigaraki looked out into the room and watched as the furniture that shook began to shift closer and closer to you. He looked back down at you, his heart squeezed in his chest and his own emotions began to turn. Horrified by the way this made him feel, he moved to get away from you as others gathered to be closer. 

Toga’s hand met your back and rubbed soft circles there as they reassured you, and soon enough the furniture stopped shaking, the energy in the room dropped, and you started to calm down. You sniffled and wiped your red and puffy face as you looked up at the faces of villains. Villains that had comforted you and calmed you down during a panic attacked. You felt confused and concerned. Were they playing some kind of brainwashing game with you? But they looked so genuine. No one has ever been so kind before. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break down like that, I just-” 

“Don’t apologize-Shut it!” 

“These things happen.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Toga gave a kind smile. 

“I don’t understand, why are you so nice to me?” The three looked at one another before turning back. 

“We understand!” Twice shouted. 

“We know what if feels like to be in your shoes.” You stood on your shaky legs and looked out into the room. 

“What happened in here?” You asked when you noticed all the furniture had shifted. 

“You really don’t know?” Shigaraki asked from his place, far away from you. He was sufficiently spooked. No one had ever… 

“This is bad...this is really bad…” You muttered. You nervously chewed at your lip and tugged at your shirt. “It’s happening again. Please, please you have to let me go!” You begged him as he watched you shuffle towards him. 

“What’s happening again, Y/L/N?” Toga asked you, tugging back your arm. 

“I-I-I can’t explain, please, just let me go. For your sake, I need my meds!” Her grip on your arm tightened. 

“Why?” His eyes narrowed and she stared at you. 

“It’s her quirk,” Shigaraki noted. 

“I can’t control it otherwise, please, you’re not safe.” You begged him. The energy became to rise again, he felt it, it swept up the back of his neck and made his whole body tingle and ache. 

“Tie her down.” He ordered. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Toga said as she pulled you in close and the others began to grab ahold of you. 

“No! Please!” 

Taglist: 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love ​ @kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 

[yeoldontknow]

❧ check in tag

tagged by the sweetest angel @propinqxity to do this little tag. this is such a cute list of questions, and some of these i dont think ive been asked before. thank you so much for the tag and the tumblr crush mention lovely. you truly are a bright spot on this website and i mean that sincerely <333

going under a cut because im certain i will ramble ~

1. Why did you choose this url?

its sort of like a pun between yall dont know and the fact that, hopefully, sincerely, chanyeol does not in fact know that i run this blog lmao i changed to this after a long time of being bread-jinie and i wanted to rebrand. i will, however, do my best to never change URLs again because the masterlist switch over was a complete hassle

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

i have a fic recs blog called @yeoldontknowiread. as to why i have it, i know it hasnt been updated in ages since ive been kind of on hiatus, but i think reading and sharing work on this platform is immensely important. i actually read quite a lot of fanfiction, and i try my best to share the things i read. im very very behind on recs at the moment cause i try my best to write something substantial for every recommendation i make. as a writer, i know exactly the kinds of thoughts and feedback on fics that make my heart soar so i try to put in the same energy to my recs. community is only fostered when there is reciprocation

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

hmmm since april 2017. i actually had my 4 year anniversary this year and i did have plans for things but i got roped into real life things and couldnt celebrate the way i truly wanted to :(

4. Do you have a queue tag?

no but sometimes i think i should. i view tags as a library on top of my knee jerk response to things. most of my tags are just my initial thoughts or feelings at any given moment, so those take precedence over a specific queue tag

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

when i was getting into exo, i was reading fanfiction like crazy. i used to write fanfic quite a lot in other fandoms, but at that time i hadnt written anything in about 2.5 years. exo was the first re-introduction to that feeling of excitement and inspiration. after about 3 weeks of straight reading, i decided i wanted to write again. i wrote the prologue to hero in about two hours and tried logging into AO3 to post it. sadly i forgot all of my log in information because it had been years, and was getting frustrated. i really wanted to put it somewhere out of fear that id lose interest if i didnt do something with it, and everything id read had been on tumblr. so i made a tumblr just to put hero lmao i didnt have any mutuals. it was a blog with straight 0. i hadnt even created an account to interact with writers before that moment, i really thought id be a silent reader forever. but exo woke me back up and for that i am eternally grateful.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

the yours music video is...so stunning? like the colour theory throughout the whole thing is truly so inspiring and gorgeous. and this shot of chanyeol looking at the painting took my breath away, truly. tulips and the color of peach, like do you know how evocative that is? ugh

7. Why did you choose your header

my header was made by @jamaisjoons for my birthday this year because shes literally the most talented person when it comes to graphics. and this was so kind of her to do, i cried a lot

8. What's your post with the most notes?

uhm....either the body through time or truth i cant remember which but i checked recently and its one of those

9. How many mutuals do you have?

honestly at this point im not even sure. i know ive lost a bunch while i was on hiatus because i was basically a dead blog, and some people do dash cleanses. and im certain others have left, too, for their own reasons. still, i have a good core of friends though who are active and that is enough for me

10. How many followers do you have?

more than i probably deserve

11. How many people do you follow?

399

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

uhm i guess? there was a time when nng was not updated and every wednesday id post the days go by music video in sadness and grief but im not a big shitposter. if i make a text post its usually a life update or me crying about chanyeol, theres no inbetween lmao

13. How often do you use Tumblr every day?

tbh i havent used tumblr that often, not since march i think. i used to use it many times a day, checking in on friends and stuff, but once i started focusing on my phd applications i was only here sporadically. i didnt make an announcement either, just let my blog run on queue so i wasnt totally gone. i think i was checking in twice a week or maybe once every two weeks to refill my queue and check mentions etc. but now that my interviews are done im trying to get back on here daily to reconnect

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

ive had my share of disagreements with people and any details about those situations shall remain as they are meant to: private

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts?

in what context? like, you need to reblog this or your wish wont come true? or like, please reblog this to spread the word/spread awareness, etc? in the case for the former, i scroll right by. in the case of the latter, if im around and see someone raising a go fund me or some major event is occurring and i find a post with good sources or charities i will reblog. mostly though, the full extent my activism isnt really on this blog. its my escape from reality. my activism is usually placed on other platforms.

16. Do you like tag games?

i doooo!!! theyre so fun i love learning about my friends

17. do you like ask games?

i love those too! theyre so cute and usually a nice way to have interaction immediacy with people in the community

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

no one. can we please abandon this notion of fame on tumblr? arent we all here to write about some dick and some smut and some fluff and then hang out together and log off? lmao tumblr isnt reality and followers/fame is so arbitrary on this platform, no one has any control over any of it

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

i am in love with so many people here. let me name a few:

@yehet-me-up @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @j-pping @jamaisjoons @inkedtae @kookdiaries @yoonia @dulcetvk @kithtaehyung @imdifferentshadesofpurple @ditzymax @sugaurora @sahmbtsficrecs @junghelioseok @yeojaa @augustbutwinter @joonscore @btssavedmylifeblr @cutechim @sunshinekims @kimtaehyunq @ouvuo @delhyun @exo-stentialism @sooibian @softyoongiionly @jinseunie @zibermuda @bratkook @1kook @luffles424 @xjoonchildx

and so many other people and mutuals that i am certainly forgetting. love is such an expansive feeling, and it encompasses platonic ardor and creative desire. i admire every single person listed for so many different reasons, and cherish and treasure them or what they provide to the community. love is such an important and broad experience. truly, i hope they feel adored every single day x

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 17)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 16.1

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: You couldn't save everyone and it was a decision to sacrifice yourself for the betterment of a family you've began to hold dear. Your existence in the continent continues to confuse everyone, including you and Geralt himself.

Warnings: Blood? Poor Jaskier. Cusses. Implied rape from fuckin' assholes. No more glitters and rainbows. Bloedzuiger from the games? Gifs of Geralt with jet black eyes? I mean..why? shouldn’t it not be a warning? Heh.

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Anybody missed me?! Heehee! Now, I fookin miss Geralt and Midget together. Damn it. *sits in a corner and cries* I can’t believe I’ve surpassed my own curse where I only reach up to 5 chapters then keep a story unfinished due to lack of inspo and will. 😭😂 (Update has been earlier due to my uncle’s birthday tomorrow and I might not be able to use my laptop. Hehehe) We’re in the middle of the whole fic, bb’s. This is where everything’s going to happen now. Probably might earn some temple scratching somehow. Hehehe. 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!  

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. (Credits to bi-jaskier and others who deserves credit for the gifs)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

7 BILLION PEOPLE IN EARTH. YOUR DIMENSION. There was a myth that seven people might look exactly like you out of the billion that were born. Though, being identical was a once in a blue moon circumstance that held no support or proof that it happened.

Twins even had their own genetic differences, their DNA's were not even the same or even mutually identical to one another.

But, you were transported into another dimension that you didn't know about and based on their conversation and how you've perceived from what they were saying is that you have already been in their hands when it never even happened from the start.

They sounded like they've already seen you somewhere when they haven't at all.

Chevaliers circled around you with their swords sheathed from where it rightfully belongs. They've had a malicious glint in their eyes, dangerous and full of spite. Disgust even included in their humanized souls---if they were even still human. They were looking as if you were an oddball. Judgemental to the fullest; vaguely telling that you were considered as a freak for being the witcher's woman.

Forest green eyes scanned yours, listless but an anomalous situation from the group of uncharitable gallants who seemed to have similar odious characteristics. This cavalier stood out rather than the rest because his eyes held sympathy and not hostility. He was gracile, the same body built as Jaskier. But, wearing no armor just like the vampire you loathed the most. Other than a brown doublet which matches his chocolate colored hair.

He crouched before you, thoroughly scrutinizing your face under his gaze; finding something distinctive or common with the lass that they have captured three days ago, "Wasn't she the one we captured, Ty? That thief named Savia?" his tone held curiosity and astonishment when he saw the exact same face of the woman.

There was no differences except from the aura he could feel. You had her face, voice and body structure. Entirely the same for his wits to disfunction from what he has witnessed.

The scrubbing echo of gravel, dirt and leather made you turn your head to where it was. Tybalt. The fucking vampire who stabbed you on the hip and tried to sell those women away. He was there, right in front of you; grinning like a mad man like he has caught a mouse in the cage, entirely anticipating this moment to capture you once again with purposes you didn't know yet.

Kolby was nowhere to be found. After trying to protect you from the hands of Tybalt, your Hirikka was pushed back by the vampire and his strength, making you screech as Kolby loudly whimpered and growled when he'd stumbled; his back flat from the far distance before skedaddling off through the woods. The simple escape back to where he belonged pinched a your heart because he had already been a part of what made you happy with your stay in their dimension.

You didn't expect his leave to be so early; in the midst of being captured by the hands of real life monsters.

If people were scared of monsters in this world you were currently in, then they should think twice because the cruel form of life in every damn world was the humanity it thrives in; continuing to become cruel, vicious, evil and cunning because people lived to strive more with greed surging through their veins as their own demons try to conquer.

Humanity was everyone's main enemy and not their monsters.

Tybalt gave you a subtle tilt of his head, his grin utterly sinister; those teeth of his never showing the fangs that you have seen back at the marketplace when he was trying to provoke Geralt as he was butchering off his knightly minions.

The break of dawn was coming to a start. Peachy orange glow of the sun hiding began to rest beneath the mountains and clouds that looked the same back in earth. Its glow have made everything more frightening while you were surrounded by a bunch of armored men and a vampire who obviously had strength and skills to kill you in a blink of an eye.

Geralt never scared you because his heart was good. No doubt about that because he had offer you his house from the first day you've met, even treating your wounds and saving you from an Alghoul who wanted to eat your insides. But, Tybalt was different. He didn't appear to be like a person to trust even the slightest except if you were a princess in the castle.

He had his hands on his hips, eyes digging to examine your face. The way he stood held power and cruelty as he clicked his tongue, "S'not the feisty one. I know this maiden's scent. She's the real one, aren't ye', you wench?"

Tybalt abruptly crouched down in front of you, his fingers speedily grabbing onto your roots and turning them in an aching posture that had you growling, teeth barred from the feral reaction. The wrinkles of his nose shown when he defiled your space, abrasing the column of your neck that ignited an intense shiver from the disgust as you cowered away and struggled against his hold.

You've heard Jaskier's footing come to a stand, his doublet spilled with his own blood. Hair all wild and facial expression livid for their sudden visit. The golden, sharp dagger tightened around his fist as he marched heavy steps towards the higher vampire.

But, his assault came to a stop when one cavalier shielded him before he could have Tybalt within reach, strongly punching him in the gut that made him stumble to the ground in less than a second. Jaskier sputtered out droplets of blood, a pointed sword punctuating the tip on his jugular.

Jaskier's pained moans made you snarl right back at the queen's right hand man which made him instinctively tut, "But, the fragrance has a distinctive scent to it now---I don't even know what's runnin' inside the mind of this whore anymore," Pause. Tybalt huffed, scoffing with a grin as he interrogated, "---What did the witcher do to ye'?"

You could feel his terrible breath on your face. His hold unwavering from the resolute strength that he had when you lowly grated through clenched teeth, your eyes screaming elfish because of how you were trying to dillydally in hopes of seeing a white haired witcher to come running towards you with his horse. But, considering how he was probably out to hunt a monster, he was probably busy and distracted. So, expecting the worst was better than awaiting for a moment that will never come.

"Me." you fooled around despite being in the vampire's hold, "---He's doing me. I've waited for the time to say that if someone ever asks me what my lover does---so, worth it, Leonidas."

From your foolish response, Tybalt sneered before nodding off towards the paladins who surrounded both you and Jaskier; sharing an understanding to do what is needed and before you could even turn your head back to check on Jaskier, they were already beating him down to pulp. You've heard more grunts from the twink of a toubadour which made your eyesight go foggy from being hopeless and such a waste to live in their world where you had no magic to keep everyone out of danger, "No! Don't hurt him!" you shrieked out loud, the gallants never ceasing despite of your pleads.

More blood dripped out of the side of Jaskier's lip as he took another strong blow on the gut; making his body jerk that laid from the outstretched land of the meadow. You've uttered one loud scream to catch their attention, noticing the other gallant that you noticed to be standing on a corner was just watching everything unfold like he didn't want to be involved with their horseshit.

"I swear to God, he's a weakling! Stop!---please, stop! You'll have your witcher! I'll give you your witcher just stop!"

With one signal of his head, the cavaliers stopped their battering. Jaskier feebly straightened his limbs over the short grass, coughing out more blood from their corporal punishments, grumbling out a grouse from your choice of words in which you described him with, "Shit. Rat. I've stabbed three knights in the neck for you."

If Jaskier didn't acknowledge that fact and the risk which he has given to keep you alive, you wouldn't have noticed three dead bodies laying on the farthest end of the meadow where the forest began to meet its field.

You've harshly turned your head back to Tybalt, wanting to spit on his face for being one of the best imbecile in their world but decided against it to not irritate him further until Geralt was around. His eyes were livid, staring back at you and in your peripheral vision, you've seen the back door of your house slightly ajar, a slip of a pair of the prettiest blue eyes hidden behind the hatch that made you swallow from the consternation of Cirilla being found and taken with you.

If one person was needed for capture, it should be you; not the princess. If one was to leave their world, it must be you because you didn't belong to their dimension from the start.

One cavalier took his mask off, shaking his head for his black, medium length hair to fall down his neck as he curiously crouched beside you and Tybalt. Features telling you that he was stupefied from what he was seeing with his fixated gaze on your face, "There's a whole lotta' crazy we got here in the continent! The Butcher of Blaviken created bloodbath for this maiden?"

Though, astonishment isn't the only sensation he was feeling when you've felt his fingers graze upon the lines of your ear; seeming to be bawdy and suggestive from the sudden touch and you couldn't help but wrest away from his reach. Howbeit, Tybalt's hand that was yanking on your head made it difficult to.

"Though, this harlot is less feisty than the other! I would rather much have her for tonight,"

The knight's sentence was sheared off when he was strongly pushed by the shoulder from the vampire; his fingers pulling away from outlining your lips with his fingers as he fell on his ass flat on the ground. You've been pulled by the hair to stand, making you pant harsh breaths from how painful it was feeling. Hands were trying to wrench his fingers from your head but his hold was too tight for you to tweak away.

"Ingrith wants her untouched just like the other," Tybalt droned as he pulled you close to him, seeming to be tall as Geralt. His height being an advantage over your small form as he dragged you anywhere he wanted. The knight who was pushed to the ground grunted from how he was assaulted, scowling from Tybalt's shoving as he cackled in a shady manner when he heard the latter set boundaries from their current captive.

"Ye' know ye' shouldn't fuck with a witcher's tart, Allard."

"I would! The weccan' wouldn't mind, does he?" the disgusting cavalier brought his feet to a stand, dusting the grass from his flat derriere as he looked back at Tybalt with a slight tilt of his head; the longer his gaze holds, it turns even more disgusting as he looked like he was undressing you with those dark hues of his, they were the type of stomach-churning that can make you sick in no time, "Oh, she's probably a fuckin' freak like him, lad." the latter stated as a matter of fact, smirking in between his words as he nonchalantly continued.

"---Where's the freak?"

They were making your blood boil by how you could hear they were treating him. Has it been always like this in his world? ergo, he was living a life where people see him ghostly rather than a gifted human as he was seen in your eyes. You couldn't help but sarcastically giggle from their rude speech, "He has a name and it's Geralt. Don't disrespect him like that when you're actually the real freak, Edward." pause. "---You fuckers are worse than any other human." before you can even think twice, spit drizzled on Tybalt's face when you've fumed and barked back, "---More evil than the devil himself and I pray for each and one of you to go to fucking hell,"

"The devil don't exist here, ye' foolish cunt!"

Without any delay or second thoughts, a deafening sound of a slap has rumbled; it was a saddle-sore, the strong smack lingering longer on your cheek as excruciating as it can get. He probably used a little bit of his inhumane strength because of how you've descended down the ground; the side of your head hitting as your whole body fell. Your palms flat on the terra firma, receiving bruises on the edge of your lips because of how you've nosedived in it.

"Rat---!" Jaskier shouted from the background before you've heard the gallants haul him down to kick his face hard.

The asshole squat down to where you were stumbled down, his face showing no pity from what he'd done; slapping you on the face like you deserve it from being all talk and no help, "I suppose ye' don't know where he is. Fair enough then! Let's give er' a lil' bit of a chase---" pause. "---He must try and serve his purpose to the land of Kaedwen other than being a freak of a mutant and slaughtering monsters for coins,”

You spat out the metallic taste of your blood that went inside your mouth, shifting your eyes to where he was bent. You've placed your fingers on your side, gesturing towards the princess who seemed to be shaking and panicking from inside the house, seeing silver clasped around her hands as she was contemplating how to defend you both from the gallants. She had the sword that her and Geralt uses whenever they were trying to train; the weapon which has been in your hands as well.

But, you subtly gestured for her to stand down and hide. It won't be such a nice sight if she did want to help.

"You sound like the castle's loyal pet. Hilarious."

The whole scenario was a fight or flight, and the logical part of your brain screams to cooperate with what they wanted before anything ends up more badly than it can ever get. You lifted yourself off the ground, sitting on the floor while you give Tybalt the death glare as he grinned because he knew the action he did was a trigger for you to comply.

"Where's the other girl?" he chuckled, watching your fists tightened to your sides when you were on your feet. A bloody, deep gash on your cheek when some stone has scratched it and also from Tybalt's whack.

"Don't even think about it, you asshole." you immediately hissed when you knew he was talking about Cirilla. The latter also stood on his feet, tall and confident that his plans were going on the right path today.

"What? She yer' daughter? aren't ye' a child?"

"I'm no child, you fucker! Stop dissing my height like this!---and yes. My daughter. She's my daughter, so don't even think about it!"

Surprisingly, there was no tears seen in your face. They didn't deserve your tears. These people needed to rot in hell, you mindlessly thought to yourself and irritatingly bit on the insides of your cheeks which slightly drew blood from how angered you were. Peering up at the man who was giving you an obvious snicker because he could read that you were succumbing from how they've caught you in hindsight and in a weak position.

The lion cub of Cintra stood behind the doorway, crying her eyes out from how impotent she was because of how everyone wanted her to stay back. Cirilla knows she could help but people who surrounded her wanted not to use her powers as she has yet to learn and control. Hence, she couldn't do anything but watch another person in her life be in a snare or better yet, drown to die in this person's own blood.

So far, hearing those words hurt her heart because she couldn't do anything when you were unconditionally risking your life for her not to be involved because that's what it's supposed to be.

To you, she was being treated more than she can ever expect; the title of a daughter that she didn't knew she missed to need, a mother despite of being not connected through bloodline. But, a woman who would care for her well-being just like how her grandparents did loved her.

Consider herself lucky even though how unfortunate her life began. She received a father and a mother that will risk everything just for her to be safe and she knew she was crying right now because she cared for you; she was concerned like how a daughter would.

Your jaw tightened because you wanted to bash their skulls over and over again until they were dead. They probably was from how you've intellectually murdered them inside your mind since the moment they arrived. You irately peered up at Tybalt, your forehead tightly creased, mouth in a tight frown as you gave him a death stare.

"You want Geralt of Rivia right? then, take me. He'll come after if you take me, just don't kill Jaskier and my daughter."

Jaskier hurriedly shook his head and audibly muttered out his negations to himself from what you had in mind. You were surrendering yourself to them. The bard promised to the witcher not leave your side as much as he would do, but his family was prevailed over the count of cavaliers who came; thinking Geralt was probably there to fight with. But, no. The opposed held a number and Jaskier wasn't mutated nor skilled to know any form of magic for defense.

He knew today will be a loss and after hearing your next words, the humble toubadour knew that you've risked your life again for the betterment of their kingdom and theirs.

"Tell Geralt I seriously need some saving---and I promise this will be the last time I'm needing him again," you forced a smile, looking at the bard with your vermillion all drenched in claret red liquid while trying to send off the meaning that you would be okay while you were away with them.

Nevertheless, he never heard the fast, anxious beating of your heart for what will welcome you to wherever they decide to put you in.

Rough hands shoved you forward, making you look away from Jaskier as you began to take grudging steps to where Tybalt's horse awaits, the image of your smile falling was the last that Jaskier can remember before you left, "---Also, tell him I have a very important secret to say so he better hurry up!"

Scattered skeletons were buried beneath the dank ground of the gloomy swamps. Nightfall has taken its course when Geralt arrived; surprising to say that he arrived earlier than he expected to. Some trees were dead while the others have been cut-off by their limbs from inexplainable reasons. From monsters who probably lived in the area and based on how the moon aligned, it was already midnight; close to morning.

The witcher was wounded. Abnormally drained and in fatigue from using his little spells to slaughter the Bloedzuiger; his arm, back and torso currently in pain due to its acidic blood that splattered him, slightly ruining the body of his armor and the under shirt he wore.

Geralt has used Aard and Igni to fight off the beast and his energy spiked low to the point that he could sleep standing on the ground. But, the idea of his family alone made him push the plan aside because his family was more important than his life.

The latter even took a faster route to arrive and slaughter the beast earlier than his estimated days.

He was just beyond drained and parched tonight.

Long, begrudging sighs left his lips. His hair was sticking all over, eyes still black from the potion he drank, clothes all wet from being shoved under the water and a face too grubby that also held burnt patches that will surely heal in no time. Though, some will probably earn him a scar or two. He was stalking towards his horse, his silver sword that was used for monsters on one hand when the witcher has heard a tiny step of footing that broke a twig, making him slightly turn his head to the quiet noise he heard.

This intruder took more cautious steps closer and he wanted to curse out loud for all the interruptions that made his life more complicated than it already is.

Human. Geralt knew it was human. This person even had a scent to it. She was a woman who had a strong floral fragrance; rose and earthy.

"You shouldn't be here," he lackadaisically declared to no one in particular as he sighed for the hundredth time this day. Heedful of the woman hiding behind a dead tree as he strolled to where Roach waited, ignoring her as he strolled.

Thus, the woman was strong enough to acknowledge a witcher in his full form as she decided to walk towards him, talking in pure fascination to have seen one in the flesh.

"A Witcher. I've heard tales of your kind. Though, I’ve heard new wicked bavardage from town that this particular beast has slayed my own kind for the sake of saving one. Wouldn’t it be wiser to choose the lesser evil or the greater good?" she scoffed before continuing, “---aren’t you quite miserly to have done such thing by killing less or maybe more than a dozen and salvaging yours?”

Geralt dropped the loot that he has ransacked from the monster, dropping them inside his leather bag with a scowl. This woman's tone of voice perking his ears that made him cease his packing.

"You were never just a mere epic," she sarcastically laughed in spite. The timbre of her voice thoroughly distinctive and familiar for Geralt to be incorrect. He gave her a sharp side-eye, his eyes jet black when his mind went in befuddlement after recognizing a face that he managed to memorize since the moment that this certain woman came in his life.

"You're the witcher they're finding. The butcher! You were the reason I was taken! Feckin' Geralt of Rivia, aye!"

She was you.

A face that always keeps his mind going in haywires. Features that can be considered as a strong weakness for the witcher because of how he'd easily let his guard down with just a glimpse of a face that could ruin his resistance over having another woman be prone of peril in his dangerous, hindering life.

Even only hours of being away from you; half a day to be precised. With just by seeing her face tempted him to reach out for what he longed for; to touch the face of the woman who'd felt deep sensations for him---accepting of what he actually was with no judgement in her mind. The ache and worry in his chest was not helping how he yearned to never leave you alone in the first place.

He couldn't help but take a step close to the woman who also had the same height as you. His obsidian eyes staring straight into her soul like he'd seen the devil and he was happy to worship; jaw tight as his lips came with a lour.

Geralt looked utterly monstrous for a person who wasn't used to seeing his kind.

"Midget?"

The woman instinctively took a step back despite of how she was running her mouth a while ago; fear shutting her confidence that she could confront him for bothering a life she also dreaded to live in. Her eyes filled with horror and disgust in which Geralt clearly has seen without the use of his doubled up heightened senses.

She was not his tiny mortal. This woman in front of him was beyond different. The real you wouldn't look at him in sheer revulsion; no profound emotion in those eyes that he was used to seeing.

She had her brows in a tight twist, sending him a nasty glare that got him humming out in distaste from an attitude he wasn't use to seeing with a face like yours, "I'm not a fucking midget! What a shitty name you've got me! Doesn't sound too nice to hear too! Ya' fuckin' brought me ill-fate!"

Geralt was quick to turn around his heel. Brooding once again from the bafflement that got him thinking again. Why did you have a person who looked exactly like you in their world?

"You're not her." he stated as a matter of fact, sounding confident with his assumptions because the witcher knows he is right. Geralt walked over to his horse, huffing out a breath off his nose from sheer displeasure as he heard the woman jogging to where he wanted to go.

"Apparently not. You're mistaking me with another unfortunate little lady then!"

"Who are you?" Geralt didn't bother to give her a glance no matter how he wanted to relieve the longingness to see your face; to know that you were safe in their home with Jaskier and Cirilla, hoping that everybody was protected and safe from anyone.

But, this woman with him was not you. He needed to remember that.

She tightly crossed her arms on her chest, eyeing the brooding man as sharply as the woman could with her maroon colored cloak strapped around her shoulders, the hood off when she'd arrived to have seen him, "The name's Savia, witcher."

"Why are you here?" he timidly grumbled, his silver sword in a scabbard after the fight. Roach neighed aloud, huffing out a breath when Savia was an arm close to her, acting like she didn't like her.

Geralt couldn't help but raise a brow from his horse's sudden actions, bringing up a hand to shush her with his fingers brushing along her mane.

Savia can't help but take a cautious step back at that; his horse's reaction making her feel unwelcome and unwanted by the pair. Though, her blabber mouth couldn't help but run on and on, being all chatty when she was in the verge of being chased down by gallants. Savia knew she could outrun them like she wasn't even being pursued from the start because she has been doing this for years; stealing lots of valuable things then never being found after as she can always escape from the brutal hands of lords, inn keepers, and a whole lotta' more.

"I've escaped! Stolen goods from the castle? Their riches? Serves them right for keeping me in prison! Oh! I could steal yer' coins too, if you want. But, now I shan't retrieve them after telling all my plans! I'm no fool! I'm a skilled thief. Sounds professional, isn't it?"

She couldn't help but giggle, utterly blowing with the wind from the occupation she had; confident regardless of how unseemly her job was to live. Though, Geralt didn't give any negative reactions because he was the last person to judge someone who had an indecent job just to live in their world.

He kills and hunts monsters for a living. It doesn't sound too appealing for a normal human, correct? Hence, he wasn't in the position to criticize a thief especially when this poacher looks entirely like you.

"---I've killed some knights out there just to escape, ye' know? Maybe a bunch! Ye’ can still count em with your fingers!" the witcher ceased ferreting around in his bag when he'd finally given her his attention. The color of his eyes subsiding and turning back to its normal hue. Gold in the middle of the night like star light illuminating her gloom and it made Savia stare at him in awe because of how he typically looked like without the potion and all.

Well, hearing the gossips about him from the women in the brothels and men who shared their wicked tales were really true because the witcher who stood before her right now was a complete knockout who had a terrifying shadow he left behind.

Savia couldn't help but pout her lips inquisitively, catching sight of his amber heavily examining her face with a gist of feeling that she couldn't recognize because of how she has never receive nor experienced the look of love. But, the woman was sure he was only blinded by the fact that the face she had held whatever he holds dear; a person he had in mind that he swore to protect, desire and care for.

Savia has never seen a witcher look considerate and warmhearted. The opposite of what people claimed his kind to be. He was the butcher of Blaviken. Perhaps, she have been a witness of his character changing with one simple cast of a face he claimed to be important.

She knew that midget was too significant to him when his face turned back to normal, stretched in a way that has him looking anxious, bothered and utterly worried from the words he heard.

"I'm wondering how I've been involved by a witcher I never seen or met. They were weird! Got me bruises because I never knew where you were and I couldn't tell where ye' live!" pause. Savia's lips emitted an awkward scoff, "---Those fucking gallants did a number on me for days that I have been imprisoned. They were thinking you would go and save me---oh, shiver me timbers! No obsidian--golden eyed witcher would save me from my demise!"

Geralt torpidly blinked back at her, his forehead tightly creasing; trying to deliberate what was happening. His thoughts immediately skipping to bad ideas and outcomes because of the fact that you had someone looking like yourself.

"They were shitty and off one's rocker! Especially that sorceress because she wanted to cast me under her spell, trying to get me examined because I didn't belong to their world---wondering if I had some sort of magic in me for her to possess. She was batshite crazy!"

He couldn't help but irritatingly shut his eyes, mutely giving himself a talk while he kept his mouth shut; not risking to be heard nor is this woman close enough for her to know what's inside his thoughts. Geralt chose to stay silent, breathing down long heavy inhales and exhales from the drawbacks that suddenly occurred.

Here was destiny starting again.

Savia loudly huffed before him, raising a cocky brow when she hadn't heard that deep, gravelly voice that sounded unfamiliar from the ones she has always been hearing, "Are witcha's always this silent? I've been doing all the talking! It's like you're a mute!"

The Witcher heard footfalls coming from a distance. Two gallants. It was only a pair for now and if the woman didn't took her flight before the entire horsemen arrives, she would be taken again and be behind bars in the fortress of Kaedwen.

Would he save the thief who made everything more complicated by looking exactly like you? Creating a mishap by stealing jewelry from the queen?

Everything he thought about would result in an intense migraine because Geralt know you'll be accused of a crime that was never done by his midget. Therefore, taking you in for captive would end up being like hitting two birds in one stone; they get to have him running off to where the castle is and also have the accused thief who didn't need no convincing because of how Savia showed up in their lives; ruining yours.

"Fuck. Why did you need to show up now and complicate things---even had to fucking steal ornaments from the queen with a face who is utmost valuable to me."

The frustrated question was sent to Savia who stepped back from the latter; his teeth suddenly barred and feral, sharply staring down at her. Totally irritated by what she'd done. Geralt heard metal being dragged out of its scabbard and it took him one turn of his head to be welcomed by two knights who was ready to pounce on him by seeing what he was.

One of his monikers slipped out of their tongues with such disgust and a hitch of their breath. There was no use for killing cavaliers tonight because this woman hardly have been involved in his life, yet he would still save because of having a weakness that seemed unfair for her to have.

Geralt raised his hand towards the taller knight who opened its mouth to shout at his fellow horsemen who held their torches from a far distance when suddenly a string of glowing, white line shot through his head; casting Axii for the men to take despite of how the witcher was feeling low with his energy that has been used prior to hours before they arrived.

It was a simple magical sign where it compromises hypnotic effect; it can be used to calm down people or animals, manipulate their minds or be used to hex enemies. A triangular white symbol surrounded the string of line which paved its way towards their heads; passing through both as they were momentarily stunned, acting as if they were puppets and Geralt had the strings.

Thus, after a while; Savia was astonished to see both armored men attacking each other like they were in a battleground and they were both forgotten.

Yet, it wouldn't last long.

"Witcher! What did you feckin’ do?!" she squeaked, heart beat racing from the adrenaline rush.

Geralt had not taken a second before jumping on his horse, gripping onto her reigns and pulling to turn her around, quickly nudging her to gallop towards the path back to where he could go home.

He needed to come back home. The heavy and worried feeling inside his chest wasn't just the result of overthinking. Geralt knows that there was something happening now and it wasn't good. He needed to know if you were safe, all in complete set of limbs when he sees you, if ever he could even get to again because the dreaded feeling was rising higher in such a toxic amount that would make him blame himself when you're gone.

Geralt couldn't even think straight for even contemplating about the idea that you were gone and out of his reach.

"Leave before they actually kill you. It can only last for seconds due to the energy left in me,"

He'd run off before Savia can even acknowledge his kindness. The Butcher of Blaviken has helped her escape. He wasn't a murderer nor did he hurt her.

"Geralt of Rivia, right?!" she yelled out to no one in particular after watching Geralt leave with his horse. The simple yell has caught the attention of more gallants, seeing the flames of their torches walking their way through the forest and through the swamps that got her zipping her mouth shut. Those two hypnotized gallants falling on the swamps behind her from beating each other to death.

Savia couldn't help but hum in interest, whisper-yelling her next words as if the witcher can hear her amongst his troubled heart.

"---Thank you for letting me escape! you're helpful after all!"

Geralt please axii my puxii LMAO. FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethough over the tags mean I couldn’t find your blog, bb’s.)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex​, @britty443, 

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​, @crazybutconfidentaf​

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​

[fuckingdeadbutroyal]

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 -

“How long has this been going on?”, Damians voice was flat. An outsider would maybe even perceive it as bored, but his brothers heard him. Damian Wayne was horrified. “Five and a half days now, to be precise. We have heard of the earthquake but we didn’t know about the metas. That’s why we’re here, save the citizens and catch the-” “How did we not know of any metas in Paris? Why are we only coming to help them now? Look at this place!”, Nightwing interrupted his father, in Jasons opinion rightfully so. Paris was not what he remembered from the posters and booklets he had seen. The city could have lost WW2 and even then it would probably look better than it currently did. “That’s international matters, we’re not even meant to be here but it got out of control so I asked Red Robin to investigate. Now stop complaining and start working.”, Bruce scolded his adoptives and, leaving no room for further interruption, began giving out orders. Dick, Jason, Stephanie and Damian were on citizen-saving duty, while Tim stayed at the manor and guided them per earpiece. Bruce, Cass, Duke and Barbara were on metawatch™, meant to collect more information on the cause of destruction, aswell as the heroes Tim had mentioned in his report. One final tech-check later the formerly crowded rooftop was deserted and Paris had a new crew of support in form of bat-themed vigilantes.

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

Jason felt...sad. Deeply, desperatly heartbroken. He remembers feeling that way when he first discovered his fathers lack of avenging the death of his second son. But now? Of course, the sight he was currently enduring was horrific. He was sorry it had to come to this, frustrated his hands just weren’t enough to help every Parisian in pain. But that desperation? His inhumane tiredness? The way his whole body just felt numb, as if he were in so much pain his senses just wouldn’t- no couldn’t keep up? He knew it was out of place, his brothers were okay after all. Even Dick, the most emotional one out of his siblings, was much more focused than Jason. He knew it had to do with his soulmate, at least he guessed as much. The thought of them being somewhere in this city, hiding in one of those hyper-secure shelters he had seen while rummaging through the collapsed buildings and pulling out everyone he could find...it was unnerving. Though somehow he knew that that wasn’t the case. 

Upon first taking in the sight of Paris’ ruins Red Hood just knew where he was and what streets he was aiming for. He knew where the shelters were, could guide the civilians towards them and even recognized some of the buidings, even though there was nothing left but dust and dirt. Jason had a gut feeling telling him that all those things weren’t actually his knowledge. It had to be his soulmates. They knew everything he needed to know about the city, they recognized it from above. But one piece of information, which now that Timmy has properly updated them about Paris’ situation should have been absolutely unavoidable, was missing. What do those shelters look like from the inside? 

Why doesn’t his soulmate know?

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

Marinette was on autopilot. It has been four days since her parents death. She hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten and hasn’t stopped moving. Chat has already collapsed twice, which ended up with her carrying him to one of their recharging-shelters in the water and spending ungodly amounts of time trying to find food and water for him aswell as holding him in place while he slept, hoping to avoid his otherwise certain death by drowning. “What a sad end it would be”, the girl thought to herself, “all that effort, all that pain, and we could just loose it all to a petty accident. Not that there is much left to save...”

She wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but Ladybug, the hero and saviour of Paris, did no longer care about winning. She didn’t think of saving those people who were praying in her name, praying to her. She didn’t believe in god and oh Kwami did she not believe in herself. What she did believe in, though, was revenge. She wanted to kill that dusty bitch, even if it was the last thing she would do. Ladybug didn’t care about the victim. She knew for herself that if she were the one who did this to her beloved City of Love, she could no longer live with herself. She wanted to kill the akuma and even though a voice deep inside her was telling her otherwise, trying to stop her and arguing that this was not what her parents would have wanted, Marinette did not care. She was going to free the petite akuma and then tear it apart with her very own teeth. And guess who’s next? “That’s right, I’m coming for your ass, Shitmoth.”

Her voice woke the boy next to her. She hasn’t even realised how her train of thought has surfaced into the real world until Plagg, who was sleeping on the blondes stomach, started grumbling in despleasure about how his pillow shouldn’t be moving. Adrien sat up, not meeting Ladybugs eyes as he took the cheese she was handing him and giving it to the suddenly awake and alert Kwami who, as always, swallowed it whole. It was kind of nice, reassuring, watching him do something Adrien has formerly perceived as highly annoying. Back then, before “The End of the World”, as he now called it, has fallen from the sky. Or rather dug it’s way out from six feet under, since the main cause of destruction were the earthquakes. Destruction. Thinking of it made Adriens gag-reflexes act up. He hated this akuma. Not only for the obvious reasons. No, Adrien hated how useless he himself felt because of it. Why should he cataclysm something while he’s trying to stop Dirtface from doing so? It was highly contraproductive and Chat could not stand it. It was like watching the person you hate most, fan-girl about something you love. Kind of ruins the experience. Adrien didn’t know if he could use his power the way he did before, ever again. The only upside to it was, that he didn’t have to recharge as often and was therefore capable of protecting his partner whenever she had to hide. 

As long as he didn’t fucking collapse from exhaustion, of course.

“I fainted again, didn’t I?”, he asked, shame crawling into his every pore. He was hoping to avoid that. The first time already came at the price of his identity, though luckily Ladybug has been quick enough to hide him before anyone else could catch a glimpse. Adrien wasn’t aware of it, but once Mari managed to securely position him on one of the upside-down-boats benches, she fell into a hysterical fit of laughter. She cried, she felt as if she were about to choke, as if she were about to finally explode into all those shattered pieces her heart now consisted of. Her laughter, though, showed none of these emotions. An outsider would be afraid to come near her, her parents would not be able to recognize her, she herself would have been disturbed by that sight. If the Joker were there to see it, he would have had to give his crown to her, for her laugh was scarier than any Jokers could ever be. 

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

Marinette just nodded and waited for Chat to suit back up. She didn’t think of his collapses as embarassing. Instead, Ladybug was highly impressed by his skill and endurance. She knew he didn’t have the luxury of someone taking the hit for her, sleeping and eating instead of her. For so long Mari has been trying to convice herself that she realy was, just like Adrien, just like Chat, alone. She wanted to believe that her soulmate was dead, wanted to live and not give a damn about that extra source of pain, which is the only thing she has ever thought of, when it came to feeling any kind of relationship towards her bonded. How could she love what brings her torture? How could she want to love the pain? Now though, with death being all around her, no-one she could turn to and time playing against her...Marinette was relying on them. She would not be able to surive this without her soulmate sleeping instead of her, would have probably fallen to the hands of malnutrition, if it weren’t for them feeding her through that inexplicable bond between their souls. 

Adrien did not have that. He was born without a soulmate, which wasn’t anything unusual. After all, more than half of the worlds population were either born without a soulmate or simply existed during a different century than their significant others. 

Just like Nino, just like Chloe, just like Nathaniel, Kagami and Luka: Adrien isn’t going to stay by Ladybugs side forever. She knew that now. That was okay, though. Because now she was certain of one thing. Her soulmate was alive and, according to her intensifying tiredness as well as that energizing tingling keeping her body up and working, they were on their way to save her.

That carries a tiny problem though.

She had to avoid getting help. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

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

HI! First of: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback, I am so fucking grateful you have no idea (or you do? idk. THANK YOU ILY)

This story has gotten much longer than I had planned but tbh I love it. There’s a part 3 and probably a part 4 coming, Though I’ll post it tomorrow ‘cause I gotta write it and like, live life a bit.

Critique and any kind of feedback is very welcome!

I will most probably continue Jasonette July, this is so much more fun than I expected. So see you tomorrow \o/

Thanks for reading^^

P.S.: There's finally some proper Jasonette on the horizon☄

[ahmedmootaz]

Magica is trapped in an alternate timeline where Scrooge never became the richest duck in the world.

I-It’s been five thousand years...but finally, finally, I have finished writing, @veryman ! It’s been around six months, and for that I am sorry, but I had little time to write lately.

Either way, I finished the prompt which you sent me, and I’d like it if you would tell me your feedback! I expanded a bit on what you gave me; I added Poe as a secondary protagonist, and I added a bit more before the disappearance of Scrooge, and I do hope you do not mind. But regardless, I am eager to hear your feedback! I appreciate every comment I get, so do leave one, please. Again, my sincerest apologies for the wait.

Here’s the story:https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333367

And for anyone who does not want to visit Archive of Our Own for whatever reason, here’s the story on Tumblr! Just note the italics don’t go over too well.

Mount Vesuvius was like a wonderfully drawn painting; it managed to capture many elements at once, and yet showed little of them at a time. Its grey, ash-covered surface was only stopped by the occasional greenery or shrubs, grown from the rain's puddles on its cliffs. A towering mountain, its silhouette gave a grandiose sense to the city it was in. The contrast between the calm forests below it and the harsh towering structure, like any great painting, only added to the beauty of the panorama it created.

And, of course, like any great painting, it hid a secret. A teeny, tiny secret, really; it was a volcano. With enough power to completely melt the colourful villages surrounding it, alongside the better part of Naples. No one often went to the top, as its unpredictable eruption patterns made it a dangerous venue. Besides, the summit was completely barren, with only the rare lizard or the few bushes up there. Only a madman would even think to consider it "hospitable."

Well, barring the small, comfortable looking wooden house on its top. That looked hospitable enough. Old and nearly falling apart, it was a miracle it didn't need supports at this point. It was as if it was held by magic. On this summit, there was nothing. A cold, harsh breeze that encouraged none to remain there, and the dead atmosphere certainly clashed against the small farm and the clothes left to dry in the sun. The unusual sight would perhaps intrigue a traveller who managed to get to the summit, but the few crashed cars next to the hut would probably dissuade them from going any further.

In this calm wasteland, where the air never relaxed, every second more tense than the last, silence reigned supreme, utoppab-

-"BWAHAHAHA! I did it, Poe! I did it! At last, I managed to brew the perfect potion! It'll finally give the Lucky Dime to its rightful owner, destroy my greatest enemy and make me the greatest sorceress on earth!", well, it was dominant for a moment, at least. The victory cries from this little abode came from none other than Magica DeSpell, the solitary sorceress who called it her home.

Standing before a large cauldron, a large potion-book beside her and several jars of materials arranged in a neat order on the table next to her, her joy was a sick, intoxicating one, filled with villainy and vengeance. On that table stood a raven, much larger than the average one, almost twice the size, with its only distinct feature being a small summer hat, black with a white stripe going around it.

-"Yes, very wonderful, Mistress Magica.", adding to the unusual situation, the raven spoke back, both admiring and giving the sorceress in front of him a reprobating glare. "Though I have to admit, it wasn't easy very much to gather the ingredients. We almost lost our lives three times too much getting these things...", he added, turning his neck to the pots and bottles of the materials they gathered throughout the month. The sorceress, however, appeared irritated.

-"Oh, for goodness' sake! We're alone, Ratface, why can't I call you by your real name? If you keep pestering me with that, then I'll have no choice but to keep reminding you of your awful grammar.", she complained, hunching her back a bit, an invisible pang of guilt hitting her chest for a second before she shook it off.

Magica DeSpell was known for many things, but guilt was, perhaps unsurprisingly, not one of them. It wasn't a trait preferred by Villainesses such as herself. An exception to that rule, however, was her brother, Poe. Or as he went by these days, Ratface.

Once a regular duck like her, he was the closest person she had left. He'd accompany her on pretty much anything, alongside her raids on Scrooge. One fateful day however, a spell ricocheted of a wall and hit him, and she never forgave herself since. It was supposed to hit a blank! But of course Scroogie had to have a mirror behind him...why wouldn't he? At this point, everything she did was always countered by him somehow...And of course the spell had to be an irreversible one. Why wouldn't it have been?

-"Well, this time he'll pay...", she mumbled to herself, having forgotten about the outside world for a second.

-"Hm?", the raven inquired, and when she ignored his curiosity, he gave a glare before speaking. "We must speak like this, Mistress, because otherwise we may end up revealing our identities by accident in front of someone who shouldn't them know.", he explained for the umpteenth time at this point, trying to redress his hat with his wings. It was difficult to get used to them at first, however, he eventually managed to somewhat use them as hands. "And we don't want these people to know, because they can black-mail us. And because I don't want anyone discover that now I am a raven.", he added, ignoring the mumbling from his 'master'.

-"Yes, yes. Whatever, Ratface. Besides, you don't get to lecture me; I am the boss-lady after all, eh?", she shot back, enjoying the eyes of her 'familiar' as they narrowed and his beak as he grit it.

-"While that may be true,", he started, a bit calmer than you'd expect, not wanting to lose this teasing contest, "I also have my rights to input my optional completely suggestions, boss-lady, and I believe they have been proven to be quite useful in the past.", he added, stopping for moment and looking at the sorceress in front of him, who fully turned to him and gave him a wide, fake grin.

-"Hmm...They're fine points, but is there something that reaaaaally to force me to listen to you?", she repeated, hoping to break his constant mantra of hiding his identity. Partly because she wanted to be able to call her brother...her brother, y'know, 'call a duck a duck' sort of deal, and partly to escape this guilt she felt by teasing him, trying to forget her guilt for the moment.

Poe wasn't one to care much what people thought of him. He was a man that went on his way and never looked back. Too many times, anyways. They were basically a dream-team until this stupid raven stuff happened. But now, ever since that incident, he merely avoided anyone who knew of his existence and kept this fake-name. She suspected it was out of shame, and it weighed heavy on her, trust her. She tried waving these thoughts away as she watched the bird in front of her almost simmer at this point.

-"B-Because, dearest mistress, me-am a bit older than you in raven-years, which gives me a-", he stopped his imminent rant, sniffing something in the air. "THE BREW!", he yelled, dragging the tall magician's attention and making her run to the pot, which was on a gas cooker. Hey, they had the old log-chimney pot, but they were modern magicians, and when they were pressed on time, it was simply easier than to collect logs or buy them. Freaking inflation and rising wood prices...

-"Alrightalrightalright, so now we...uh, the lizard tail, sewn with tarantula silk to a lizardfish tail, we put it in...", Magica mumbled to herself, picking up the ingredient and throwing it in. Trust her when she said tarantula silk wasn't cheap, but the results were going to be so, so worth it. "And we mix things up until it turns dark-blue.", she finished, bringing a wooden spoon and turning it in the boiling, sickly-yellow liquid.

-"That's it? No 'innocent's blood' this time?", the black bird next to her spoke as he moved closer to the pot. She shook her head, knowing where he was getting at. For some reason, a lot (a lot) of spells needed blood for one reason or another, and it often had to be 'pure duck blood'. It often was an issue for most accomplished sorcerers to find it, and despite it being an advantage to the pair, they didn't really enjoy sticking needles into their own arms and using their blood...

As he sighed, relieved at what meant that he wouldn't have to take a pinch of his blood this time, as they did alternate that role, he watched the viscous brew boil more ferociously, unnaturally strong as it started getting darker and darker while the duck brewing it kept stirring and stirring, carefully avoiding the splashing from the bubbles.

-"Alright, Ratface!", she announced as the potion's colours darkened in front of their eyes, her voice going low and becoming more and more sinister by the second, "This is the Magnum Opus of an entire month's work! The Bougeaia Autrepart!", she proudly boasted, a smile growing on her pale, green-ish face.

She quickly moved her hand to shut off the gas, probably waiting for the awe her partner-in-sharing-the-household would give her. Not that he did so much, as he wasn't one to be entirely surprised by her actions given his time with her, but when he did, it made all of her effort a lot more worth it, if only to see a dumbfounded expression on his face while she proudly explains her plan.

-"Very well. It is one of the most difficult potions a magician can make, and we have a quantity very large. It is perhaps one of our better devised plans.", he devilishly added, not really that surprised. She found it hard to blame him when they both worked for around 25 days to gather the ingredients and the money; somewhere down the line she must've told him. Or maybe he read up on what they were going to create.

-"Indeed it is, and now, hand me the doll, Ratface!", she commanded, raising a clenched fist for dramatic effect, He shook his head at the dramatic display and went to the other end of the table he stood on, picking up a small doll that vaguely resembled Scrooge McDuck  with his claw and handing it to his 'mistress'. "Just be a bit careful. It wasn't easy to make this thing.", she called out, cringing at the inelegant handling the raven gave the doll.

-"Oh, tell me about it. I was with you at the Hydra's lair, you know that? And I gathered half of the Mortal Sand we got there, so don't think I don't know how precious is this.", he complained, remembering something for a second, "Speaking of which, you never did make up for that hat I lost there.", he reprimanded, trying to cross his wings. He didn't have much success, but it looked good enough, and he couldn't ask for more, really.

-"Yeah, maybe later.", she ignored him, and before he could begin scolding her for the umpteenth time today, she picked up a ladle and started submerging it in this 'Bougeaia Autrepart.', taking care not to spill any on herself before she started coating the small doll in her hand with the liquid, watching as the dark blue colour got embedded in its cloth.

-"You know, I'd like a quick reminder on what we're doing here before we get started. Don't want another plan where I have to figure out the details as we go on, because those just work so wonderfully.", Ratface...or, well...Poe? Whatever, he asked, looking a bit worried as his sister laid the doll on the ground in a neat and clean corner or their household, one that was made for spells which required some space.

-"What, Alzheimer's gotten to you that quick?", she shot back at him, not daring to look at him before she finishes laying the doll on the ground. When she noticed he wasn't going to argue with her, she started explaining. "Honestly, we were just talking about it...but fine, here's the general outline: We both agreed that taking Scrooge is pretty difficult on its own, yes? So how about a world without Scrooge in the first place? The Bougeaia Autrepart is designed to move people into other places, but with some of the additions we've made, in combination with this little vodoo doll, it's going to be rather interesting, and we can remove Scrooge from this world!", she repeated the plan they'd agreed on, trying again for her dramatic accent.

-"Right, right. And we're just going to take the dime in his absence.", he completed, scratching his 'chin'. "I don't know, Ma- Uh, Mistress, our luck with reality-altering spells is pretty...", he hesitated, trying to find an accurate description of their experiences.

-"Is pretty much the definition of the word 'failure' in every single language on this earth?", she finished with him, somewhat bitterly.

-"Well, when you put it that way, I'll just have to agree.", he agreed, shrugging.

-"Yes, yes, I know, but trust me, this time this time, it'll be different!", she argued back, somewhat on the defensive. "See, this time, with Scrooge never actually in this world, it can't go back to bite us; we're not playing with the rules against Scrooge, he's not there in the first place.", she laughed, basking in the glory of her flawless plan. "...You're still not impressed, are you?", she narrowed her eyes as she stared at the raven, who seemed lost in thought.

-"I don't know...these things are so vaguely written in the books, and always it turns out to be un-complete. We practically re-wrote half of our tomes, remember?", as it turns out, several of the Elder Sorcerers were, believe it or not, villains, and trying to keep the most knowledge to themselves, their writings were often incomplete, especially the bigger spells. They had to applaud their tenacity at first, but a few failed plans later, it started becoming less interesting and more devastating.

-"Well, yes,", Magica admitted, looking at the floor for a moment, "But the worst possible thing that could happen here is it not working, or being temporary. It can't be that bad."

-"I mean...The offer of Scrooge just poof-ing away is tempting...And I can't think of a too terrible outcome...", he slowly came around, and the green-ish duck immediately jumped on the opportunity to convince him. Well, not so much convince him so much as it was to quickly to the spell before he starts thinking too much about it.

"See? You were just being stupid, But worry not, my dear familiar, I, Magica DeSpell, am not without mercy, and I will forgive this outrageous way of talking if you just help me do this spell as quickly as possible.", she proudly boasted, bringing a hand to rest on her chest. His blank stare gave her the impression that he wasn't all too impressed with her gloating. "Just come here and let me finish the recitation, alright?!", she snapped at him, having had enough of his cynical behaviour.

-"What, with these clothes? Shouldn't we prepare for something or-", he started, looking at her 'battle-clothes': her cloaked witch robe, stained with their various ingredients. But before he could even finish his sentence, she'd already turned to the wall, sat on her knees and opened her arms to both sides, as if she was awaiting an embrace.

-"Too late; I'm starting it now.", she turned her head back to him, sticking her tongue out for half a second and ignoring the 'Wait!' he produced. "O' sanguina del mon enemmi mortel, repondra O' appels que t'entendra, O' abyssum qu'attend, repond à ma voca!", she started the chant, immediately letting the room darken and letting loose some purple sparks from the lifeless doll, which started levitating. "Bring my greatest wish true; with the final words of my mouth, McDuck shall be gone like a moth!", she suddenly spoke, the doll spinning a bit too violently for her taste.

The room kept on darkening, and some of the pots and containers she had began to hit each other. Which was basically the same thing that happened with every other spell nowadays. It lost its original impact. Regardless, she felt Ratface beside her, and the doll started emanating even stronger sparks, making a dull, constant humming that kept getting louder and louder.

Her breathing got heavy for a moment, alongside her head, and she felt herself blacking out as if something was choking her. The air grew heavy for one fateful moment, and then with a 'zap', everything returned to normal. Her breathing suddenly cleared, and she took a deep breath to celebrate it. She noticed Ratface also took a gasp. Apparently, this one didn't just affect the caster, but the entire area. That was something they'd have to add to the spell book. She hoped there weren't too many others.

-"...That's it? Feels rather underwhelming, but maybe it's my experience with spells that affect the caster.", her brother suddenly managed out. Of course his first action after this would be bragging. Why wouldn't it?

-"Oh, zip it, feathers, I heard your panting. Bragging doesn't change the reality.", she looked at him as he felt his small hat and straightened his feathers, some of which had puffed out due to his quick breathing.

-"And so I shall, Mistress, O' queen of humility, if only the entire world is humble as you were!", he praised her, raising his wing up above him, as if to glorify the duck beside him. "Then you'll find out how terrible you are at boasting.", he added under his breath, a wide grin on his beak.

-"Oh why you...!", she got on her legs and reached for him, hoping to catch him, but he was faster than her, and his wings were infinitely more developed, and so he took to the skies...or, well, to their roof, avoiding her grasp and yet flying just out of reach. "Just wait until I've had my hands on you, you walking grammatical error! I'll pinch each and every one of your feathers off!", she yelled after him, shooting a few simplistic spells at him, which he avoided with ease.

-"Sure, blame the italian guy you forced to learn English in two weeks, typical.", he shot back, his wide grin still present, the only spells catching him barely grazing his tail. A few moments later, she gave up on de-feathering her brother, stopping to take her breath.

-"Oh, bugger off, you've had far more time to practice. You're just messing with me.", she countered, looking at him as he lightly flapped above her. She turned her head away from him with a frown and looked at the outside. Yep, still as sunny as ever. It wasn't really ideal weather for staying inside, but villainy did not take vacations!...Well, that was a lie, but she'd take one right after her great success with this plot. "The outside!", she suddenly yelled out, running for her door and opening it, walking onto her 'Welcome' mat before stopping and looking around.

-"Uh, Mistress?", her familiar said as he landed on her shoulder, something he'd been practising for a while now; he didn't hit her head anymore. "Is there something about the sun...?", he suggested, looking around him. The same small magical farm, their clothes were in the same position, and the same pile of crashed cars.

-"I don't know...Guess I thought there'd be some change, I guess.", she answered, scratching her head. "Which isn't that smart. Now what? How do we know if something's happened?", she asked him, turning back to enter her home.

-"...Probably from the bald, skinny vulture we have on our dart-board now.", her helper suddenly noted, and she turned her head to the wall where she had Scroogie's head on display. As a picture, unfortunately, but all in time. What interested her, however, was that her nemesis' picture's was now replaced by a vulture. An ugly one, too. And it's not like Scrooge was Mr.America, but this one had wrinkles.

-"What the heck? I thought the spell removed Scroogie from the world! What did that have to do with this chuckleschmuck?", she walked to the picture on their dart-board, focusing on their apparently new rival, who had a few darts scattered around various parts of his face.

-"Unless...", the raven on her shoulder started, bringing a wing to his face and trying to imitate a knuckled fist. "Unless it removed him from this timeline in first place, after, making someone else become the richest duck in the world. Or richest vulture in the world.", he theorized, his tone becoming a little too aggressive at the end. "Another addition to the tomes...", of course. It could never be that easy. Why would it be?

-"...Great.", well, at least she could openly complain about it this time, given that there was no warning of this beforehand. She brought a hand to her face and quietly facepalmed, shaking her head for a bit. "So we still have some old, ugly miser we have to take care of. And we don't have any memory of fighting this guy.", truly a situation that couldn't be envied. The one time the casters of the spell are unaffected by the changes to the world, it happens in a world where they'd do better to have some memories of the changes. Well, she couldn't say it was the worst thing a spell has hidden from them, truth be told, but still.

-"Well, what now?", ever the planner, the bird on her shoulder asked the only question that could be asked. He narrowed his eyes and extended his neck a bit from where it was, trying to read some writing underneath the picture. It used to scare Magica  a bit whenever he did that, now she mostly got used to it. Mostly. Stupid bird biology creeping her out. "What are we going to doing to this...Bradford Buzzard?", he squinted a bit, making out the letters. He then turned to their T.V. with a curious motion. "Ma-uh, Mistress, look."

As the green-feathered duck turned her head, she noticed something. They had stolen their T.V. from one of Scroogie's enterprises, mostly out of spite. But their current television had "Buzzard Enterprises" on it. Apparently, this vulture had truly inherited everything the old miser had, including their rage. She felt a slight tingling in her chest, but she ignored it to focus on the more important matters they had at hand now.

-"So, apparently we're struggling to get the dime from this old man?", well, considering they're not rich right now, and that Poe was still a raven, that meant they still had the same problems as they did with Scrooge. Not good, if you ask her.

-"And apparently he, too, managed to turn me into raven.", Ratface spat out, growing very, very bitter. Unsurprising, really; this 'Bradford' did not seem to be able to move much. How did he manage to turn Poe into a raven this time, then? "Besides, are we trying to get his dime? I'm certain not what we were doing in this timeline up to this point, and I don't suppose we've been writing our memoirs to help us out.", he...uh, he joked? Deadpanned? His tone wasn't too amused, by the looks of things. Not that she could blame him, given how things weren't quite going according to plan.

-"You tell me.", the sorceress sighed, not really in the mood for the demoralisation Poe could offer at this time. He didn't mean to be such a pessimist (probably), but his constant remarks didn't do much to improve the mood. Her eyes then spotted a small purple ball on the ingredients' table. It was a small teleportation spell, using some materials from the area where she wanted to go to, it was a nice substitute for those who both lacked the Teleportation branch of magic and didn't have time to travel by broom. "That's it!", she suddenly yelled, getting up and nearly dropping her brother off of her shoulder.

-"W-What's it? What are you-"

-"We'll go pay this Bradford a nice little visit, and we'll see what he's really made of! We already prepared to go to the Bin, what's the worst that could happen?", she encouraged both him and herself, picking up the teleportation spell to Scroogie's bin and another one back to her home, quickly pocketing them in her robe and scavenging for some offensive spells to take with her, alongside her Sumerian amulet, of course. "Do not answer that!", she warned her brother, earning a sceptical look. "Listen, we've seen almost everything from Scroogie, we'll see what we can do this time, and then...well, I don't know, but we'll manage!", she finished triumphantly, quickly putting on her heels and going out of her house, stopping mid-way through her throw of the teleportation spell. "...You're not convinced, are you?"

-"Are you?", well, he wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right, either. Everything deserved a shot. Even if that thing had a very small chance of working. Maybe. Probably. Listen, Magica DeSpell was many things, but she wasn't willing to give up now! She never did, perhaps to her own detriment, but it wasn't this old vulture that was going to stop her now, she fought against Scrooge McDuck, this was barely even a challenge!

-"Could you not rain on my parade for five minutes?", what was a challenge, was keeping Poe positive on this mission.

-"Alright, alright. Here we go, Mistress! Go get that fool!", he put on an enthusiastic façade, making the sorceress grin as she resumed her movement, throwing the spell on the ground with a large 'Bang!'. Aquamarine smoke came out and covered the area where they both stood, and when it was gone, so were the both of them.

Now, it was only a matter of time before they faced Bradford.

Bradford Buzzard was perhaps the single most boring person she'd ever had the displeasure of fighting.

It wasn't that he was difficult to fight against, oh no, in fact, she was surprised he managed to stop them for so long in this timeline, but he always played by the book! Not a single interesting move! He didn't boast, make dramatic moves, or do anything Scroogie did, really. All he did was avoid, dodge, and stand behind his fancy machines. Which...yeah, okay, it wasn't that bad, but he was terribly uninteresting to fight against. The Bin stayed in its regular shape, and so did most of Duckburg, though it had a bit of a fancier design when it came to buildings.

Regardless, Bradford didn't even try to seem interested. He always seemed (and most likely, was) always annoyed, always spiteful, and just...indifferent. He didn't care about anything she and Poe did, he just wanted it to end. His immediate reaction to their arrival wasn't to fight...it was to sigh and complain about how he didn't have time for them. Which wasn't only rude, but incredibly hurtful. He had no idea how much these teleportation spells cost, and she truly did her best to deliver a spectacular entrance to her foes. The least he could do was at least seem interested.

The worst part is that apparently, in this timeline, they had never plainly told him they needed his dime; they were after his fortune. Which she probably realized they did because they wanted a challenge, considering the fact that the moment they asked for the dime, he handed it over.

She was so dumbfounded at first that she thought it to be a prank. A trap, even. But no, apparently Bradford cared just as little about his first dime, talking about how "He can always make a copy." or some such thing. If she didn't know any better, she'd have said he was searching for an opportunity to get rid of it, and yet a quick curse-check from her part revealed no dangers. He was just...boring. And it's not that he was scared of their power, at least that might've made up for something, he just gave them the dime and told them to go off.

So there she was, back in her hut, Lucky Dime in hand, an unbelieving expression across her unfocused eyes as she sat on her television's couch, still trying to reflect on the events of the day, trying to see if she misunderstood a word or a euphemism from the vulture's monotonous voice. She found none.

-"I mean, it's been a while when we saw the Dime last, Mistress.", throughout the long silence, from their unceremonious return to them now sitting, unable to decide what comes next, this was the first thing Poe muttered. It wasn't bad as an encouragement, but it didn't quite catch Magica's attention, either.

-"Mhm.", she mumbled absently, not even opening her beak.

-"Sure, it wasn't as spectacular as we both thought, but that doesn't matter! Do you know what this means, Mistress? Do you know just how much power we have in our hands?!", now, Poe was known for many things following his unfortunate transformation, but optimism was not one of them. That actually made her turn some of her attention to him. "It's the end of the old-centuries rivalry between us DeSpells and the...Mc...Ducks...", he slowly realized, opening his eyes a bit more. It wasn't the fact that they had gotten the Dime so easily which was bothering Magica, it was that she didn't even know if it was worth it.

She spent little under fifty-five years fighting against Scroogie. At some point, both of them knew that there would be no Scrooge without Magica, and there would be no Magica without Scrooge. Every single victory she had in her life was directly or indirectly caused by a desire to earn revenge on Scrooge, he was her greatest goal, and defeating him would be her Magnum Opus. Years upon years of work, blood, tears...all for some vulture to hand this over.

-"...Is the Dime even useful now?", she muttered, her eyes going to Poe, pleading, almost unsure of her every word. He seemed to have gotten the gist of why this victory in particular was unsatisfying, but now he simply blinked at her, not wanting to cause her any grief. "I-I mean, why did we even go after his Dime in particular instead of killing him or...or whatever?", her voice shaky. She knew the answer. She always did. She just had to hear it from someone she could trust.

-"We wanted it because it was Scrooge's the most important coin; it was his first, imbued strong emotional attachment, and we could use that attachment for our magic, alongpart the hate we had for him.", he repeated their goal slowly, trying to get where this was going. "Using the immense power extracted from it, we would do as we pleased. We'd turn me back into a duck, turn stones into gold...its possibilities were endless.", he finished, the massive smile on his beak dropping for a bit.

Bradford had handed them the Dime without a hitch. If he had any attachment to the Dime, then it wasn't enough for him to care about it. This would mean the Dime was useless...it couldn't do them a thing, or if it could, then it was severely weakened. Even if it wasn't, it didn't...it didn't feel as if they earned it. Okay, this was stupid, since they were villains, after all, they weren't about being fair, but after all these years, having such an underwhelming encounter...it just left a sour taste in her mouth.

-"Who gives a flying duck?!", a groggy, loud caw was the answer she got to her suspicions. "So what, we had a disappointing enemy, we have the Dime of the richest du- vulture in the world! So what if it not has emotional attachment, we'll find another object with emotional attachment! Anything would be better than Scrooge!", he yelled, sensing the conflict his sister felt and trying to set the record straight. "Anything would be better than being stuck as a crow."

The speed with which she spun her head to him could perhaps snap many necks, but Magica didn't care for the pain in her neck so much as she focused on the bird on her shoulder. She knew exactly what he was getting at; Poe was stuck as a crow for nearly five years at this point. He never loved his situation for even a second ever since the accident with McDuck and his two ducklings. Throughout these years, he worked with her for the Dime less out of a general desire for villainy and a want to help her, he worked with her because he also wanted the Dime's power.

And now he probably feared she was going to throw all away, just because wanted a 'real' fight.

-"R-Ratface! How dare you suggest I'd do something like that!", she vehemently denied. She then resisted the urge to slap herself because she just admitted to something he was yet to accuse her off. She stared at him, the eye he turned at her undecipherable. He remained silent for a moment before speaking up.

-"Do you want us to talk, Magica?", he offered, and she looked surprised. He seldom called her by her real name, and it was often a sign she could call him by his. She swallowed before nodding, as if the word 'Yes' would take too much energy out of her. He nodded in return, jumping off of her shoulder and landing beside her. "What's the issue, Magica?"

-"It's...It's stupid. I know it is. You wouldn't approve, and I know you taught me that the only good victory is a quick and easy one, but...but...It's just so maddening, you know?", she began, hunching her back and turning her head to him, a twinge of uncertainty in her voice. "I spend all my life hunting Scrooge McDuck, wanting his head on my wall, and when I finally win, I don't even win against him. I don't even know if I got the right object in this world.", she complained, bringing her hands to her face and covering it. Her entire life was built on waiting for this one, singular moment! All of her moves, triumphs and losses. So why wasn't she satisfied?!

-"...I get what you're saying.", the raven replied after a moment, trying to understand her, apparently. "I get it. It feels as if we were robbed of our moment, doesn't it?", her sat down on the couch, trying his best to imitate a regular duck sitting. She hesitated before nodding, almost afraid of his answer. "...I cannot say it doesn't leave an undelicious taste, to be honest. We've worked so hard for this moment. And yet, what other choice do we have? What were you planning on doing? What do we have to gain from a Scrooge in this world?", he questioned, not with a hostile tone, but a rather intrigued one, as if he truly wanted to know more about this situation they found themselves in.

-"I- You know what? Forget it, we'll melt this dime and find the strongest emotional object here-"

-"Answers, Magica.", he firmly repeated, turning his head to her.

-"I don't know!", she yelled out, partly angry, partly anxious. "How should I know? I spent all of my life fighting Scroogie and I'm not even the one to take him out! It's all a stupid spell...And I can't bring him back, because this stupid spell will account for the past, and that means the source of our power, the one in my hand right now, would be gone.", she started laughing out of desperation, holding the Dime up in the air and trying to channel some energy into it. It emitted some energy, sure, but it wasn't as strong as you'd think or want. "And so would any of chance of turning you back to a duck since we'd need the power it grants for a chance at reversing back the irreversible...", she venomously spat out, frowning at her momentary meltdown and at the situation.

Magica DeSpell was known for many things, and losing control of herself was not one of them. It wasn't publicly known, anyways, but this...this mess was a whole new low. They'd failed before, but never before had they gone so horribly right, and they never found themselves in a situation where they had to ponder if bringing back their biggest enemy would be a good idea or not.

-"We could find another McDuck, Magie.", he tried soothing her, reserving his own thoughts for later. "Someone must've made it out there. Be it hero or villain, there must be someone like Scrooge. There have to have been.", he comforted her, trying to his best to rest his arm on her shoulder. Or his wing on her arm, in this case.

-"I know, Poe.", she sighed heavily, leaning a bit onto his arm before quickly rethinking that decision as he struggled against her weight. "But there's no Scrooge McDuck. There's always someone like him, but there's never the Scrooge McDuck.", she bitterly admitted. He was a worthy rival. Many had come and go, and most were able to face her again. Some couldn't continue on living, for that matter. All but Scrooge had fallen to her.

At first, she had only rage and fury for him, but as the years went on, she started to love their fights more and more, her schemes became more and more elaborate, her plans became works of art that she spent more time on than she cared to admit, and she invested so much emotion to her fight against him that seeing him gone in such an anti-climatic way was...depressing, honestly. Scrooge brought out her worst, in a way no one else could, and for that, she (secretly) thanked him; her worst was scarier than her on a rampage, and that didn't just say something, it spoke volumes.

-"So? You'll bring him back? Just because of that?", another caw, this one a bit more inquisitive and pushy. She tried looking the other direction. "Down here are my eyes, Magie.", he pushed her. She looked at him, a twinge of guilt in her eyes.

-"I don't know. We didn't do much in this world, y'know. We can live like this never happened.", she suggested, her voice a mere whisper. One that sounded like a yell in the dead silence in their home. Her brother kept staring, part sympathetic, part...was that sadness in his eyes?

-"Magica,", he began, trying to find his words, "We're villains. We're the worst people on God's green earth, and we care certainly not about who we hurt, maim, and kill. And when you're a villain, you fight against Karma and the universe magically siding with your enemies, not mention having to work with The Evil Overlord List to keep everything in check.", he explained to her, his eyes never leaving her. "It's not about who we're fighting. I just want a world without Scrooge. How bad can whoever replaced him be?", he begged, stopping for a moment before adding, "My freedom could be a battle away."

Well, he was certainly making the choice easy, wasn't he. So? So what? Does she just leave her brother to suffer? The one, and so far, only man to stay with her for all of her life? Just for another rival? She prided herself on being heartless, but this...She didn't know anymore.

What was her happiness anymore? Could she not find happiness without her endless fight with Scroogie? Who was she? Her own independent person, or merely a shadow in Scrooge's massive figure, never to step out from under it? What was her life? An endless chase for a goal which she could only achieve in one way, lest she render it underwhelming for her? She's been building up the moment so much, for so long, and she sacrificed everything to have it. Everyone. Was the chase she started what defined her? Or had Scroogie won without realizing, making her little more than another person swallowed by the ever-greedy monster that was his shadow?

-"I don't...I don't know, Poe.", she hitched, suddenly realizing that this wasn't good for her figure. Not at all. She suppressed any emotional instinct in her body and brought her knees to her chest, resting her head on them. "I don't know what to do anymore. All this chase...All this madness. And I never won.", she closed her eyes, sensing a bit of a stinging sensation and trying to block it. "And when I did, I still lost.", alright, she wasn't going to speak now. Her voice was dangerously close to cracking.

-"You're wrong. You've won several times, and were -still are- Scrooge's most dangerous foe for years. Several set-backs, sure, but all great people have set-backs.", he started brushing his wing against her arm, not really able to pat. She interrupted him before he could speak further.

-"Isn't it funny? The day I win, I can't even be happy. I need Scroogie to be happy. Laughable, isn't it? I'm becoming less and less my own person. Just a planet in a star's orbit. My own shadow is slipping out from under me and becoming his.", she lamented, her hitches a bit more noticeable.

-"Then reign your shadow back in! You're Magica DeSpell, for goodness' sake! Control it, make be it yours!", the raven stood on his two feet, trying his best to be considerate. He was making her happier, sure, but he was not so truthful, was he?

-"...Maybe. I'm...I'm sorry about this Poe. This...idiocy. I guess I'm not as sturdy as I thought myself to be.", she sniffed again, looking at him as he stared back.

-"Nobody is. We all think we're invincible at one point. The only thing that matters is getting back up. Bigger, better, badder.", his voice lowered, and the pure devilishness in it was infectious. She smiled a weak smile, and he returned it in kind. "So, when are we going back to our timeline?", he suddenly questioned, and she opened her eyes wide at his question.

-"You...You're okay with it...?"

-"If I said I was, you'd know I'm lying. But it's not the biggest issue, either. This dime isn't solve my issue anytime soon with its power like that. And we have no real other target at this point. So it wasn't that close to me. I hope.", he explained himself, trying to have an air of dignity before swallowing and continuing, "...Since we're being truthful here, I won't say that this doesn't feels like a wasted opportunity. I've long dreamed of a world without Scrooge, but to tell the truth, someone like Scrooge will probably as be annoying as Scrooge. Probably.", he concluded, some of the sadness in his eyes washing away. He removed his eyes from Magica for a moment, looking at the ceiling.

-"I...And leave you as a crow? Do you have any idea what you're saying?!", she refuted the idea, earning a quick glance. "No, I...I shouldn't...I can't do this! We have to find the closest thing that'll help you! We must!", she started panicking, trying for once to think of him more. He smiled and rubbed her arm again.

-"Primarily, I am a raven. And I thought you were a heartless, selfish villainess? Or do we need to spend more time learning how to be proper villains?", he tried easing her worries away, a teasing tone in his voice for a moment before he cleared it. "Listen, Magica, whatever happens, one of us isn't getting what they want. If we go back to our timeline, there's always a chance we'll get Scrooge. A chance we'll find some other solution. If we stay here, there then won't ever being another McDuck.", he explained to her, his voice calm and collected, trying his best to keep her calm. "And you'd better do it when I'm in a good mood, because I'm sure this will bite my tail sometime later.", he added, deciding that perhaps some pressure is needed.

-"But-"

-"NOW!", he ordered her, and she jumped, surprised from his cry, heading to where she'd first preformed her spell, hastily picking up the Scrooge doll and covering it with more Bougeia Autrepart, setting it on the ground where it once stood.

-"O' sanguina del mon enemmi mortel, repondra O' appels que t'entendra, O' abyssum qu'attend, repond à ma voca!", she repeated the same chanting she said this morning, waiting as the puppet levitated once more and sensing her brother come beside her. "Bring Scrooge McDuck back and reset this timeline on the right track!", she cried out, letting the doll emit sparks once more, the spinning a bit faster than the first time they cast it.

The same suffocating sensation they felt this morning soon filled their house, forcing them to wait as the constant 'zaps' and 'bangs' started whittling down. It wasn't any more pleasant than it was the first time, but at least they anticipated it. A few painful moments later, their breathing regained its regular pace, and their house started becoming more illuminated.

-"...Ugh...", the small black bird on the ground tried holding his head between his hands as he stared immediately at the wall behind him. Yep. Scrooge was back alright. "We really need to find a spell that counters harmful effects from other spells. I don't think I want to keep do this...", he complained, allowing their home to bask in the silence for a moment. Even the air had stopped its continual blow for a moment. A moment of peace wasn't rare when the pair of them were both adults, but the whole 'evil magic' thing didn't also allow for too much peace.

Then there was a sob.

It wasn't a particularly sad sob. Particularly pained, either. It was simply reigned. Defeated. When he turned back, the green-ish duck was still on her knees, her hand covering her eyes, emitting another sob every few moments before interrupting it with a quick chuckle. He gave her the moment; no need to be pushy now. He already knew what was bothering her.

-"I guess...I guess I really am a screw-up...", she mumbled between her hitches. "Fifty years and I cannot get a  dime. Fifty years and I've also grown attached to winning by one single method...I'm hopeless, Poe. Hopeless.", she ended solemnly, not showing her face, afraid of even worse humiliation if she was shedding tears.

-"No."

-"Stop it. You're the best person I could ask for now, but lying won't make me better.", she bitterly refuted, making her hand leave her face as she tried tucking the threads of hair that made their way to her eyes away.

-"Then what will?"

-"I don't know! Winning? Not being a failure? Something along those lines! I've been working my bum off for years, playing off every failure as a learning experience, but it's too much. I've had it. I just want to win for once. Is that too much?", indeed, Magica DeSpell was not known for making such emotional rants, and yet, everyone had moments when they snapped. She just needed to let some steam off. That's all.

-"I meaning, we are villains. Winning isn't really something we do often.", well, he was certainly keeping his realist tendencies. That was fun. "...I don't know Magica. I wish I had some magical answer to tell you, but there really isn't. We're back to square one.", he stated as a matter-of-fact, quickly picking up the pace before she could reply, "But that doesn't matter. You're Magica DeSpell! Sorceress of the Shadows, Empress of Napoli, and my favourite little sister. You'll push through. Somehow, against all possible odds and against your better judgement, you'll rise up again. You always did.", he resumed, an encouraging tone in his voice. He held his had high, looking the sorceress in the eye. She seemed touched.

-"Poe...that was...Absolute malarkey.", she admitted, chuckling with him. "But you know what? I'll take it.", she laughed, opening her arms for a moment as the raven in front of her understood what she wanted and opened his wings. A small moment ensued before she went down and gave her brother a quick hug. A silent one, and those were rare, so he'd better cherish it. because she wasn't planning on giving much more of them. "Alright, that's enough."

-"Aw, and here I thought you were going to showing some more affection to me.", well, it wasn't that she didn't love him, but disregarding the rare outburst of emotion, she never showed much emotion to her brother. He, on the other hand, didn't try to hide it. At least, before the whole raven business. And now she was sad again. She snapped out of her internal thoughts when she noticed he perched himself on the couch, almost as if waiting for her to come closer. "So, what's the plan now, Mistress?"

-"The plan?", oh, right. A plan. A plan to reclaim herself. To try and fight against this feeling of hopelessness. "I'd...I want to try and train my Shadow Magic a bit more. Perhaps having more control over my shadow will make me get in a better place. It can serve me, and it's the most loyal helper I'll probably ever get.", she mumbled, earning a disapproving glance. "Besides you, of course.", she added, and the glance went away. "Besides, shouldn't you be a cold-hearted, uncaring villain? Why do you care whether or not I consider you loyal?"

-"No, I meant the plan to get rid from Scrooge. Or to win over him. Or any other plan.", oh, so that was how it was going to be? Now he was going to ignore her questions. We'll see about that, Mr. Tough Guy. We'll see. She wiped her eyes, making sure there wasn't anything in them.

-"Hey, when did your English improve all of a sudden? And why didn't the cracks show when we faced Bradford? Are you really sure you're just having some difficulties? Because I'm telling you, you won't get on my good side if I figure out you've been messing with me...", well, two could play at that game! She, too, could ignore his questions, although he replied to this particular question with a most satisfying answer: A shrug. One day, she'll kill him. Not today, however.

-"So, plan is being?"

-"Now you're just forcing it.", she rolled her eyes, walking a bit closer to him as a most devilish plan popped into her mind. "You know, I think I have a new plan.", she began, and he immediately became attentive. Or at least, feigned attention. "I'm planning a vacation."

-"A what?", the pure, raw confusion in his voice was priceless. If for nothing else, this plan in particular was already working.

-"A vacation. It is when someone takes a break from a particular work or job.", she dully explained, watching him mutter something under his beak.

-"No, I know that! Just...really? The last vacation we took together was in the seventies. It's an...uh, a strange extremely proposition.", he explained, apparently coming on board of this particular plan. "I guess you finally decided that some relaxation can benefit the both of us. So, where to, Mistress? I think Sardinia would to be very nice.", he suggested, a small list of places they could go to popping up in his mind. It's been a last while since the two of them actually planned a relaxing trip together. Usually they'd just yell at each other before one of them storms away for a few days and relaxes on their own.

-"Actually...I've been thinking about staying here. I mean, look at our home. It needs some work, that's for sure. We have some laundry, and to be truthful, when was the last time we walked around Napoli? Must've been three years at least.", she tried to remember, and he thought about it for a moment before agreeing.

-"You know what? You're right. We'd do better to stay here. Away from McDuck, away from our troubles in life.", there we go, he was starting to see from her perspective. "And our house does look like it hasn't been cleaned since the dawn of time.", well, that wasn't such a great perspective, but it wasn't wrong per say.

-"Alright, consider us on vacation from now on!", she announced, looking around their ancestral home for a moment. "I think we'd best start on cleaning this place up if we want to finish quickly", she stated, and she earned a nod from her brother as he went to a broom nearby. She then remembered something. "And...uh, Poe?"

-"Hm?", huh. He didn't immediately object to her using his name. That was encouraging.

-"Can we...you know, use our names from time to time? Maybe the weekends? Just...sometime when we can be ourselves for while, yeah?", she timidly suggested, trying to decipher his expression. Poe had donned Ratface as his name for a while now, and she knew that he didn't exactly like the name, only keeping it so that nobody recognizes how low he sunk. But she already knew who he was, so it wasn't that big of a deal...right?

-"...Sure, I suppose. Only on weekends though.", his murmured, his voice so low, almost as if he hoped she wouldn't catch it. He knew she did from her relieved expression, though. "Well, don't just stand there. Get in work; grab the mop.", he ordered, turning his head away.

-"Will do, Ratface, will do.", well, if there's one thing that this disastrous spell helped with, it's that it made the rift between them slightly smaller than what it used to be after the raven incident. Slightly.

As she headed off to find the mop, passing by Poe while he tried his earnest to brush the dust away, she couldn't help but reflect on this day. So, another thing to add to the tomes. Another failure, too, but this time, she couldn't help but feel it was self-inflicted.

She was this close. The Lucky Dime was quite literally in her hand -she quickly checked, obviously finding nothing- and she let it go. Why? Was this really the only way she could find her satisfaction, by defeating Scroogie herself? How far was she willing to go? How much more would she have to sacrifice?

Would she even get there?

Perhaps not. However, it was this 'perhaps' that kept her going; Magica hadn't expected Scroogie to be such a persistent opponent, to always be watchful, to always be determined to win, to always be so confident, yet never passing the line that would make many other fall for an over-inflated ego. And yet, he slipped from time to time. She knew that, as a villainess, the world was basically working against her, and yet...there were times where she came so close, she could not actually believe it. But he always bounced back up, striking her and Poe down at the last second.

And yet, she could not imagine any more hollow a victory than what she had today. For all she hated him, Scrooge was such a worthy opponent that anyone else simply could not reach the golden standard which he'd set. The snark, the fighting, the boisterous spirit that just felt so wonderful to crack with a devious plot...It all made her unable to imagine a victory over someone other than him when it came to the Lucky Dime.

The issue was that she feared he became less of a rival, and more of an obsession. Was she truly unable to accept winning over someone else? How much control did she have over this rivalry of theirs, really? She always thought that he'd be living in fear of her, making his every more around her fearsome existence, and yet it appeared she was the one who was losing her mind about him.

So what would she do? Realize she's become in his orbit? Accept it? Try to cut all ties and just stop going to North America altogether? It was all just so maddening...

And yet, the answer she found herself satisfied with was that she had to try harder. She couldn't possibly let Scrooge rob her blind; she was Magica DeSpell! She went so far to get to defeat Scroogie, and she wouldn't simply let go! She'd get better, stronger, more dangerous, and she'd have to balance this out a bit. Scrooge was not the main character of her life; she was. He wasn't going to out-shine her in her own life.

And yeah, the Lucky Dime is essentially her sole goal which she's been working towards, but perhaps trying to regain more control before going after Scrooge again will make her feel more firm about her position. Honestly, it was all so complicated that she couldn't help but feel a bit bad for leaving a Scrooge-less world behind her, but after all, a world without Scrooge McDuck is certainly not the world she was used to. She wouldn't simply leave the world behind her and run away, she'd stand up and get a hold of this situation again. It's what she did before, and what she'll be doing for a long time, or else her name isn't Magica DeSpell.

-"Mistress, what on earth is taking so long?! Have you forgotten what a mop is?!", and her name wouldn't be Magica DeSpell if she stopped doing dramatic monologues and forgetting about her surroundings, either.

-"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming you smart-mouth...", as she picked up the cleaning supplies and headed to where her brother was, she couldn't help but stare at Scrooge's picture, filled with darts.

Perhaps a world without Scroogie would be a world that's less dangerous. A world that's more successful for her. Far easier, too. But she did not care about easy, she cared about the challenge and the victory that followed. For now, she could handle a world with Scroogie. The question was: Could he handle what was coming next?

Oooooh, that was a good one! She had to write that down for her next confrontation with the old miser. Right after they finish their vacation, of course.

[ravenforce]

Manhattan 8

Word Count: 4557

A/N: Hi! I’m alive. I’m so sorry it took so long for me to write again but here I am. Anyway, I hope you guys are still practicing social distancing and still following the safety protocols wherever you are. Stay safe and healthy, y’all. Let me know what you think of this. I only proofread this once, so have mercy on me. xx

Summary: Definitely not what you asked for. :)

Parts: 1 |  2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 9

*** 

“Lou?” 

The Heist crew looked at each other across the board room while Lou just continues to stare blankly out the tall window, unable to hear anyone around her. It’s the time of the year again. The anniversary of the day Lou lost you.

“Lou?” Debbie tried to get her attention by standing directly at her line of sight. 

Lou blinked twice before looking up at Debbie. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath and sat up straighter. “Sorry, I was elsewhere.”

“We were just asking if you’re ready with the marketing of this joint exhibit with Selene Quaid?” 

“Yes but we’re still waiting for Quaid and her team’s feedback about the graphics,” Lou assured her best friend with a smile. 

Debbie stared at her for a couple of seconds before nodding and turning back to the whole team. Lou didn’t dare look back to her friends in fear to see them pitying her for being unable to move on after two years now. Yes, it’s been two years since she thought walking away would be easy but it was far from it. It was agonizing and physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. Especially when she thought seeing you, even from afar, would ease the pain but didn’t.

For the first few months after you left, Lou made secret trips every weekend to visit Tate and hopefully catch a glimpse of you. At first, she was elated to see you thriving; the museum is indeed your natural habitat but as time goes by, it hurts even more because she misses you tremendously. She misses sharing life with you, that’s why it pains her to see you living one that she can’t be a part of. She owns the pain, she knows she brought it upon herself. So, she sucked it up. 

Until she got an intervention. 

“You thought we didn’t know? You’re always away on the weekends. You’re not on Ithaca, and you’re not with your brothers,” Debbie says gently as they sit Lou on their board room. Her brothers were in attendance too. 

“Rats,” she hissed while looking at Thor and Loki who was leaning against the far wall. 

Her friends chuckled. “They didn’t snitch on you. Nine found your trail.”

She whipped her head back to her friends, eyes wide in surprise. “What?”

“You didn’t give us any choice,” Tammy said while playing at the ends of her blonde hair. A telltale sign that she’s nervous. “You won’t talk to us.” 

“That didn’t give you the right to hack my email though.”

Lou crossed her arms across her chest. Daphne chuckled at the childish pout on their friend’s face. 

“This can’t go on forever, Lou,” Daphne said. “When’s the last time you spent time with us?” Daphne gestured to everyone in the room. “With your brothers?” 

Lou caught her brother’s eyes and suddenly she felt a wave of guilt. “We need you here too,” Thor says sincerely. “We all do.” 

Loki nodded. “We know you love her. We know that she loves you too. She wouldn’t want this for you.” Loki admonished. “You said you did what you did because you didn’t want Y/N to spread herself thin for you. Well, guess what, as her friend, we know she wouldn’t want this for you too.”

She admits it. Flying back and forth every week was taking a toll on her. So, she relented to visiting Tate at least two times a month. Until it became once a month, then just whenever she’s free or whenever missing you get so intense.

She knew she couldn’t put her life on hold forever. 

She knew she can’t just sit around and mope, and wait for you to come home. 

***

With the joint exhibit happening in five days, everyone was legit on their toes with everything that needs to be done. The whole office was buzzing with activity the moment Lou walked in at 8 in the morning. Agatha just put the box of breakfast pastries down the one table where everyone likes to work even though they all have designated desks when she walked in.

“Good morning Lou,” Agatha greeted with a smile before handing her, her favourite coffee.

“Morning.” She smiled back before glancing towards Debbie who’s pacing back and forth inside her glass office. “What’s wrong?”

“Debbie’s frustrated that Quaid still hasn’t approved Daphne’s marketing collateral.”

“Has anyone spoken with Quaid?” She asked pensively.

“Yes. Quaid’s secretary said someone will be coming over to represent her,” Tammy answered, rolling her chair away from her computer. Before she can respond though, Charlie entered the room at the same time Debbie exited her office.

“What is it, Charlie?” Debbie asked, immediately picking up on Charlie’s excited demeanour.

“Quaid’s representative is outside,” he responded with a broad smile.

Everyone raised their eyebrow at him. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let them in,” Daphne sassed.

“She picked up a call but will be with us right about -” Charlie paused. The door to the office opened. “Now.”

And to everyone’s surprise, you walked in.

***

A collective gasped was heard across the room before silence swept through it. You looked at Charlie who has already recovered from his shock at seeing you again after two long years. You turned back to everyone before smiling.

“Hey.” You greeted. Lou’s heart skipped a beat and ached at the same time. Your voice shook everyone out of their reverie, making everyone simultaneously yell your name in excitement and gather around you.

Nine was the first to reach you and almost tackle you down in a tight hug. “Y/N!” she yelled as she wraps her arms around you tightly. “Oh! My! God! I can’t believe you’re here!”

Daphne, Debbie, and Rose, who weren’t much of a hugger just sidled next to you. “You look all grown up, Y/L/N.” Debbie noticed. Of course, she’ll still be too cool to give direct compliments. You smiled your thanks.

“You were cute before in your graphic tees and distressed jeans. Now, you definitely look -” Daphne stopped to consider her next words.

Nine pulled away from you to look at you a once over. “Hot! Definitely fucking hot, if you asked me” she finished for Daphne making the brunette roll her eyes at Nine’s choice of language.

“Good thing no one asked you,” Constance teased before coming over to give you a short hug, and a whispered ‘I missed you.’

You laughed at their antics but it was shortly interrupted by Rose’s hand touching the sleeve of your suit.

“Are these custom-made, darling?” She asked before she can help herself.

“Missed you too, Rose.” You teased. Rose looked at you wide-eyed and with a soft blush tainting her cheeks.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to seem more interested in your clothes -” she stuttered out. “-I missed you too, darling.”

“I’m joking, Rose.” You laughed. “And to answer your question, yes, the suit is custom made. I can’t really work in the museum wearing graphic tees, tattered jeans and converse. At least, not all the time.”

Tammy nearly cried before she could have a turn in wrapping you in her arms again. She still feels the warmest, her golden hair are still soft, and she still smell like fresh waffles in the morning. “Oh, are you still my baby?” Tammy wailed, cupping your cheeks and looking at you intently.

You can’t help but get teary-eyed too. You chuckled before nodding at Tammy’s question. “I am,” you said before you launched yourself at her. Aside from Nine and Lou, you’re closest with Tammy too. “I missed you so much, Tams.”

“I missed you so much, too, baby.” Tammy held you a little tighter. Amita who was behind Tammy took a closer look at you from the blonde’s shoulder.

“You look so different, Y/N,” Amita said before raising her hand for a fist bump. You were just about to raise your hand and tap Amita’s fist with yours when Lou’s voice cut through everything that’s been happening around you.

“I don’t think so. I think she looks the same.” Lou’s not looking at you but on her boots. “She’s still breathtaking though.”

Tammy let go of you so you can look at the blonde properly. Everyone held their breath in anticipation. This is, after all, the first time you’re seeing each other after all the mess that went down years prior.

You walked up to your ex-girlfriend. “Say it to my face, if you mean it.” Lou looked up at you in surprise.

“I-” She chewed her bottom lip. “-didn’t mean to say it out loud.” She looked uncharacteristically nervous. “But I do mean it. You look as beautiful as the day I met you.”

You didn’t say anything for a minute, making Lou’s heart almost jumped out of her ribcage. After a long pause, you smiled genuinely at her and opened your arms for a hug. To say that Lou was surprised was an understatement. She thought you would hate her for what she did but there you were opening your arms again for her.

She didn’t have to be asked twice, she stepped towards you and hugged your body close to her. She had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from sobbing. It’s been so long since she felt home.

***

Lou rolled out of her bed an hour before her alarm clock hits. She smiled at the ceiling before rolling out of bed and making her way to her open kitchen. She went directly to her coffee maker. She was humming softly while measuring coffee grinds for her morning rations when someone spoke from her couch. 

“Isn’t it a little too early to be this chirpy?” Nine groaned before burying her head on the pillow Lou lent her.

Lou nearly spilt the grounds over the counter in her surprise. She literally forgot that Nine and Tammy slept over to help finish some preparations for the meeting with you. Tammy stood up and stretched before walking up to Lou with a smile.

“Don’t take it personally. She’s never a morning person.” 

“Coffee?” Lou asked with a soft smile and a light blush adorning her cheek. 

“Yes, please.” Tammy sat on the stool by the counter and watched Lou’s back. “Are we having breakfast here or shall we have the kids (Agatha and Charlie) pick up some before heading to the office?”

Lou bit her bottom lip as she thinks about her options. She opened her fridge and studied the contents of it. “Well, I have enough ingredients for your packed breakfasts, if you want to cook.” 

Tammy immediately perked up at that. “Yes, please. I’ll make Y/N’s favourites.” 

Lou smiled and nodded, just in time for the coffee maker to finish brewing. She got a mug of black coffee before turning towards Tammy who was already opening her cupboards for everything that she’ll need.

“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair then.” Lou knows better to stay away from the kitchen when Tammy’s cooking. The woman prefers cooking alone as she knows that their crew tends to leave a bigger mess when they’re trying to help. 

Tammy just smiled and shooed her away. Nine walked in the open kitchen right when Lou seated at the balcony of her apartment. They both watched Lou with her eyes closed, face turned towards the early morning sun, and a soft smile on her face. 

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen her this -” Tammy paused, searching for the right word.

“Happy?” Nine tried to guess. Tammy shook her head lightly, watching Lou for another minute before she found the perfect word. 

“Alive.” 

***

Nine drove the three of them to work using Lou’s car. A testament of how good Lou must be feeling to let the tech girl drive her precious car. Lou just happily sat on the passenger seat, looking out of the window like she hasn’t lived in the city most of her adult life. 

“Nine-” Lou said without looking at the brunette. She just continued to survey the yellow taxi idle next to their car. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you know if Y/N’s dating anyone?” 

Nine chuckled, Lou has been asking the same question at least every quarter of the year. Since Lou’s not on any social media platform, she didn’t have any means to watch over you. She told herself that making an Instagram account would be a violation of her efforts to move forward. She told herself it will also be futile since she’s sure you won’t let her follow you, as all your accounts are private. 

“You’ve asked this before and the answer is still the same.” Nine teased lightly before handing Lou her unlocked mobile phone. “Check for yourself. The girl still flies under the radar.” 

She scrolled through the endless apps installed in Nine’s phone before she found Instagram. She opened it and searched your handle through Nine’s following tab. True to her word, there’s really no sign that you’re romantically involved with someone.

Your feed is all travel photos, food crawls in your travel destinations, museums you’ve visited through London and other parts of Europe. There were also photos of your cosy apartment, and your pet cat but that’s it. One might say, there’s nothing juicy about it. You don’t even post selfies. Lou took one last quick scroll through your feed before she closed the app and handed Nine her phone back. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” Nine grinned, eyes still trained out front. “So, what’s the plan?”

Lou scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion before turning her body slightly to address her friend. “What plan?”

Nine’s smile just got more mischievous. “The plan,” she said like Lou’s supposed to get it already. When Lou just kept giving her the confused look, she sighed. “What’s the plan to get Y/N back?” 

“Oh.” A quick look of worry and sadness passed through Lou’s face before she turned back to the city. “I don’t know, N. I feel like I don’t deserve her. Even more so now.” 

Nine frowned at that before she can speak though, Tammy kicked the back of Lou’s seat making her yelp. “What the hell, Tammy?” Lou yelled. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Tammy asked exasperated. 

“Exactly that. I mean, I don’t know.” Lou crossed her arms over her chest. 

“How about apologizing and telling her the truth that you never cheated on her?” Tammy mirrored Lou’s position: arms crossed and frowning deeply.

“What does it matter now? It’s been long overdue.” 

“Better late than never, L.” Nine glanced at her while waiting for the traffic light to turn green. 

“It won’t erase what you did but if you want her back, I think coming clean is the first step,” Tammy whispered.

***

Lou resolved to take her friends advice and apologize even though she thinks its overdue. It turns out apologizing wasn’t going to be the problem, it’s actually getting you alone for more than two minutes is. The moment they stepped into the gallery, it seems like everyone gravitate towards you. Besides that, you were also laser focus on everything that needs to be done for opening night that she finds it hard to approach you in fear of disturbing you.

Days passed in a blur of meetings, site inspections, and generally making sure that everything is on point for the event that Lou barely noticed that she still hasn’t had any alone time with you until it was opening night. You arrived at the same time everyone from the Heist was supposed to check in even though you’re technically not their employee anymore. You walked in wearing an elegant black dress with matching black heels.

 “Everything is going as planned outside. Security is already in their positions, and I just saw a few VIP cars parking upfront,” you said in place of a greeting while tapping away at your phone. “Deb you might need to get your pretty ass upfront and welcome the guests.”

When only silence follows, you looked up to find every single one of your friends is gaping at you.

”I’m sorry is there something in -”

“You look beautiful,” Lou whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked straight at the blonde’s blue eyes and smirked at her. “I mean -”

“Thanks, Lou.” You cut her off. “You look great too.”

A soft blush tinted Lou’s cheeks. Constance cleared her throat. “Ugh. I hate to interrupt this flirt fest but the guests are coming,” she said before nodding towards the door.

True to Constance words, invited guests started pouring in prompting everyone into action to receive them.

***

The rented space for the event was significantly bigger than the gallery but it’s still packed with art enthusiasts from all walks of life. Selene Quaid’s name plastered in every printed and digital marketing collateral does bring in the people. She’s like the sun, and everyone’s Icarus who doesn’t care if they burn just to be near her. About an hour into the event and there’s still no sign of the woman, which Lou knows because she’s been at the bar surveying the crowd all night.

She just downed her first glass of champagne when you plopped down on the stool next to her and ordered yourself a drink.

“Tequila? This early?” Lou asked after you downed your first shot.

“Yeah.” You downed another shot.

Lou crinkled her eyebrows together. “What’s wrong?”

You downed your last shot before turning towards your ex-girlfriend. “Selene’s late. Again. You know how tardiness makes me anxious.”

Lou nodded because she does remember the two of your discussing the issue before that’s why she made it a point never to be late in any of your dates in the past. “I’m sure she’s on the way.”

You just hummed in acknowledgement before swivelling the rest of your stool to face the buzzing crowd. Lou can’t help but study the side profile of your face. 

“Lou, you’re staring.”

“I can’t help it.” She whispered loud enough for only you to hear. “I just can’t believe you’re here and talking to me.”

You glanced at her and smiled. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You said before turning back to watch the door.

“Yes, and it may be overdue but I’m sorry for what I did.” Lou’s voice cracked as she tries to reign in her emotions.

You fully turn your attention to her then. “Lou, I’ve for-”

“No before you say that. I need you to know that truth,” she cut you off.

You nodded to prompt her to continue. “I never cheated on you,” she muttered with conviction. You searched her face for a hint of a lie but you can’t find any. “I did lie to you though.”

“Explain,” you said after flagging the waiter for another round of shots. You feel like you might need it with how serious Lou is.

Lou looked so guilty and sad when you faced her again. “I didn’t think you would ever take the job at Tate if you were with me. So I asked Therese to pretend that we were fooling around behind your back.”

You gripped the edge of the counter, as you digest that new information. Lou can see the unshed tears starting to gather in your eyes and she wanted nothing more but to reach out and pull you to her but you were gritting your teeth and she knew your habits very well.

“I’m sorry,” Lou repeated.

You downed 1 out of your 3 tequila shots. “That wasn’t your call,” you whispered angrily at her. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I had to do, not quitting the program to go back and beg you to choose me was the next.”

“I’m sorry.” Lou apologizing again is just making you angrier by the minute. You throw back your second shot.

“We could have made it work. I could have flown to you every Friday night. It’s just a 7-hour flight.” You downed your last tequila shot, ignoring the burn in your throat and almost slamming the glass down on the bar had you not remembered you two are supposed to be working.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Lou tried to reach for your hand but you yanked it away from her.

“You never gave me a chance,” you spat. Lou shook her head.

“You never gave us a chance. 

***

Lou wanted to defend her decision but she was cut off when the rest of the Heist crew bounded happily to the bar.

“There you are!” Nine declared enthusiastically. You made a subtle attempt to dab the tears in your eyes before turning to your friends.

“What’s up?” You answered over-enthusiastically.

“Someone’s been looking for you,” Amita quipped.

Before you can ask who, Selene Quaid reached the bar with Rose. When she looked up and saw you, she immediately halted her conversation with the fashion designer and excused herself to come to you.

“Hey.” Selene greeted, scratching at the back of her neck. “You look fantastic.”

“You’re late,” you ignored the compliment and admonished the brunette, which surprised everyone. No one gets to tell Selene Quiad what to do. She goes places and does things in her own pace and time.

“I’m sorry.” Selene cupped your right cheek with her right hand. She looked genuinely remorseful. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You smiled softly, leaning into Selene’s touch as it temporarily soothes the ache from your previous conversation with Lou. “You better,” you said smiling.

Selene took it as a sign that she’s forgiven. Smiling broadly before stepping closer and pulling you into a soft, brief kiss that took Lou’s breath away. Just like that, Lou’s dream of getting you back was shuttered in a million tiny pieces right in front of her eyes.

It’s too late.

She’s too late.

Taglist:  @kaytoopio @marvelfansince08love @marvelb00kwolf @shycucumbersandwich @subject7creed @theprassebox​ @confessionsofawritingdork​ @gaytrashgoblin​ @cup-of-stars​

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 6: don’t lose ur head (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a teenager who makes bad choices EXTREME edition, Remus being Remus, Intrusive Thoughts, Minor Bad Parenting, so much swearing it’s insane (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! I love this freaking chapter SO much but I’m really scared of how it’s going to be received. All feedback is extremely welcome!! 

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, One-Sided Logicality, Platonic DRLAMP

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord

Over the course of the next month Logan learns that despite their reputations, Roman and Remus are the opposite of what everyone thinks of them.

Logan is the smartest person he knows, there is no way in hell he’d ever miss Roman’s multiple attempts to sabotage his role as Hamilton. Smart, and yet so oblivious. Each time Roman had tried to mess with Logan after he began cultivating a friendship with Remus he was miraculously saved from the torment at the last second. Remus is a hundred percent certain that Logan has no idea that he’s fighting off his brother at each and every turn. He’s not certain of much, so it’s saying a lot. There is a beautiful dichotomy in Logan’s logs of the events and the stories Remus tells about his brother’s scourge against his brand new ‘enemy’. On a page labeled ‘Roman Incidents’ in Logan’s succinct handwriting documents every incident through the month when Roman attempted to sabotage him.

July 20th - Roman tripped near my things in the drama room while holding coffee. When I went to check on my things, someone had removed the contents of my bag and filled it with around six pounds of glitter. If this happens again, throw the bag away. Glitter makes anything unsalvageable. You will keep finding it everywhere. 

Remus knew Roman had been planning something. Of course he did. Though they didn’t share a room anymore, sneaking into it had never been exceptionally hard. Neither had eavesdropping, when it counted. It counted now more than ever because Remus had become unreasonably attached to Logan and when he heard Roman talking to himself and mentioning the name of his favourite little nerd badly he knew it was now or never. It took two excruciating hours of sitting still and listening to get the juicy stuff. He almost got caught by their mother twice. She’d only been home for three days and she’d checked on Roman twice in one night. If Remus told her about the amount of effort he was putting into something she might keel over dead from shock. 

What a funny sight that would be to him. His mother, dead from the shock of his hard work to do something good, thumping onto the floor. He laughs a little, quiet enough to keep Roman from hearing. His brain supplies the rational next step of Roman running out of his room and distraughtly cradling their mother’s head in his lap. Roman sobbing. Roman blaming him. Roman screaming about how it was his fault. And it would be, if she died like that. Remus doesn’t think it’s all that funny anymore, but once the train of thought starts it can’t be stopped. He decides that eavesdropping isn’t fun anymore and makes his way to the kitchen, trying to shake the idea of his brother cursing him out for killing their mother out of his mind. 

It doesn’t really work, but he tries anyway. The kitchen is full of distractions, good and bad. The knives in the block look so enticing to his self-proclaimed ‘shitty-dick-wad brain’, but the cookies he nabs from the cupboard are so easy to shove into his mouth that he figures it evens out. He sits at the kitchen island and doesn’t even bother to turn on the light. It takes six cookies in his mouth at once before he can direct his thoughts somewhere else momentarily. How in the hell is he going to combat Roman’s plan? He spits all the cookies onto the counter as his brother walks in, flicks on the light, and sighs deeply.

“You could at least do that onto a plate.”

Remus just shrugs, so Roman speaks again, “How’s your evening been?”

“Before like...five minutes ago I was really liking it.” Which was true, Roman slides into the seat next to him and picks a cookie from the box.

“What changed?”

“Shitty brain,” He replies, “Y’know how it gets.”

“I do indeed. Do you need anything?” His voice is surprisingly soft with him, to the point where Remus has to give him a confused look before deciding what to say next. He figures out how to fuck with Roman’s plan in that moment.

“I wanna go to Party City and terrorize the night staff.” 

Roman only chuckles, Remus watches his twin put away the cookies and grab his car keys from the bowl on the counter. 

“Come on then, we can buy some of those plastic babies you like so much.”

As Remus is falling asleep later that night, his chest feels warm. He attributes it to the upcoming scheme-ruining scheming. It’s easier than admitting that that was the first time Roman had willingly hung out with him alone since elementary school. He knows the next morning that Roman is most likely buttering up because he suspects Remus knows. Which is...fair. Even if it hurts a little. They get coffee on the way to the theatre and separate. They both have important things to do. The best part about their somewhat rocky-relationship is that they always know where the other is in order to avoid each other. Remus knows that Roman has gone to see Janus and probably make heart eyes and pine over him like a dumbass. Roman knows that Remus is off drooling over his arch nemesis. Today it is more imperative than ever. During practice Remus manages to steal Logan’s backpack while he’s busy. 

He swaps the contents out with the six pounds of glitter he bought the night before and shoves Logan’s things into his bag for safe keeping. Nobody would dare look into Remus’ bag for fear of gore or weird pornography, even if he only has one in his bag at the moment. He’s shoving a small notebook in when he catches a title. “Hamilton Performance Experiment”. It takes literally all of his self-control not to immediately snoop. He makes it through, eventually meeting up with Logan and even carrying his bag to ‘be nice’ so Logan doesn’t pick up on the bag glitter. When Roman walks by with his coffee and “trips”, spilling his coffee all over Logan’s bag, Remus smiles. 

“Oh! Logan I’m so sorry! What a terrible accident!” Roman cries, ever the actor. 

Logan looks downright frantic as he lunges for his bag and rips it open. Glitter goes everywhere. Logan’s hair, Roman’s shoes, the entire dressing room floor. The look of distress fades from Logan’s face momentarily, returning full force when he realizes his things are missing. 

Remus pulls them out of his bag in secret, walking to the corner of the room, walking back and exclaiming, “What a good prank Roman! You must be taking some tricks from my book!”

When he hands the things back to Logan, Logan smiles. He decides not to ask about the notebook. 

July 27th - One of the props from the prop room was moved in with my things. I suspect Roman because of the look on his face when Remus took the fall for me. 

Just because he didn’t ask about the notebook does not mean it left his memory. By the time he gets in the car alone with his brother he realizes that Roman is pissed off at him.

“Couldn’t you have left it alone? How did you even find out!?” 

“I have my ways. Now shut up about it before I tell mom about that time in 8th grade-”

“Okay! Okay! I’m shutting up!” 

And he did. However that included no longer voicing his plans out loud. Which meant Remus had to get creative. He was very very good at getting creative. 

Dinner with their mother was much more quiet that week. Both twins brooding and not speaking with each other, their mother only prompting Roman to talk. It was too familiar in the worst possible ways. Remus despised his mother, but he knew how much his brother loved her. She was...well she was beautiful, intelligent, a very influential fashion designer, extremely supportive. Roman would go on about how perfect she was for hours. Sure, Remus could concede that their mother was beautiful, intelligent, and a very influential fashion designer, but whenever Roman talks about her he never says she’s at all a good mother. Especially not to him. He watches her laugh breathily at one of Roman’s shitty anecdotes from practice and decides he’s had enough of family dinner. He gets up and dutifully cleans his plate and places it in the dishwasher. The chef gives him a smile, and he smiles back. 

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

Then she turns back to her food like she didn’t just attempt to insult him. Jokes on her, it takes a lot more than that to hurt his feelings. He still ends up forcing himself into the shower for thirty-five minutes that night.

The rest of the week he’s more tired than usual, which the others notice. He makes an effort to not be, he really does. When his mom is in town, everything just sucks. He hangs out with Janus three times and Virgil once to get out of the house and away from his family. The other nights he spends sitting outside the convenience store with a monster or two. He ends up calling Logan one of those nights out of need for company. Logan chuckles when Remus makes up a silly reason for calling that he can’t even remember now, but he can remember Logan’s laugh. He listens to Logan talk about the book series he’s been reading and he feels a little lighter. He never ends up finding out what Roman has planned, but it’s so easy when it’s happening right in front of him. Despite his lethargy lately, he feels a fire lit in him when the missing prop is found with Logan’s bag. 

Virgil and Janus are the only two teenagers with keys to the prop room. If Logan stole the missing prop, he would have had to steal the key. No one but the twins even knew Janus had a key, and Virgil was dead set on not letting a soul into the prop room. The idea that Logan, precious little innocent fucking lamb Logan, committed theft not once but twice enrages Remus. When they find it with his things, Logan is utterly baffled. Then he realizes the implications and his face pales. Roman calls for Thomas, spouting off about how Logan stole the prop and he should face consequences, when Remus laughs as loudly as he can. 

“Hah! You guys are so funny! You think specs could ever!? Guess my prank worked out pretty damn good if you actually think Mr.Goody-Two-Shoes could commit such a heinous fucking crime!” 

Thomas sighs, tells Remus to just ask next time, and leaves. Roman stares at his brother for a solid minute with his mouth slightly ajar. Janus and Virgil are both looking at him like he’s insane because it’s so obvious to them that Roman did it. Patton is looking not at him, but at Logan, with so much concern. And Logan...Logan stares up at Remus with the look of a small and confused animal.

“Did you really do that?”

“Of course I did! I’m the resident rat bastard, I have to cause a little recreational chaos.”

He’s pretty sure Logan believes him until they’re leaving for the day and Logan whispers a ‘Thank you’ to him as he walks by. He would have melted into the floor if Janus hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him down to whisper to him.

“Why the hell did you let Roman get away with that?” Virgil is on his other side now with a scowl.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about JJ! I committed a very heinous crime!”

“Then why did Roman ask to borrow Janus’ key earlier?” Virgil asks, and Remus drops his smile to replace it with an annoyed look. 

“He just fucking asked for it!? I can’t even believe I’m related to that half-witted twit.”

“Yeah,” Virgil scoffs, “Not really the sharpest sword in the armoury, is he?”

“Please, we’ve known that for years. What I’d like to know is what are we going to do about it?” This quieted Remus, but made Virgil smirk a little. 

Janus continued, “After the backpack incident, and now the stealing incident, I’m half-convinced we have a brand new chaos demon in the group.”

“At least Remus’ chaos is fun sometimes,” Virgil mutters, “Roman’s just an ass.”

Remus gets away with being quiet as they talk until they get into Janus’ beat up old van. He doesn’t call shotgun, doesn’t slap the car's ‘ass’ as a joke, he just climbs into the back and sits there. He’s so quiet that Janus and Virgil are a little shell shocked. 

“Remus?” Virgil asks quietly and pensively, it sounds just like that soft tone Roman used with him last week. 

He’s quiet, Janus starts the car and clicks his tongue, “I’m going to shove Roman down a flight of stairs.”

“Don’t.” He manages, and the boys in the front seats go quiet. Virgil passes him the aux cord. 

He plays “Call Them Brothers” by Regina Spektor and Janus and Virgil know that tonight will be a very quiet outing. 

They’re sitting at IHOP drawing dicks on their pancakes in syrup when Remus’ phone rings. Janus and Virgil know who’s calling the second Remus sees the caller ID and smiles. 

“Evening Logie-Bear, why do I get the pleasure of hearing your devilishly sexy voice in this IHOP tonight?” Remus says and Janus groans loudly.

“You’re at IHOP?” Is the first thing Logan says, which makes Remus smile even brighter.

“Yes, sir! I’m with Virge and Janny too, you wanna say hi?” 

Logan sounds a bit contemplative when he mutters, “I was hoping you’d be alone...”

Eavesdropping Janus and Virgil make surprised faces, Remus smacks Janus in the arm, “Oh you were, were you? Why? Phone sex?”

“I wanted to ask for an opinion on a predicament.” Virgil smirks and Janus nabs his phone to speak for Remus.

“Remus would love to-Remus let me talk-You should come have some pancakes with us-Ow, watch the face!-and tell us all about how your science is going.” Janus can hear Logan hiding his laughter through the phone as Remus wrestles with him in the booth. 

“It’s more of a philosophical predicament.”

Janus nearly sees red, eyes widening and making Remus cackle,“Why in the world would you ask Remus Grimm about phi-”

It’s silent for a few moments then Logan hears a familiar voice. “It’s Virgil, we’re at the IHOP on 81st and Green.”

Logan laughs brightly, “I’ll be there. Order something for me.”

They spend the evening with breakfast for dinner, and the four get into a fairly heated friendly debate about moral ethics. Janus isn’t sure he’s ever had more fun in his life. When he’s driving away from Virgil to drop Remus off at home, he can’t help but smile at Remus’ improved demeanor. 

“Remus,” He starts after they’re alone, “I thought you and Roman were doing better, did something happen?”

“He tried to sabotage Logan twice for entirely selfish reasons, I wouldn’t care if he dies!” Remus dramatically cries.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

They’re quiet the rest of the ride, and Janus gets out to give Remus a hug before he goes in. Remus ignores Roman’s questions about his whereabouts and locks himself in his room to try and keep his mood up. It doesn’t work, but he tries. He does. 

August 3rd - Roman gave me a “peace offering” in the form of lunch. I am led to believe he was attempting to give me food poisoning, as Remus ate the lunch and has now come down with food poisoning.

His mother leaves for her office in Paris on August 1st. Roman cries and hugs her, says he’ll miss her, goes on and on about how it’s so terrible how she’s never home. He does this every time their mother and father leave, he has since they were young. Remus couldn’t give less of a shit. His plan now was finding out what Roman’s next move was. Which was hard because they were back to avoiding each other like the plague. They’d spent a few months getting better at being brothers, then one of their parents shows up and ruins it. This time it was great, Remus would never admit it, but it was. Roman made an effort when their parents weren’t around, a few months ago he started doing things like making dinner for them both and bringing it to him, offering to do a load of laundry for him while he was doing it, being mindful of his volume when practicing his singing and acting, all these little things. 

He’d even started initiating physical contact again, which Remus couldn’t get enough of. Literally. An occasional pat on the back, a grab of his hand to pull him somewhere, a light slap to his knee or arm when he said something distasteful. Giving physical affection to Remus was something that seemed to be unique to Roman. It had always been like that when they were younger, and Remus didn’t think he wanted it to stop. Any time he thinks about it he always drifts back to his head against Roman’s knee a few weeks ago when Roman had carded a hand through his hair and then a few minutes later practically tackled him to douse him in perfume The shit smelled awful, but afterwards Roman had slung an arm over his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. That and the closeness with Logan kept him buzzing for the next two days. 

Now there was nothing again. It was like Roman could turn off his affection for Remus and pretend he didn’t exist. Remus tried not to be angry about it, he really did, but he couldn’t stop the fire that he felt when the other people on stage got his praises and affection. Both of them were incredibly clingy, but Roman was so much worse at hiding it and it made Remus nearly scream. He piled all of his affectionate behavior onto Logan, and Logan never really minded. He’d place his head on Logan’s shoulder, hold his hand on stage, sit pressed up against him offstage. He loved it, he did. He loved protecting Logan, talking to Logan, existing in the same space as the dork was exhilarating. He hated having to protect Logan from his brother. There was no way in hell that Remus would let anything terrible happen to Logan, but there was no way he would ever let his brother’s stupid selfish decisions fall back on him. He knows he shouldn’t give a single shit, but he does. 

His tiredness fades with his mother, but he’s still exhausted because Roman keeps trying to fuck with Logan when he knows damn well Remus won’t let him. The selfish ass. This time, Roman has the gall to pull his entire scheme in front of Remus. 

“Logan,” He starts, his affected air is slightly dim today and his hands are hidden, “To apologize for my unkind actions, I have brought a peace offering.” 

Roman hands Logan a little bag from a restaurant Remus swears he recognizes. 

“Oh, thank you.” Logan says quietly, opening the bag and pulling out a wrapped burger. 

Logan takes it out and inspects it as Remus wracks his brain trying to remember where he knows the packaging. It hits him right before Logan takes a bite. This burger is from the restaurant that gave Roman food poisoning a few months ago. It looks like the same burger too. At this point, Remus is half-convinced Roman is taunting him. He’s in a bit of a panic and doesn’t think before he snatches the burger and shoves it in his mouth.

“Remus!” Both call out, the wrapper is still on the end of the burger so he pulls it out then chews and swallows the thing whole. 

He coughs and sputters for almost two minutes after, then shoots Roman an awful glare. 

“What just happened?” Logan asks, extremely puzzled. 

Roman is gawking at Remus again, “Why did you eat that!?” 

“Fuck you that’s why, you horsefucking shiteating egomaniac bastard.”

Roman walks off in a huff, Remus lays on the floor. 

“Are you alright?” Logan questions, handing him a water bottle.

Maneuvering onto his side, Remus takes a sip and his throat feels miles better, “I just straight up ate a burger whole like a fucking snake, how do you think I am dipshit?”

“Hm,” He pauses to think, “Bad.” 

Both boys laugh, and Logan joins Remus on the ground.

“I am beginning to believe your brother has a vendetta against me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Logan pauses, looking at Remus who is still occasionally wheezing.

“Are you alright...emotionally?” Remus wheezes and laughs at the same time, sounding something similar to a goose. 

“‘Thought you didn’t know much about those, poindexter.”

“I do not. However, as your friend I feel like it’s important to ask.”

Remus just sighs, closes his eyes, and blows a raspberry at the ceiling.

“Me and Roman are complicated.”

“I can tell.” Remus laughs, Logan really is something else. 

It’s quiet when Remus asks, “Do you hate him?”

“No,” Logan’s response is measured and confident like he’s asked himself this question a hundred times, “I don’t hate him. I think he’s got some things to work out, and is taking out his frustration on me as of late.”

He keeps talking, Remus covers his closed eyes with his arm, “More importantly, do you hate him?”

He almost rockets to his feet when Logan says curiously, “Or, more interestingly, do you love him?”

It takes him nearly two and a half minutes sat up and sipping water, watching Logan pack his things, to muster up the will to tell the truth. 

“Of course I love him. Nobody else is gonna fucking do it.” 

He could barely comprehend Logan’s response to his admission so he shoved it out of his mind with all the force he could muster, then waved a goodbye to him when he parted and left Remus with his mind. 

He ends up going home early because his awful decision ended up actually giving him food poisoning. He takes a sick day the next day, and spends most of the time feeling like shit physically and emotionally. His brain has kept tabs on all the shitty feelings and thoughts he’s had and is now playing out a full length shitty horror movie about his life and his dumb brother and his shitty summer crush. Then there’s that conversation with Logan. The last sentence is running through him over and over again. He keeps coming back to it, though he’s sure Logan didn’t even mean anything by it. Seventeen words and his world was sent spinning. 

“Ah, I understand, it’s hard to love somebody when they don’t act like they love you back.” 

Logan doesn’t even know the half of it. 

August 20th - Roman asked me directly to leave the production. Though I admire the effort, all it achieved was a quite awful night, and an angry lecture(?) of sorts from Janus. I do not believe Roman will be trying this tactic ever again.

Roman tries to apologize multiple times, but something angry and petty in Remus doesn’t accept any of them. They’re both getting more and more frustrated by the minute. By the time the thirteenth of August rolls around they aren’t on speaking terms again and everyone can tell that it’s taking its toll on them both. Remus acts out more than usual against people he doesn’t usually target. He scared an ensemble girl one too many times, to the point where she ended up slapping him. He deserved it, but it still stung. Roman poured himself into his role more than ever, but it only ended up stressing him out even more than usual. When his voice so much as wavered on stage it shattered his confidence. 

It affected their friends as well. Roman spent more time with Patton and Emile, avoiding Remus and Janus as much as he could possibly manage. Janus rolled his eyes but just resigned himself to the tech booth with Virgil, Remus, and Logan. The only good thing that was happening lately was Janus’ newfound attachment to Logan. The pair's insane intelligence and love of debate meant one was nearly guaranteed every other time they were in the same room. It was exhilarating to watch, and probably exhilarating to take part in. Remus didn’t much care for debates, but watching Janus and Logan go at each other with an occasional snarky comment or new suggestion from Virgil was making him grow a fondness for them. At this point there was barely anybody in the theatre who didn’t adore Logan.

The staff, the cast, the tech. Everyone adored him. He was smart, diligent, and hard-working. He asked questions, didn’t undermine others, and respected the entire cast's talent at what they did. It was magical to watch everyone in the auditorium drift under Logan’s thumb. Remus was included. They were saving Say No To This until near last because of the lack of dancing involved, but it didn’t even matter. Say No To This was not needed in Remus’ seduction plan because Logan seemed to gravitate towards him with ease. He is a damn good friend and Remus is determined to make that boy his bride. 

Despite his growing lack of sleep and reliance on caffeine, Remus is skating by just fine without anything bad happening. Until his brother decides to fuck with his life again. He’s on the thin line between being shitty in secret and full-on breakdown, Roman really isn’t helping his case. Remus is lounging on the floor while Logan reads in a chair next to the makeup mirrors. He hears someone enter, but isn’t bothered enough to move. 

Ever the polite, Logan greets the newcomer “Ah, Hello Roman, how are you?”

“I need to ask you something.” His brother asks, and Remus turns his head away from the noise. 

“Alright, what is it?” Logan sounds so measured and calm.

There is a long pause, “What is it going to take for you to realize you should quit?”

The calmness in Logan’s voice wavers, and Remus can hear it wobble, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! I mean, it’s obvious I've been trying to get you to leave, so what’s been keeping you!?” Roman raises his voice near instantly, that same childish selfishness burns from his tongue. 

“It is none of your business.” There’s a dignified fire raging under his voice now, it’s like he’s been practicing for this. 

“You’re not even a good actor! From what I can tell, you’re entirely uninteresting and way too intellectual to be here!” Roman continues, Remus feels the urge to get up but he can’t find the will to move. 

“Roman, please think before you say something you regret.” Remus knows what Roman is going to say before it happens.

“No!” His brother is so typical, “You have no idea what this role means to me, why can’t you just leave!?”

That’s typical too, Remus opens his eyes and looks at the pair. Logan looks pissed off, Roman looks pissed off, and Janus is watching from the doorway. 

“I try very hard to give you the benefit of the doubt in regards to your debilitating egomania, but it is beginning to appear as if your whole sense of stability and purpose is built upon some false reality where you need to be the star at every possible moment. Go to therapy about it, and leave me alone.” Logan spits this in Roman’s face, then turns back to his book. 

Clenching his fists and staring at the ground, Roman looks almost defeated until he catches Remus staring and his face morphs into something so bitter he has to force himself to look away. 

“No. I will not leave you alone until I get this part. None of you have any idea how much I need it.” 

“Roman-” Janus speaks up daringly from his spot by the door, his tone is enough to warn him to stand down. 

Roman’s eyes are squeezed shut, his fists are clenched, “I know we have the same face, but I’m not a failure like my brother.”

That sends Remus to his feet and out the door before anyone can say a word. As he passes Janus on the way out Janus tries to stop him but he pushes past him, past everyone, and out the front door of the theatre. 

Janus turns on Roman in an instant, walking slowly into the room and shutting the door with purpose. Roman’s eyes are sewed shut and all the guilt he tries to push down floods him when he makes eye contact with his pissed off friend. 

“Roman, we need to have a talk.” 

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Lady Wifi (part 1)

Marillion AU

“Come on...”, Marillion whispered into the glowing outline in front of her. “You can do it! You've practiced the entire morning, you've got this!”

“But they're all looking at me!”, her champion - The Magician, an amateur entertainer with stage fright from Mendeleiev's class - whispered back. After failing at a simple trick this morning her brooch had alarmed her of his distress, and since she couldn’t focus until it was resolved she had akumatized him. It was supposed to be quicker than talking to him as Marinette, but her lacking experience with a miraculous showed: she'd had to spend almost half an hour convincing him that letting out his frustration on the Eiffel Tower wouldn’t help him. Now, instead of making Paris' most famous monument disappear, he was trying to impress children at the Trocadero. Not the greatest challenge with his new magical powers, but that wasn’t the point.

“It doesn’t matter.”, she calmed him. “You can’t fail! You are using real magic now, they'll be so amazed they won’t even know you’re nervous.”

“But it won’t be forever! And then I’ll just do regular card tricks, and probably ruin it again.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But in my experience, when you’re feeling scared you're twice as likely to make a mistake! I'm just helping you to get some experience with crowds, so that you'll feel surer next time. Some positive feedback is always good to lift a creative block.”

She always went to her parents when she couldn’t finish a design. Their genuine awe and pride of her abilities never failed to get her back on her feet. But since the Magician didn’t want to call his parents, the job to encourage him fell to her.

“Okay... I... I'll try!”

He stepped forward and took off his cylinder, ready to create a cloud of white butterflies. The kids cooed and awed, and the Magician smiled hesitantly. Marillion gave him a thumbs-up from her hiding place on the roofs.

It went flawless, after that. He made little lights and clouds of colorful smoke, more butterflies and even made himself dis- and reappear a few times. The children were utterly fascinated and their laughter and applause warmed her heart. And her champion's as well: soon the clouds of butterflies were joined by a freshly purified akuma and the Magician transformed back into a carefree, laughing boy.

“See?”, she said to no one. The link to her champion had gone vacant when he had detransformed. With a last smile towards her freed akuma she turned around and vanished with a swirl of her tailcoat.

This had been a great morning after all.

-

“This is a horrible morning!”, Alya complained to Tikki. Not only had she failed to identify her nemesis via a cutout of Marillion, she had even been caught by Bustier! And Marinette wasn't here to distract her!

“Well, I did tell you to focus on your lessons.”, her cherished but unbearably goody-two-shoes friend replied. “Besides, it’s impossible to recognize the wielder of a miraculous. Your masks are magical, remember?”

“It was worth a try.”, she shrugged. “And hey, its not like you’re the one who has to focus for two hours on the most boring subject there is. Oh! Rose, Juleka! Have you seen Marinette?”

Tikki hurried to hide in her bag while her classmates shook their heads and she moved on.

“Where is that girl?”

“She said she didn’t feel well. Maybe she went home?”

“But she left her bag here!”

Tikki raised an eyebrow - or at least the skin where her eyebrows would be, if she had any.

“Because your friend never forgets anything, right?”

Good point. She loved her BFF, but Marinette sure was a mess.

“I‘ll look at her locker. If she's not there I'll just bring her bag over to her home.”

Any excuse to go by the Dupain-Cheng Patisserie was fine with her. The croissants were incredible, and Tikki barely ate anything except their delicious macarons. In her mind she was already sinking her teeth in the artwork of a pastry when a ruffling sound stopped her. Was that... Chloé?

Indeed. The blonde b... beast was hurriedly packing something into that overly expensive handbag of her, and she looked very keen on not being watched. Alya's eyes narrowed and she hid behind a corner. Suspicious!

Her spying- observing turned out to be worth it. Thanks to her infallible intuition and sixth sense as superhero, she was able to witness it: Chloé Bourgeois, heiress to the mayor of Paris and his empire of hotels, meanest little brat under the sun... pulled a purple mask out of her locker. A butterfly shaped mask. And ribbons that matched Marillion's.

The bell rang and startled Alya out of her stupor. She quickly disappeared into the yard before Chloé - Marillion! - could spot her.

“Did you see that?”, she hissed to her Kwami, still not believing her luck. “Oh my god, Tikki! Did you see that?”

“I... uh, I did? But Alya-“

“This is Perfect, with a capital P!”, she cackled. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell everyone! By tomorrow I'll have thwarted my nemesis AND the school bully. Admit it, I’m the best superhero you ever had, right? It hasn’t even been a week since Stoneheart!”

Tikki struggled to keep up.

“Alya, you know I believe in you and your great potential, but I really doubt that-“

“I'll have to prepare my article for the Ladyblog! This is gonna be the scoop of the century, Tikki!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t rush-“

“This spoiled little brat really thought she'd get away with it, huh? Thought that just 'cause she's pretty in purple I’ll have mercy? Well, think again, Marillion! Now that I know who she really is, I suddenly don’t find her attractive in the slightest!”

“Wait, you think Marillion is attractive? Why didn’t you say anything-“

“I don’t! Not anymore, at least, and even if she weren’t Chloé... She isn’t that pretty. Villainy is not her color. Oh! I gotta remember that line for when I confront her. It could be my new catchphrase.”

“Alya!”, Tikki called out with more volume than should be possible for her tiny body. Immediately her chosen fell quiet. “Alya, please think this through! We don’t have any proof of Chloé being Marillion. And her suit is created by the miraculous! Why would Marillion carry her mask around if she can make it appear with a few magic words?”

Alya scoffed.

“You don’t know her. Chloé has an Ego that thwarts the Eiffel Tower, she'd totally be the type to wear her own merch. Besides, no one ever said supervillains were smart, hm?”

“But Marillion saved Chloé, don’t you remember? When Stoneheart dropped her. They can’t be the same person, we’ve seen them together!”

“Well...” This time Alya actually paused, but soon waved it off. “Don’t you think that’s weird? First Marillion causes her to fall, then she catches her... sounds a little staged to me. She totally did that to deceive us! She's got the means, her miraculous is really op.”

“But-“

“Nah-ah. You can’t apply logic where Chloé - or magic! - is involved. But if you insist on a second opinion, I'll go and tell Nino! Oh, and I'll leave a message for Marinette.”

Tikki sighed deeply as her chosen talked on. She loved Alya with all her heart, but sometimes her creativity expressed itself in ways that weren’t always... productive. This was going to be exhausting.

-

“Did he just... die?”, Marinette asked, baffled by that utterly random turn of events. What a ridiculous ending!

Nooroo didn’t answer, instead he desperately shoved popcorn into his little mouth.

“Hey, are you crying?”, she gasped and moved to grab the tissues. Stubborn her Kwami shook his head, despite the obvious tears that ran down his little cheek.

“Oh, honey!”, Marinette tried to comfort him. “It's just a movie. They're okay in reality, I promise!”

“'M not shad!”, he insisted, the words muffled by the sugary popcorn in his mouth. “I kno' they're oh-righ.”

He hiccuped and hurried to take the tissue she offered, blowing his nose. His voice a little clearer now, he swallowed and rubbed his eyes.

“It's just that... he wanted to be better, didn’t he? He wanted to be good! And then, when he finally did it, he... he...”

Oh. Maybe this movie had been a bad idea after all.

“He was good now.”, she assured him. “And he was happy! For... a moment.”

Admittedly, that was a weak argument. Gosh, time to distract him.

“Maybe we should watch Pride and Prejudice next? No bad endings, I swear! Plus, the dynamic is really similar and I'm sure you'll adore Keira Knightley!”

Nooroo sniffled and looked up at her.

“Are you sure? It's almost four o’clock in the morning.”

“What?!”

A panicked glance at her phone confirmed Nooroo's statement and she all but hauled herself up the ladder to her bed.

“I’ve got school tomorrow!”, she wailed and frantically tucked herself in. “That means I'll have to get up in three hours! That means I won’t get enough sleep! That means I’ll have bags under my eyes and yawn like a hippo just when Adrien looks at me! Alya is going to think I’m a freak who stays up all night like a vampire! This is a disaster!”

“Uhm... are you sure that's going to happen?”

“With my luck? Definitely.”

-

Contrary to her fears, she did not wake up dead tired and embarrassed herself in front of everyone. No, she didn’t wake up at all!

Until Nooroo gently nudged her shoulder, that is, to inform her that they had overslept.

“Noooo! No, no, no!”, she all but cried as she shoved her homework into her bag and got dressed. “Damn Disney for making this many movies!”

“Marinette, you lost something!”

Eagerly Nooroo caught the note that had fallen out of her bag and gave it to her.

“It's from Alya!”, she realized and her eyes widened. “What?! She found out who the real Marillion is?”

Her Kwami gasped.

“Oh no!”

“We gotta hurry! Before she tells anyone!”

-

“I'm telling you, she is Marillion!”, Alya insisted and pointed at Chloé. “So what if I took a measly photo of her locker? She's a supervillain! You have to search her for her miraculous!”

Monsieur Damocles cleared his throat.

“Mademoiselle Césaire, I understand if you feel embarrassed, but that’s no reason to make such accusations. Please don’t aggravate your situation.”

“Aggravate her situation? She broke into my locker!”, Chloé - that little monster - complained. “How can it get worse than that?”

M. Damocles blinked.

“She, uhm, is kind of accusing you of terrorism?”

“What, because she called me Marillion? That’s a compliment, though not one I want to her from the likes of her. But what about my locker?! Suspend her already!”

The headmaster sighed deeply. He wasn’t paid enough to deal with these kids.

“A week of suspension, and now out of my office.”

“WHAT?!”

-

When Marinette entered the class, she was prepared for betrayed looks and roared accusations. Instead, everything was silent as Bustier wrote something on the blackboard. And Alya was missing.

Nervously she tapped Nino on the shoulder.

“Where is she?”, she whispered and nodded to Alya's vacated seat. Nino shook his head. “She got into a fight with the Principal because she thinks Chloé is Marillion. She's even been suspended!”

“What?!”, she yelled, but she wasn’t the only one. Adrien had been surprised as well.

After Bustier rebuked her for the disruption, Adrien leaned over to Nino as well.

“What do you mean, Chloé is Marillion?”

“That’s what Alya thinks. Crazy, huh? Not that I wouldn’t suspect Chloé of being a supervillain, but... yeah, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“That's horrible!”, Marinette murmured, masking her relief that her secret was safe. Poor Alya! “We've got to do- Ah!”

With no warning a wave of hot red anger crashed into her, searing through her brooch. She barely noticed Madame Bustier sending her to the Principal, she was already on her way out and running towards the bathroom.

“Marinette!”, Nooroo worried as she gasped in air and waited for it to pass. “Oh, this is bad. The closer your bond to a person, the stronger you feel their emotions!”

“Don’t worry about me.”, she said, the pain already receding. “Worry about Alya! She must be so hurt and we've got to help-“

She fell silent all of a sudden. Nooroo paused.

“Marinette? What happened?”

She shook her head, confused.

“It... stopped.”

Her eyes widened.

“I can’t feel her anymore.”

- - -

Any guesses what movie they watched? ;)

[7-wonders]

This Place of Wrath and Tears

Summary: Jim is missing, and nothing can prepare you for what you stumble upon in your quest to find him.

Word Count: 2024

A/N: Hey gang, this work falls in the Duncan Shepherd/Beauty and the Beast AU that I started a couple weeks ago. The “prologue” will be linked below. I would appreciate any feedback, including if I should continue this and what you want to see next. Thanks for reading!

Wilted Roses Smell Just as Sweet

The woods that you find yourself stumbling through are especially dark, enough so that you can’t see your hands in front of your face. Sticks snapping under your feet cause you to walk faster in the hopes that the animals calling to each other amongst the foliage won’t catch on that you’re not welcome here.

If you could have, you would have turned back around the moment the sun dipped below the treeline. But you can’t, not when Jim’s life is on the line. Of course, no one would have blamed you for not being able to finish this impromptu rescue mission. It’s not your fault that your best friend had to go and get himself in trouble when he was supposed to be on a solo photography trip. It’s entirely possible that Jim’s not even in danger; you have no concrete proof that he’s not, after all. The string of texts that you had received from him earlier, however, have left a sinking in your stomach unlike any you had ever felt before.

The Appalachians are beautiful, you can stand on a hill and see for miles!

Everything’s so clear out here, you would love it

Huh, just found a McMansion in the middle of the forest. Who would have thought the 1% hid out where even the moonshiners wouldn’t go?

It looks like it’s lived in...and the door’s unlocked

Holy shit, this is trippy

It literally looks like people just packed up and left, but there’s no mention of this house on any map I looked at

I think there’s somebody here

I don’t know, it feels like I’m being watched

I need to leave

That was the last text that you had received from him, and in the four hours since you had opened his message, he hadn’t responded to any of your calls and texts. This was extremely unlike Jim, who always made sure to respond to you. The perk of two best friends with abandonment issues is that the other is always hyper aware of how a lack of communication feels.

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, you were only a couple of hours away from Jim’s last shared location on Find My Friends. Making a split-second decision, you had hopped in your car and started driving, eventually having to walk. Now, you could only hope he was safe, and that you would be safe once you found him.

The cold is beginning to stiffen your fingers, and you flex them uncomfortably to keep the blood flowing when a sudden break in the dense brush gives you a burst of much-needed hope. Peeking through, you’re delighted to see what could only be described as a McMansion. It’s absolutely huge, and it’s impossible to not wonder how construction crews managed to ferry the materials needed to build such a home in the middle of the overgrown woods. 

You break into a sprint, dashing up the stone stairs to the oversized front door. It’s made of a dark wood, and your heart clenches in your chest when you notice claw marks on the surface. Checking your phone to make sure this is the same location that Jim’s phone last showed, you knock once, twice, three times before taking a step back.

The door creaks open, but there’s no face on the other side to greet you or ask what you’re doing at such an odd hour. Still, someone opened the door, and though the main lights are turned off, a dim light from inside beckons you in. Creeping into the home, you look around for whoever may have answered your call. You gasp in fear when the door closes behind you, grabbing your chest as if to stop your heart from racing away from you when you see that there’s nobody around.

“H-hello?” you stutter, cursing yourself for sounding like the protagonist in a B-rated horror film.

“It’s a girl!” Whirling around at the voice, your eyes search through the dimness to see who’s talking. Another voice shushes them, and the original whines, “sorry, I just got excited.”

“Um, I’m looking for my friend,” you try, turning around when you hear scuffling from behind you. “Jim Mason? He sent me some texts that had me really worried for him, and his phone said this was his last location.”

“I can help you.” This time, you’re sure you’re going crazy when you hear a voice. It sounded like they were right behind you, but spinning around reveals no one. At this point, you’re starting to get a little dizzy.

“Who’s there?” You don’t get an answer in the form of a response, only another door opening. “Do I--should I follow you?” Whatever, if you’re talking to air, you’re at least going to utilize it.

“He’s being kept in the basement!” The door that opened leads to stairs going down, so you assume that’s where you’re supposed to go. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you turn the flashlight on to keep from tripping and falling.

The basement’s even colder than the forest that surrounds it, your breath coming out in visible puffs as you wrap an arm around yourself. “Jim?” 

It’s silent for a long moment, and then you hear a weak cough from the other end of the dingy room. “(Y/N)?”

“Jim!” Any hesitancy towards the fact that your best friend is being held captive goes out the window upon hearing his voice, and you run towards him until your flashlight shines on his face.

You can’t help the gasp that escapes you at the sight of him. His lip is cut open, and his right eye is black and blue. His skin, which had been the same golden-bronze as always when you saw him last week, was ashen now. You fall to your knees in front of him, not even able to fully embrace him due to the cell he’s trapped in. You settle for grabbing his hands with yours, cringing at the iciness of his skin and hoping that some of your warmth transfers to him.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” Jim says, wincing at the pain speaking puts on his cut. “I really thought I was going to die here since that--that thing took my phone from me and I couldn’t call for help.”

“We share our locations with each other, remember?”

“Oh thank God for that.”

“I have to get you out of here.” You stand up, begrudgingly letting go of Jim’s hands to look for a lock. “What did you mean when you said ‘that thing’ took your phone? Like, this is some psycho who likes to lure people into his house and lock them in his basement?”

If it’s possible, Jim manages to look even more pale. “I...whatever it was that dragged me down here, it wasn’t human. It was like a giant wolf, but it talked like a normal person. I’ve never seen anything like it, and frankly I hope I never have to see anything like it again.”

“Are you sure you don’t just have a concussion? I mean, monsters, that’s a little…”

“I know it sounds crazy (Y/N), believe me, but I’ve never been so sure of something before.”

“Okay, it’s okay Jimmy, I believe you.” You resort to calling him by his nickname to calm him down, smiling at him reassuringly while fishing two paper clips out of your backpack. “Aha! I knew they were hiding somewhere in there.”

“Oh fuck yeah, your hoarding habits are actually helping!”

“Funny,” you say with a look that conveys how not funny he is. Straightening out the small pieces of metal, you go to work at picking the lock a la Nancy Drew. Jim watches your hands as they twist and turn, listening closely to try and hear the lock click. “I think I’ve almost got it.”

Your words, meant to reassure him, fall on deaf ears as Jim stares wide-eyed behind you. His mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to call out to you, but you don’t notice. Only when a large hand, that looks almost like a paw, comes down on your shoulder and yanks you away from the cell does Jim manage to yell at you to “run!”

You fall against the cement floor, phone skidding across the ground until it’s too far from your grasp. Something moves in the shadows, deliberately staying cloaked among the dark to keep you from seeing the identity of whoever threw you down.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out much stronger than it did when you first arrived at this manor, although that might be from the adrenaline.

“The master of the house,” someone says from next to you. Looking up, all you can see in the small beam of light that your phone is casting up is a pair of angry blue eyes, wild like you’ve never seen a person’s.

“I’ve come for my friend.”

“Your friend,” this person spits, the growling tone making you shudder, “was trespassing. Now he’s my prisoner.”

“You can’t keep him locked up here, that’s cruel and illegal!”

The figure chuckles darkly, their eyes pinned to you as they move away from the light. “This situation defies the binds of normal society.” You have the feeling he’s not just talking about locking Jim up.

“(Y/N), please go. I’ll be fine here, I promise.” Jim looks so sincere that you almost believe him.

“No, Jim. You’ve been doing so good in your recovery; I’m not going to let you throw that support system away due to some psycho keeping you locked in their basement!” 

Jim had been completely clean for 293 days now, which was the longest he had been sober since he began abusing drugs and alcohol as a teenager. You were insanely proud of him, having dealt with some of his worse relapses in the years that you had known him. Still, you know how precarious sobriety is for a recovering addict, especially in the first year, and how vital a routine and good support from doctors is to maintaining that. You can’t let him lose this battle, not after he’s worked so hard.

“You said he’s your prisoner? Like, this is his punishment for trespassing?” The shadow hums their confirmation. “Then...then let me take his place. Let me serve his sentence.”

“What?” Jim cries in disbelief. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re thinking the same thing. This is stupid and beyond dangerous, but it’s the only chance Jim has of getting out of here alive.

“I’ll be fine, Jim. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You...you would do that? Take your friend’s place, just like that?” Jim’s captor says like they can’t believe anyone would ever do such a thing.

“If I did, you promise that you would let Jim go?”

“Yes, your friend would be free to leave.”

“And how long were you planning on keeping him here?”

There’s a long silence before you receive an answer. “Four months.” The voice is tense, although you’re not sure why. After all, you’re the one who’s about to be the prisoner here.

“Alright then, I’ll take his place.” You deliberately block out Jim’s shouts of protest as the shadow moves past you, keys jingling loudly when the cell gets unlocked. Jim crashes into you, your arms going around each other as you embrace.

“I’m going to get you out of here, (Y/N), I promise.” Jim is dragged away from you by the collar of his shirt, your grip on him being no match for the strength this creature possesses.

“No, wait! At least let me say goodbye.” The shadow ignores you so well, it’s as if you don’t even speak.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you! And when I do, I’ll beat this motherfucker to a pulp!” You laugh bitterly through your tears as you watch Jim disappear around the corner. The gravity of the situation begins to hit you, and you breathe out heavily while you wonder if you just signed your own death warrant.

//

Tiny little taglist (just some people that liked/commented/reblogged the last part): @kkxnzie @im-the-music-whore​ @loopnootsboots​ @guiltyfiend​ @lvngdvns​ @langdondelrey​ @holylangdon​ @ccodyfern​ 

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 2

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: 1- haha syke (sort of lol)! 2-thats why i asked this question, now you know!

yes, thats the only notes you need lol! oh and FEEDBACK PLEASE! :) please tell me how you think their coffee “date” will go?? would mean a lot!

Chapter 2 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

"Honey! I'm home!" I yelled as I walked inside, closing the door behind me and throwing my purse on the couch.

"Kitchen, babe!"

I followed the voice with a small smile and leaned against the door frame as I watched him bend down to take something off the oven. I crossed my arms and stared at him, trying to suppress a chuckle. With a quick head movement, he pushed a lock of his hair out of his face and raised his eyebrows at me with a smirk. I moved closer to him, taking a few steps slowly as he put the cookies he had just not burned for once in a plate.

"You know your son is way too young for cookies, right?"

His eyes became smaller as he looked at me and it made me laugh even more.

"I made them for you, silly!"

"Louis, come on." I pointed out with a frown. "I just spent two hours tasting wedding cakes and you think i'm in the mood for cookies?"

With a grimace, he grabbed two cookies and put one in front of me before sitting next to me at the table. I made the cookie turn around as I stared at it, feeling suddenly a bit nervous. I wasn't really sure I wanted to have this discussion but I told Louis everything. I was surely not going to keep that kind of information from him.

"Okay my queen, talk to me, what happened?"

He slid his arm on the table until his hand reached mine. I let go of the cookie and gripped his fingers tight. His hand was warm, as it always was, but it took me a few seconds to look up in his eyes. When I did, my heart skipped a beat. He was clearly concerned and worried and I just shrugged a shoulder before looking down again.

"I saw Niall."

Suddenly, the grip of his fingers became tighter and I held my breath. Louis and I had been through so much together during the past year and I was scared this would somehow change the dynamic we had. I knew he kept talking with Niall from time to time but it was far from being the way it used to be between them. I never asked Louis to choose between us, and I never even made allusions to it for the simple reason that they were friends before we were and I knew he still considered Niall like a brother. Who was I anyway to decide who Louis could and couldn't hang out with?

That being said, Louis and I had worked on ourselves individually a lot. We both went to therapy, tried to follow our dreams, found love and learned to accept ourselves as full human beings. We didn't need love to be complete and we didn't need our soulmates either. Of course, it didn't feel so easy when Niall was close but if I wanted to be honest, I thought it would hurt a lot more to see him again.

"He was with his girlfriend?"

"No." I replied with a shrug before adding a 'thank god' in my head.

"How did that make you feel?"

I took a few seconds to think and finally looked up, my eyes meeting his as a small smile spread across my lips.

"It's... Niall, you know? I'll always feel something when he's around. That's what you said, right? Soulmates and all that?" He nodded slowly and I shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, I will love him forever but... he broke me, and I don't want to let him break me again."

Louis' face change and he sent me a sincere smile before nodding quickly this time. He squeezed my fingers and tapped my thigh a few times a bit too roughly.

"Ow!"

"That's my queen!"

He got up and kissed the top of my head, making me roll my eyes but chuckle. He walked to the fridge and took a beer out before opening it and throwing the cap in the sink. I stared again at the cookie on the table and swallowed, playing over and over the encounter I had with Niall in my head. He looked good and happy and I couldn't help but think that he never regretted his decision to break up with me. Of course, it took him a few months to get a new girlfriend but when he did, something inside of me died. I remembered exactly when I found out he was dating someone and it was probably the biggest slap in the face I had ever had. I cried for a week, wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. All I could think about was how his love for me, if it ever existed, was clearly not strong enough but even worse, he didn't even try to keep my friendship.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds as I tried to get my heartbeats back to a normal pace. I couldn't hide anything to Louis, even if I wanted.

"Not so much him but what I meant for him."

Louis walked back next to me and crouched down, one of his knees on the floor and his hand on my thigh. He waited until our eyes met and he raised his eyebrows.

"We've been through that, remember?" Louis pointed out in a soft tone. "He was scared to be trapped and he let go of the most important person in his life. You were not the problem, Liv."

"He's with someone now." I just said, shaking me head, after letting out a long sigh. "And with her too I mean, he replaced me with her."

Louis nodded very slowly, pressing his lips together and making the left corner of my lips raise up.

"Yes, besides you, my friend Neil has very bad tastes in women."

It was not true at all but I appreciated the lie and I tilted my head to stare at Louis. I had moved back to my apartment after Niall broke up with me and Louis was the one who had picked my stuff at Niall's for me. We hung out together and he's the one who pushed me to write what I wanted to write. My father agreed to make a special section for my story on his site and within a few hours, there were more views than any other page of the site. I found someone to play the male character and I gave myself the role of the female one until I got the e-mail that literally changed my life.

Netflix. I barely believed it and I had to read the e-mail twice but it turned out to be real and after some negotiation, my tv show was about to be re-made with a bigger budget and real actors and this time, it was going to be seen by way more people. I didn't have to insist to keep playing in it, they quickly agreed to that term of the contract and it surprised me. Apparently, I was not so bad of an actress, who would have known? That's why I moved to L.A. with Louis : to live a dream I wasn't even aware I had before, when I was dating Niall. There are so many things I didn't know when I was with him, including who I was. Now, it was different.

"So." Louis continued, getting up to grab his beer again. "Did you girls go with Liam's request and pick chocolate?"

I raised my eyebrows in amusement and my lips parted a bit as we stared at each other.

"How do you know that?"

Louis' smile turned into a smirk. "He asked me and I said I wanted chocolate too! So I said he should harass Julie and he said I should harass you. So I had to challenge him, and he lost."

My face twisted and I frowned, suddenly a bit scared.

"What was the challenge?"

"Oh, darling, you don't want to know." his accent had turned thicker and his smirk bigger, making me shake my head. "Trust me."

"You're right, I don't want to know."

He laughed a bit and moved his chin in my direction as he leaned against the counter, his beer still in hand. He took the last sip and put it away before swallowing and licking his lips. I loved Louis. I really, really loved Louis.

"So? Chocolate?"

I grimaced and sent him an offended look as I shook my head again.

"It's like you don't even know me!"

"What did you pick then?"

I didn't have time to answer. My lips just parted a bit before we both heard the doorbell. I jumped on my feet and we both rushed to the living room to reach the front door.

"Me!" I yelled as I tried to be faster than him.

"Oh please, it's clearly for me!"

I laughed as he pushed my hips with his and even more when both our hands ended up on the knob, twisting it at the same time without opening the door. We laughed and when the door finally opened wide, my smile grew.

"So, who won this time?"

I forgot the game I had with Louis and barely even heard my boyfriend's question. I just tilted my head and bit my bottom lip. He looked pretty and the way he smiled always got to me. Louis let him walk in and he just opened his arms, bending down slightly to wrap them around my waist and pull me up. I laughed like a school girl and looked down at him, bringing my lips against his.

"Clearly, I won." I whispered only for him to hear, licking my lips before kissing him again.

He chuckled against my mouth and finally put me down but I kept him close and deepened the kiss. The fact that we were still acting like new lovers was nice and I hoped it would never stop.

After moving here, we were about to cast auditions for the other characters but I was mostly nervous about the male lead since I was going to do most scenes with him and even kiss him. I was allowed to have a say in who they would pick but before we could even start the auditions, I received a message on twitter. My account was not private anymore and was even verified, which was something I never thought would ever be possible. I was not the kind of person who liked attention but it was still important for me to remain on social medias, even if I wasn't online as much as other people.

Most of the messages I was tagged in were about Niall and I couldn't blame his fans who asked about me but it was surprising to see it even after so long. At first, the tweets about some of them being 'devastated' by our break-ups made me cry but now I just felt nostalgic of what I once had with him. One time, though, I got a notification that I was tagged in a post and when I clicked on it, I choked on my coffee. Dylan O'Brien. Dylan fucking O'Brien had tagged me and had added 'would love to play in your show!'

After a few days of chatting online, we had finally decided to talk on the phone and I realized he was the funniest and sweetest guy in the world. It's only really the very first time I met him that I realized I had it bad, though. He came to the audition but in my head, the part was already his, and when our eyes met, I felt it inside of me. It could have been just me being starstruck but when he had smiled at me, my heart had fluttered in a way it hadn't since... since Niall.

"You two get a fuckin' room." Louis let out, but I could hear amusement in his voice.

I turned to him and he sent me a smirk just as I showed him my middle finger.

"I live here too, remember?" I asked jokingly.

The plan when we moved here was to buy a house together, support each other and spend as much time as we could with each other. Did Louis and I ever had sex after that infamous night? Maybe, but quickly, we had both stopped needing it. Not because we weren't in pain anymore, but because we had other distractions and other things to focus on. I hadn't received my first check yet but it was coming and I knew it. I couldn't wait to give some of my money to Louis for the house but only as a rent. He was keeping the house to live in it with his girlfriend while I had planned to move with Dylan very soon. Everything was falling into place, and just as I thought my life was exactly the way it was supposed to be, I saw Niall again.

"Yea well you two lovebirds will have the house for yourself tonight." Louis explained, grabbing his wallet from the coffee table and looking for his keys. "I'll be gone all night."

"Say hello to Eleanor for me!"

Louis sent me a smirk and a wink before walking up to us and bending down to kiss my cheek.

"Will do." he promised in a low tone. "Goodnight queen."

A few months earlier, I had heard Louis cry himself to sleep at night. It was not something unusual, I knew it happened from time to time since his mother had passed away, but I remember leaning against the wall of his room for half an hour, listening to him cry and crying with him. If he had wanted me to be there with him, he would have asked, I knew it, that's why I didn't knock or tried to talk to him, but at the same time, it was hard to handle, and I couldn't pretend I knew him as much as Eleanor did. He was also crying for her, I was well aware of that, and on that night, I had messaged her. I didn't have to beg her to come over, she just did. She literally took a fucking plane to come here and comfort him. If that's not love then I have no idea what is.

"Goodnight, pet."

Louis raised his eyebrows and pointed his finger at me. "Don't call me that, ever, remember?"

I just shrugged and laughed, feeling Dylan's hand grab my fingers gently as he chuckled too. He suddenly turned to me and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh hey, you were trying out wedding cakes today, how did it go?"

"She didn't pick chocolate mate, don't even bother." Louis grimaced, making Dylan smile more.

"Of course she didn't, i'd say..." he turned to me and his eyes got smaller as he pondered. "She hesitated and almost picked raspberry but ended up choosing.. strawberry and cream."

My lips curled and I shook my head. "How do you know me so well?"

"O'Brien, I hate you." Louis just said, slapping gently my boyfriend's chest. "Thanks for making sound like a loser."

"You're welcome!" Dylan joked as I rolled my eyes at their interaction.

I waited as Louis typed something on his phone and he finally looked up at us and smiled before leaving. As soon as the door closed behind him, I received a text message and walked up to my purse to look at it.

'Tell him!!!!' Louis had typed with clearly too many exclamation points.

I just sent him a thumb up and when I went back, I felt my lips curl very slightly at the sight of the emoji Niall sent me. It was good seeing him, it felt amazing to be near him. It was so hard to realize that my best friend was not my best friend anymore, and although I knew that life is just like that sometimes, it still hurt. This year away from each other was needed, at least for me, to find myself, but I always thought Niall would remain in my life forever.

"So strawberries and cream uhm?" Dylan said to catch my attention. "I can live with that."

I threw my phone on the couch and sighed with a smile, turning his way. I grabbed the front of his shirt and finally looked up in his eyes, licking my lips as his hands reached my waist.

"Can you live with me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and making him chuckle low.

"Damn right I can."

He pulled me closer and kissed me, making my heart skip a beat. I had never compared Dylan to Niall but at that exact moment, I couldn't help myself. They were both smart, kind and funny, the main difference being that Dylan hadn't shattered my heart in pieces, at least not yet. The way they kissed was different too. Niall kissed me passionately, impatiently and deeply. Dylan kissed me gently, like I was something fragile, something important he didn't want to break, or simply because he wanted to take his time and feel every second of it. He kissed me like every kiss actually meant way more than we both thought.

I felt him deepen the kiss and my heart jumped again. I couldn't do anything with him before telling him about my day, and all I could see behind my eyelids was Louis' text message.

"Mm, I have something to tell you." I whispered against his lip, making him pull away immediately.

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes roaming on my face, and I suddenly felt extremely nervous. He was never the jealous type but I don't think anyone could enjoy their lover meeting again with their ex, especially knowing Niall and I's history.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing's wrong, no, don't worry." It wasn't a lie. I sent him a small smile and shrugged. "I just wanted you to know that... I saw Niall, today."

His eyebrows raised slightly but fell back down half a second later. He stared down at me, mostly trying to decipher how i felt about it instead to react to it, and it made something in my heart stir. He was perfect and I loved him, I really did.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked  gently after about a minute of silence. "How did it go?"

"It went... well." I admitted, nodding slowly and glancing down before looking up in his eyes. "He asked if we could meet again for a coffee but I didn't message him yet. I'm just not sure if I should go."

Dylan's lips curled slightly just as his eyebrows raised. "Not because of me, yea?"

I shrugged both shoulders, feeling suddenly embarrassed. One of the reasons why I was not sure was him, but an other part of me, a part I didn't want to show, was simply scared. I was scared that things wouldn't be like they used to be, I was scared that we wouldn't really get along, I was scared that the old me would resurface and I was scared... I was scared of the feelings I could have again if I spent time with him.

"You can go see him, Liv." he let out softly, bringing one of his hands to my face to caress my cheek with his fingertips. "Not that you were waiting for my approval or that you need it but, I know there's so many things you want to tell him and ask him and... it's normal. I can't even begin to understand the relationship you two had, all I know is... it was intense. There's some part of you that will always love him and I'm fine with that. Just... go. And you'll see."

Slowly, my lips curled as I stared at him. I brought my hand to his hair and slipped my fingers in it before sighing. I felt suddenly lighter and I was not sure why. Perhaps knowing that my boyfriend was fine with it helped.

I mouthed a 'thank you' and he smiled more, shaking his head.

"There's no reason to thank me." he just said, pulling me closer and kissing my lips. "I love you, Olivia."

I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, inhaling him before squeezing him tighter against me. It felt good and I felt safe but I finally pulled away and smiled.

"Okay so food and a movie?" he proposed, raising his eyebrows before I grimaced.

"Oh I wish, I mean food, but i'm gonna have to eat in front of my computer." I explained with a sigh, letting my head fall lightly on my shoulders. "I need to write and my mind is lazy these days."

"Why don't you inspire yourself of what we're going through right now?"

I stared at him and raised my eyebrows at the idea before Dylan just chuckled and winked at me. I knew that to write something good, it had to be close to something I was living, but playing it on screen was about to be a challenge if I did that.

"I'll make food you just... work."

I thanked him and grabbed my phone before sitting in front of my computer. I started typing a few ideas here and there but the truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about Niall. Dylan was right, there were many things I wanted to tell him, many things I wanted to ask. but at the same time, I was well aware that I wouldn't be able to let it out all at the same time. I also knew we had to be in a public place, if only to be sure I wouldn't end up yelling or in tears.

'Coffee tomorrow afternoon, are you free? 🤪’

I didn't want to let Niall make me emotional the way I used to be when we were dating, or even before. He always had so much power over me and I didn't want him to anymore. I didn't want anyone to have to much power over me.

'Always free for you 🥰’

The emoji he picked made my lips curl and I quickly texted him a time and place before putting my phone away. I stared at my work on the screen and sighed to myself. I didn't really want to add Niall to my story, I was too scared of how realistic it would become, since my real boyfriend was already playing my on-screen boyfriend, and I decided to push this idea away.

Dylan came back with a plate of pastas and it made me wonder how long I had spent in front of an almost empty document. He sat to face me and my eyes moved up to him.

"I'm stuck."

"Did you message Niall? Are you gonna see him soon?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at his question but he kept staring at me as he brought the fork to his mouth. The fact that it was super casual for him made me squirm a bit on my seat. Was that a good or a bad thing?

"Yea, tomorrow afternoon."

"Good." he nodded, pushing the plate my way. I sent him a smile and started eating too. "Maybe it'll inspire you."

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled when some sauce landed on my shirt and I quickly tried to wipe it off, making him laugh even more.

"Guess you're gonna have to take it off." he just pointed out.

I looked up at him only to see a smirk gracing his face and I chuckled too, tilting my head. I pushed my plate away and leaned closer to him, sending him an amused smile and keeping my voice low.

"Maybe you should take it off yourself."