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rainchyna · 1 year

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𓆩♡𓆪 episode five: WRESTLING WAR I.

i fought for my life so that y’all can see this so y’all better like it because we will fight >:( this ep is pretty uneventful apart from the promo but it’s kinda boring so i don’t blame y’all if you don’t like it LMAO we could’ve had FOUR EPISODES by now but tumblr stay being the biggest mf opp

6:47 am, training.

the nWo formed two days ago.

it’s been a really long time since you’ve last seen producers, writers, Vince and others be so panicked. it all happened so quickly too, the last thing anyone expected was for Hulk to be the the third man of the faction. it’s not like they can change anything now.

a day that has training usually starts at five for you and Bret. when you both arrived, Randy was there too. the place was a mess. there were a lot of employees running by, paperwork for upcoming storylines was being thrown around, rooms being turned into meeting halls. Randy explained that Vince, apparently, had trapped some people with him since last night and they’ve been writing and rewriting Raw for hours.

“I’ve never seen him so stressed” Bret said as he laced up his boots again, “it’s like his whole head of hair turned white overnight”. you hum, laid out on the ring mat. this meant a lot for you, you had to reinvent your character. introduce new moves, come up with some catchphrases, design some proper ring gear. last thing you need right now is for the audience to get bored of you.

“y’know” you sat up, “back in Japan, when I was in a mixed team with Shinya, we used to do this move where he’d power bomb someone then set them up on the turnbuckle, then I’d hit a running frankensteiner out in the concrete. do you think that would be too much if i do it here?” you ask.

“you worked with Shinya Hashimoto?!” Randy asked, “yeah?” you answer, “didn’t you know that?” you ask. Randy shrugged, “mixed matches are basically unheard of here” he says. can’t blame him, he’s right.

“I don’t think it’ll be too much, considering what will happen for this next period of time. I think Vince will be open to any type of exciting change” Bret says.

you began thinking of new things to add to your character and ways to introduce yourself to the fans, because up until now your gimmick just seems to be a shell of who you were in Japan. maybe you should just use your first name? or talk a certain way? maybe a major gimmick change! hm…

“Y/n?!” Bret called out for you, “huh?” you were zoned out. you look at him and there suddenly was a wild Vince Mcmahon standing outside the ring. his appearance made you jump a little, his hair was an absolute mess, his under eyes were dark and his eyes were red. his button up was wrinkly and the stress of work was showing on him.

“are you okay?” you ask, he nods with a hum as he rubs his temples. “I need all three of you in the office” he says, voice raspier than usual.

as you four walk towards the office you feared the worse, it was obvious that Vince was not in a great in mood at all. you were scared he’d ask you to do something stupid, or to change your gimmick and make a joke out of you.

you exhale, it was Vince McMahon. only so much can go wrong.

Vince begins scrambling for some papers as soon as you enter the office, you, Bret and Randy cram into a random couch in the room. it was something you guys always unconsciously did, cramming in one spot when there’s plenty of room around you.

“here” Vince hands you a paper, you quickly grab it and both men lean in with you to read as well. you frown, the paper was split into two parts, and names were arranged in columns and rows. Vince had picked out the teams for you and Taker.

“I thought you were going to let us pick out our own teammates..?” you half ask, it’s not like you hated your teammates, but you would’ve liked to have picked them out yourself.

“well, they’ve already been selected.” Vince said. you wanted to make him let you pick, but you didn’t want to argue with him today. “okay” you respond.

“why is my name on there?” Randy asked, “wouldn’t that be unfair to the other team?”

“don’t worry, I have a plan for you” Vince said.

please let this go well.

“for tonight’s Raw, I wanna see if you can do an unscripted promo. Taker’s part has been printed out but we left your lines out of his version.” Vince says sitting behind his desk.

“are you sure?” you ask, he nods. “I wanna see if you’re as reliable on a mic as you are in the ring” he explains.

please let this go well.

“okay”

10:22 am, y/n’s locker room.

“which one goes better with my shorts?” you ask holding up two tops in front of your mirror, both strapless, one is red leather and the other black denim.

“hello?” you look behind you, Steve had passed out on the couch while Owen was trying to shove what looked like a pen up his nose. “guys!”

Steve loudly snores himself awake while Owen immediately tries to look innocent. “you’re really not helping” you put the clothes down. “w-what? no, no, I am” Steve sits up, you roll your eyes. “you fell asleep” Owen says, “and you were trying to put a pen up his nose!” you flip on a chair near you.

Steve turns to smack Owen but you quickly jump between them, “you touch my baby, and I’ll smack the accent out of your speech” you threaten while Owen sticks his tongue out at Steve. “whaddya need help with anyway?” Steve asked.

“I wanted to know what I should wear for tonight’s segment” you say, “hasn’t your official gear come in yet?” Owen asks and you shake your head. “that red shirt looks alright” Steve points to your pile of clothes that was almost on the floor. “this one?” you pick it up.

“yeah” he nods, “what do you think Owen?” you ask the blond, “yeah, I think it’ll look cool, wear it with dark pants” he suggests.

“should I wear heels?” you ask, “high heels?” they both ask. “aren’t they a bit impractical?” Steve asks, “yeah, but we’re only doing a promo later, I’m not wrestling tonight” you reason. they both shrug, “go for it” Steve says.

you put on the outfit and your shoes, then unintentionally started an argument about cowboy hats between a texan and a canadian. Steve was raging about how you should wear a white one because it’s ‘classic’ and Owen wanted you to wear a red one to match your shoes.

never in your life did you ever think you’d hear Steve call Owen ‘maple syrup boy’.

“and what the hell do you know about cowboy hats, boy?!” Steve spat, “more than ya fuckin’ do!” Owen faked a southern accent. “guys?” you interrupt, “a red one would look better!” Owen said, “the hell it ain’t” Steve crossed his arms.

“guys!” you yell, they finally pay attention to you. “there’s hats of all colours in the dressing room” you explain. Owen gets up and grabs your arm, “then we’ll go and see which one looks better” he says.

hilariously, they’re both angrily stomping their way to the dressing room with you following closely behind them.

the door flies open and thank god there’s only two people in the room, it was Bret and Randy. y’all would’ve looked crazy in anyone else’s eyes.

as both men continue to argue while pulling out random hats from the accessories’ closet, Bret and Randy look at them confused, as if you could explain anything without them giving you their ‘really?’ faces.

you go and stand next to them, “Vince rewrote Raw” Bret said, your eyes widen as you look at him. “what do you mean he rewrote it?” you ask. you were supposed to be improvising, you weren’t worried that much, but you still wanted to know. “he printed you a promo I think” he added.

now you needed to know.

“when did he do that?” you ask, “like an hour ago” Randy said, “and why didn’t he tell me?” you sigh. “you should talk to him, me and Steve have a match later and he rescheduled it like five or six times so far” Bret explained.

you groan, head falling into the palm of your hand. “no I insist!” Steve’s voice bellowed behind you, a white cowboy hat was suddenly placed aggressively on your head. “not now, Austin” you mumble. “he rescheduled our match again” Bret told him, “jeez, what’s going on with him today?” Steve asks.

you leave the dressing room and head towards the office, heels clicking against the floor. the place was quite, it was still relatively early, only staff in sight. you knock the office’s door before entering. Vince, Pat and a producer were in the room, papers were scattered everywhere, and the atmosphere was tense.

“am I interrupting something?” you close the door behind you, the staff member excuses himself before walking past you and exiting the room. “no, not really” Pat said.

“I heard you changed tonight’s episode” you began, “ah, right. I forgot to tell you” Vince said as he shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. he picked up a paper and held it out in your direction.

you grab the paper examining it, “keep it with you” Pat began, “we still don’t know if we should let you improvise just yet” he adds. you sigh once more, “the decision is still not set though” Vince says. what the hell?

do they want you to improvise or not?

“I guess..”

you didn’t want to start anything with Vince today, the man seems to be going through it. you began walking back towards the door, “y/n” Vince stopped you, “please do your best tonight”, you raise an eyebrow before quickly nodding. “of course” you smile. “nice hat by the way”.

you wanted to grab some coffee to rehearse your lines with since you were feeling a bit tired. you immediately notice Chyna and Lita sitting at a table having breakfast. “where have you two been?” you ask as you sit at their table.

“we just arrived” Lita explained, “and I heard Vince is not having a good day” she adds as she pokes around her pancakes. “oh trust me, he not” you chuckle as you begin reading your lines.

it was generic promo, nothing too crazy, apart from making fun of Taker every now and then. “love the outfit by the way, especially the hat” Chyna said as she drank some orange juice, “you should’ve seen the war that happened for me to wear it�� you respond.

“war?” Lita laughs, you nod.

you three just continue chatting and talking about your day, which was a bit hectic so far. “y’all wanna go out later?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything later”. Lita hums with a mouthful, nodding her head. “yeah, this day’s been quite something” Chyna says, “true honestly, Vince is going off of rage autopilot” Lita adds.

the man is clearly trying to get rid of the kiddy, family friendly taste the WWF has to counter the nWo’s renegade antics. every once in a while you could hear him yelling about something being ‘not controversial enough!’.

poor Vince, someone get him an ice cream.

“so a bar later?” Chyna asks, “yeah” you all agree.

3:21 pm, dressing room.

what was it with you and Shawn always being the dressing room together? it felt like you were destined to meet every time here.

“are you following me?” Shawn asked, you slowly turn to him giving him a mean side eye. “I came here first..?” you say putting down your blush palette. you did a plain look today, basic base and some highlight. you added three red rhinestones to the outer corner of your eyes.

“you’re always here when I’m here” he said, brushing his hair. “coincidences happen” you spray your face with setting spray. “nah, I think you’re following me” he reassures and you roll your eyes.

“why would I follow you?” you ask, “’cause you want me” he smirks as he flexes in front of the mirror, ‘I swear my eyes will fall out of my head’ you think. how many times do you have to go over this conversation?

you groan loudly then breath out, calming down. “for the last time Shawn, I don’t want you” you explain. “eeehhh, they all say that at first” he laughs. “annoying ass bitch” you mumble.

you grab a random hairbrush and before you can touch your hair, Shawn immediately grabs it out of your hand. you groan, “give that back! why do you always take my stuff, man?!” you try to swat it away from him, but fail.

“I wanna brush my hair!” he laughs, “you just did your hair!” you pull on his arms, “Shawn give it back!”

he grabs one of your arms and pulls it behind your back, “Michaels, I swear to god-” you begin, he chuckled. “what are you gonna do, hm?” you wriggle in his hold.

“just give me the fucking brush back” you push against him, “or what?” he asks. you roll your eyes,

“Shawn” you warn, “pretty girl” he taunts.

you manage to break away from him and hit with a half assed upper cut. he quickly lets go of the brush and you grab it away from him. “stop with this highschool jock shit, I will break your fucking nose” you threaten.

“I’d love if you do that” he smirks, you stare at his stupidly punchable face, you raise your finger to say some smart shit but stay quite.

“you’re really fucking annoying” you mutter, he steps closer to you and pushes some hair behind your ear, “and you’re really fucking pretty” he says.

pushing him away, you roll your eyes again.

10:28 pm, RAW <Live>

you were in the main event tonight, the last half hour is all yours. the segment tonight was to determine you and Taker’s groups. simple.

you were rightfully very excited, this was your first feud and you were going up against the big leagues, this was going to be fun. everyone was crammed in gorilla, you look back at the men and women and you slightly cringe. get nice and cozy in there guys and pray that each one of you showered, because they’re about to be here for a long time.

you felt giddy, the type of happiness that had you giggling to yourself. Taker clearly noticed, your energy was quite infectious and he couldn’t help but crack a smile himself. “well, someone’s happy” he crossed his arms. “dude, this is gonna be cool as fuck” you smile, there’s a sudden tug on your arm and you’re yanked to side.

“y/n listen” it was Vince, he startled the hell out of you. “fuckin’ hell, Vince” you place a hand over your chest. “the promo we gave you earlier? forget about it” he said, and you look at him wide eyed, “what?” you ask. he nods, “I want you to improvise” he explains.

your mind immediately felt like that fuzzy, black and white screen that a t.v displays when he it’s disconnected. you had came up with some lines when were still going to improvise earlier in the day but you threw out most of them, not thinking much of what will happen.

“and you’re telling me this now?!” you ask, “I know, I know, but pass it off for tonight. I’ll pay you back” he apologetically says. you sigh.

and just like a switch had been turned, and of your excitement suddenly fizzled out.

this was your first feud and you were going up against the big leagues, hopefully this is fun.

you stood by the ramp and a staff member counted you down until your music hit, you fixed your hat and threw your championship over your shoulder as the crowd popped for you. you get in between the ropes and into the middle of the ring, holding your championship up high. a ring side staff member handed you microphone and the crowd settled down quietly.

“so everyone knows about my little situation with The Undertaker. we’re both backstage, he thinks i’m being rude, we almost fight, and all that, you know what happened, whatever, right?” you begin, “but me personally, I really wanna fight that guy, like what’s not good enough about this?” you ask pointing to yourself and the crowds cheers.

“exactly!” you smile fixing your hat, “okay, now everyone listen” and the crowd quite down again. “I wanna issue a challenge to The Undertaker, Taker, I know you’re back there and I know you can hear me. I want you to listen, so listen carefully - actually, why don’t you come out here?” you ask and the crowds pops.

you wait, everyone waits - and waits, you begin getting nervous, yeah you’ve been trying your best to keep the crowd invested in what you were saying, but this wasn’t supposed to happen. scripted or not, he was supposed to come out immediately.

everyone is waiting, still waiting and commentary are starting to question whether or not The Undertaker is coming out.

“look man, I get you walk slowly but hurry up now.” you say. you lean against the ropes and begin chatting with the people at the front row, damn where is he?

“he’s scared of you!” the girl you were talking to yells, “yeah! he sold out!” they guy next to her agrees.

they both begin chanting ‘YOU SOLD OUT!” and those around them follow suit. it took away the nervous smile you had one and replaced it with a genuine one.

the lights dimmed down and first dong in Taker’s theme song was heard. however, he didn’t get the cheers he usually got, instead, he was drowned in the “YOU SOLD OUT!” chants.

one couldn’t tell by the Deadman’s face but he was raging on the inside, not only were management backstage siding with you, but now the fans were too.

he steps into the ring and is handed a microphone as well, “whatever it is that you want to say, or challenge me for, do it now. you’re wasting my time” he said, and the boos he was met by were unimaginable.

“oh, i’m the one wasting your time?” you spat, “so I was the one who took one hundred years to get to the ring?” and crowd cheers so for you. “don’t get smart with me now, little girl” he orders and you shrug.

“just stating the obvious” you say, “now, as I was saying. my challenge for you is that we form our individual teams, people to fight each other. obviously because we can’t wrestle since that’s banned or .. something like that, but our teams can go through something like a tournament to see who comes out on top” you were immediately getting into the details of it all, this segment was already dragging.

the crowd listened closely to every word you said, interested in your offer. Taker raises the microphone to his mouth, “go on” he says.

“we’ll pick out our teams, men and women in both so that it’s fair, and we’ll go at it” you explain. “and what does the winner get?” Taker asks.

“the winner will be in Survivor Series as the main event!” Randy exclaims.

everyone’s attention and cheers are now diverted to the announcer’s desk, Randy tips his hat at both of you and you smile. “you heard the Macho man, is that a deal for you?” you ask.

Taker doesn’t answer you. he’s silent for a while and once again, the crowd is annoyed at his slowness. “oh brother” you groan.

you heard it when it began, the “YOU’RE SCARED OF Y/N!” chants. they almost make you break character, but you tilt your hat and pretend to admire your championship to hide the grin on your face.

“is that what you think?!” Taker yells at the crowd, “yes, you have a deal, Y/l/n!” he bellows and you push your hat back with a smile. the crowds pops.

“how about we pick our teams now?” you ask looking the crowd who cheer again. “Randy?”, Randy pulls out what looks like a bowl from under the table and jumps into the ring with you two.

“the bowl has papers that have wrestlers names in them, each of you gets to pick four. Y/n, you get two women and two men. Undertaker, you get two women and two men, both teams will consist of five members, are we clear?” Randy asks and you both nod.

the crowd didn’t even question how Randy knew about your challenge, they didn’t even care that he knew that there will teams and that he prepared. they wanted to know who was in the teams.

you dig in the bowl, mixing the paper around a bit before picking one out and unfolding it.

“Chyna” you smile, and the crowd cheers, they cheer even louder when she comes out to stand with you in the ring.

Taker picks out a paper and quickly unfolds it, “Luna Vachon” he reads and the crowd cheers again.

you pick, “Sensational Sherri”.

Taker picks, “Lita”

you pick, “Owen Hart”

Taker picks, “Shawn Michaels”

you pick, “Bret Hart”

last pick goes to Taker, “Steve Austin”.

the ring was now filled with wrestlers, Chyna, Sherri, Owen and Bret on your side, while Luna, Lita, Shawn and Steve were on Taker’s side.

“all is fair in love and war, including this one if that’s what we’re calling it.” Randy began, “now I’m gonna ask you two to shake hands. to vow on professionalism in the name of wrestling, no tricks, no lying, no cheating, no stealing. can you?”

you and Taker glare at each other, an intense stare down. you stick your hand out, he stares at it then takes it in his.

“call it wrestling war one then” he says.

little did he know that the reason your team was giggling among themselves and why crowd behind you were chanting your name was because you had crossed your fingers behind your back.

it’s on.

still there was one thing left.

the bowl had one last paper in it, you noticed it. Taker noticed, the crowd did to.

“who’s remaining in there?” Taker asks as he points to the bowl. you grab the paper and unfold it, your brows furrowed with confusion.

“Macho Man Randy Savage” you read and the crowd goes wild, while everyone in the ring looks at each other confused.

“now hold on, hold on, hold on. who’s side are you on?” you ask, and Randy laughs as he begins to exit the ring.

“can’t spoil the fun now, can I?” he smiles.

#rainchyna #sour grapes #wwe x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe headcanon #wwe imagine #wwe shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels x reader #wwf x reader #wwf fanfic #wwf headcanons #wwf fanfiction #rainchyna’s sour grapes

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moonianbbyg · 3 years

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Hi! Your blog is wonderful, I have to tell you.

I would like to know if you could talk about these aspects that I have in my birth chart:

taurus sun square uranus/ascendant (aquarius)

cancer jupiter in the 5th house

mars opposite pluto

Thank you in advance if you answer some of these <3

hii thank you so so much!! and of course.

sun square uranus/ascendant: our sun represents ourself and our ego meanwhile uranus represents changes, rebellion,innovation and etc. so this aspect can indicate feeling insecure more than feeling confident, not being comfortable in your own body or starting to love yourself at an older age. you either complain a lot about yourself or put on a confident act. others can crush your ego easily especially if they know what you consider as imperfections about yourself. your sun being in taurus makes this an even harder placement because as much as you want to or try to change there’s this laziness or doubt you have deep down that you won’t succeed

jupiter in 5H: you come off as someone charming and approachable. usually people see you as someone who’s ‘perfect’ but if you have conflict with them later on they’re the type to describe you as someone who’s true colors you’ll see later on. your partners feel nurtured by you especially if you start dating someone with mommy or daddy issues, you have this parental vibe to you and the cause for this could be because you experienced so much trauma growing up or from certain people so you want to help others. this placement makes you a good mom/dad, a good doctor or nurse and a good, committed and loyal partner

mars opp. pluto: you probably succeed to disappoint yourself before anyone. you hate making mistakes because you’re so organized. you want everything to be perfect. you can easily attract jealousy and negativity so be careful who you trust because usually people don’t have good intentions when dealing with you. you might come off as someone naive to others and they feel like they can easily take advantage of you. this placement can also indicate going through many relationships throughout your life and some may leave you feeling like you’ll love them forever meanwhile the others can make you feel like you never want to date again. you might get complimented for your skills in the bedroom (as you get older because you’ll have a lot of experience)

#aspects #q&a #astrology #aquarius #taurus sun

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writing-red · 3 years

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The Onyx Ring | 6

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Chapter six of the Silver Letter series. It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings:

Word Count: 8.2k

A/N: So, I am middle-eastern and I rarely find the opp. in fics for that to fit, and since I talk about family history in this chapter I wanted to make the reader’s ethnicity open ended. Just keep that in mind when the reader’s family history comes up. Also note that I made some changes here and in chp. 5 to incorporate titles because I can ;)

You spent Wednesday and Thursday holed up with Draco in his room healing. The wounds on your back pertinent and angry; the pain there to remind you of your sins against the family no matter what you did or what you took. Not only that but you knew the scars he left would last, layered atop the old. In order to gain some privacy, Draco had told Narcissa that you’d broken your leg and that you were just waiting on the potion to do its job, it usually took two to three days, so the lie served its purpose, and Narcissa left you both alone in order to allow you to heal. The entire time you virtually didn’t leave Draco’s bed, he’d go to your room if you wanted a book or a particular sweater, although admittedly, you were using the situation as an excuse to wear Draco’s. Zilsey would bring you both food and magically tend to your wounds so that Draco wouldn’t have to risk getting in trouble for using magic outside of school.

Throughout Thursday, you laid in Draco’s arms as he read your classic muggle books aloud to you, although you were keen on forcing him to read your favourite, Pride and Prejudice. Less because you wanted to read it, which you certainly did, but more because you wanted him to read it.

“‘Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.’

‘Which do you mean?’ and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: ‘She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.’” Draco paused after reading the section aloud

“Mmm,” you breathed as you looked up at him. “Why have you stopped?”

“Well, doesn’t he know that Elizabeth can hear him? I mean, that’s quite rude,” Draco huffed, and you giggled despite the pain it caused in your ribs.

“Draco, it is just a story,” you smiled, amused by his investment so early into the novel.

“Yes, but Elizabeth is clearly too good for him,” he said, still frustrated with the fictional Mr. Darcy’s actions.

“Merlin, I wonder how she feels,” you teased him, lightly referring to your own situation.

“I wasn’t ever this mean to you,” he huffed.

“Draco, don’t challenge me on this. As you will indeed lose. Now, unless you want such a lecture, I suggest that you continue reading,” you said playfully.

“Is that all I am to you, an audible library?” Draco asked, mocking pain.

“Yes, dear, that is the only reason why I lie here so that I can use you for that deeply, handsome voice of yours.”

“Fine then,” he said as he returned his gaze to the book. “Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him.”

“Draco,” you interrupted, your voice plainly displaying that you were not paying attention.

“Yes?” he asked, looking away from the book again.

“Come here,” you muttered as you propped yourself up on your elbows in an attempt to get closer to his lips.

“Are you trying to distract me from Jane Austen with physical affection?” he asked, sounding as you had truly hurt his feelings.

“Just one?” you asked, “Then I will let my library get back to his very important duties.”

“Fine,” he huffed as he leaned down and caught your lips with his. The kiss was warm and pleasant, and it made you forget about your pain for a moment as you were happy to lose yourself in his soft lips. “Is that what you wanted?” He asked after you both pulled away.

“Precisely,” you said, an entirely satisfied smile gracing your face.

“Good,” he said, smirking, but glad to see you in such good spirits considering you spent most of Wednesday in and out of panic attacks and nightmares. It pained him to see you in such a state, yet it comforted him that he was able to be there for you through it.

You lowered yourself back down and laid your head on Draco’s thigh as he cleared his throat and continued reading. “She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day reading, Draco pausing anytime he had questions or a vote of confidence for Elizabeth, becoming increasingly excited by Lizzie and Mr. Darcy’s interactions. While you continuously had to remind him that you did not intend on spoiling the book for him. You found it interesting how things had shifted between the two of you since just yesterday; you didn’t know that you’d had it within you to trust him the way that you suddenly did. You were sure that you would hate him till you were on your deathbed, and you had been determined to push away any feelings for him. Somehow you now found yourself laying in his lap, essentially trusting him with your life, your secrets, and your traumas, essentially handing your heart to him on a golden platter. And you were nervous to go back to school, that the petty drama, secrets, sneaking around, and lies would return to your relationship, but you refused to dwell on that for the time being.

Friday morning, while you were still asleep, Draco snuck out of bed to find his mother, he was determined to protect you from your parents, and after what they did to you, he didn’t want them back in his house. Aside from the wedding, he didn’t want them around you at all. He was sure that if he told his mum the truth about what happened, she would feel the same way. Draco dressed and made his way downstairs to the kitchen, where he knew his mother would be. Since his dad has been in Azkaban, she had stopped eating in the dining room instead, taking her breakfasts early in the kitchen.

“Mother,” Draco greeted as he entered the kitchen.

“Draco dear, how is Y/n’s leg?” Narcissa asked, setting down her copy of the Daily Prophet when she noted her son’s entrance.

“That’s what I was hoping to speak with you about,” he said as he leaned against the kitchen island. “Leave us, elf,” he assumed the traits he was raised to bear easily around his mum, and Zilsey quickly skittered out of the kitchen.

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

“Well, she didn’t break her leg mum, Wednesday when Sir Y/l/n pulled her away from lunch, she didn’t trip and break her leg, her father beat her nearly to death, he used the splitting curse on her, she had nearly bled out by the time I found her,” Draco explained. “Now, I don’t want either of them over again except for the wedding, and even then, I don’t want them having any contact or control over her.”

“Draco, it is not our place to interfere in the way William and Layah choose to discipline their children,” Narcissa said, hiding the pain she felt for her future daughter-in-law with complete neutrality.

“Excuse me? You’ve got to be joking! You should see her back; it’s been ripped to shreds by that bastard, she’s got a bloody scar reaching from her eye to the bottom of her face, and no potion or spell has been able to get rid of it,” exclaimed Draco in anger.

“Draco,” Narcissa warned, her voice remaining low and quiet.

“Don’t do that. Just because you can’t stand up for me when father reprimands me doesn’t mean you have to let the same thing happen to her.”

“Draco,” Narcissa repeated, her voice tighter this time, rising from her seat. “If her parents have decided that she has done something that demands scolding, then they will handle that as they see fit. It is not our place to interfere. And you shall not be referring to your future father-in-law with such language.”

Draco pushed the tears that were pooling in the back of his eyes away, he refused to show such weakness in front of his mother. “How could you simply turn a blind eye to this?” He questioned. When he was met with dead silence, he nodded, “I see, mother, I will be retiring to my room then,” he said, turning to leave.

“Before you go,” she said, stopping her son in his tracks although Draco did not turn to face his mother. “I expect you to propose to Y/n using the family ring tomorrow night as is expected in our families traditions, I believe you have the ring?”

Draco simply nodded in confirmation before striding out of the kitchen.

Narcissa remained standing with her head held high, only collapsing into her seat when she was sure that Draco was half-way back to his room. She pushed all thoughts of the torture you endured at the hands of your parents, her friends, out of her head.

When Draco made his way back to his room, he found you out of bed and nowhere to be found, which he thought to be a bit worrisome.

“Y/n?” He called.

“I’m in your closet,” you called, and he let out a sigh of relief and collapsed onto his bed.

“It sounds like you’re feeling better,” he commented, although you could hear the distress in his voice.

“I am, it still hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before,” you said as you stepped out of his closet in a perfectly oversized white knit sweater of his and one of your pairs of jeans. “Although it sounds like you have something going on, does it happen to have anything to do with where you disappeared to this morning?”

“I just had a conversation with my mother,” he said as he dropped his head into his hands.

You sat next to him and put a kind hand on his shoulder, “do you want to talk about it, or do you want to go walk around the gardens?”

“Let’s get outside, the sun is out, and it’d be nice to show you around out there,” he said as he met your eyes and matched your smile, trying his best to put his conversation with his mum out of his head.

“Sounds lovely,” you said as you stood up and reached a hand out to him.

Draco took your hand and stood up, but before he really could think about anything, he pulled you into a tight embrace, only knowing that he wanted to hold you as close as he could.

The hug surprised you at first, taking you off guard, but after a moment, you felt yourself melt into his arms, your two bodies fitting perfectly with one another’s as if you were meant to hold one another. He rested his head on your shoulder and continued to hold you, you could feel his desperation, and you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t be the one to let go. Although eventually, he slowly released you, taking a moment to observe you and take in your beauty.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice now somehow lower.

You simply nodded as he took your arm in his and the two of you made your way downstairs and out onto the platform that led out into Malfoy Manor’s extensive and stunning gardens. Despite the beautiful spectacle displayed before you, again, you were affronted by a cold and unnatural thing. The gardens and mazes were filled with the darkest colours nature could serve, and overlooking them were statues of cruel-looking men whom you often found stalking around in the portraits within the manor, and each of their statues was accompanied by snakes and peacocks.

The two of you silently descended into the gardens, and Draco led you into the towering maze.

“I used to run around through here when I was little. I know it like the back of my hand,” he said as he led you down one of the forks in the maze. “I don’t think anyone else in my family knows it so well.”

“It’s intimidating,” you admitted, to which he responded with a nod. “This whole place is.”

“I think they built it like that on purpose,” he admitted, leading you down another twist in the path. “Apparently, the first Lucius of our family acquired the land, and when Queen Elizabeth I rejected his hand in marriage, he retired from court and focused on the building of the manor.”

“My great-grandfather burned any proof that our family ever fraternized with muggles, although I’m sure they were title obsessed back when they could be. However, I do know that our family didn’t come to England until 1889.”

“Our families certainly are interesting,” he said with a certain level of distaste.

Since your first year, Draco had proudly boasted that his family was better than so many others, something you had always despised about him. Therefore, it amused you to see him refer to his family in any way that didn’t display reverence. You would continue with the topic, but you were sure that the trees could hear you.

Draco continued to lead you through the maze until you found yourself in a peaceful little clearing covered in an assortment of small wildflowers, the clearing resembling a small meadow, and with the clouds gone and the sun shining, you found it to be particularly lovely. In the middle lay a blanket, a basket, and a series of foods and teas laid out.

You looked over at Draco once you registered it, “How in the world did you manage this?” You asked in disbelief of what was before you.

“House-elves are pretty crafty, Y/n,” he said, a proud smirk rising to his face, and you shook your head as you laughed.

He led you over to the blanket, where a floor pillow was situated amongst all of the treats. “Draco, this is too much,” you said as he sat down on his own cushion.

“Impossible,” he said, his smirk returning to his face. “Entirely impossible to be ‘too much’ when it comes to you, darling.”

The two of you broke into the expertly prepared food and tea as you continued talking about whatever came to mind, Draco complimenting you at any opportunity he found, about how the sun made your eyes sparkle, how he loved your laugh, and so on; and with every word he spoke to you, you found yourself falling further in love with him. His voice was a perfect melody you wished would never stop playing, his eyes twinkled when you were around, and he just had you absolutely entranced. And what was even better than watching his perfectly crafted hands pour you tea was watching him finally open up to you. For a while now, you had firmly believed that there was something more to him, that he was hiding his real self from you, and now you finally had proof. You planned on talking about it more when you got back to school as you were both afraid that the walls, the trees, and the paintings were listening in on you, but you were excited to see Draco Malfoy turn into the truly good person you knew existed within him. The person that existed out of his parents control.

As you finished eating, Draco placed all of the dishes into the basket before you, exchanging them for your still unfinished copy of Pride and Prejudice. Excited, you laid down with your head in Draco’s lap, basking in the sunlight, which you hadn’t seen since you left school, as he cracked open the book and begun to read. You only had a few chapters left, and you were quite excited for him to reach the end of the novel.

You listened attentively as he read; as always, you were able to refuse yourself the indulgence of listening to him speak, “Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference, and she could do nothing but wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead of his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much,” Draco read, turning the page and moving on to the next chapter. You cracked a smile, knowing that he would just adore what was to come.

“‘If you will thank me,’ he replied, ‘let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.’” you were excited by the joy and intention Draco was carrying in his voice, almost as if he had read ahead and practised, but when he skipped ahead a line, you knew something was up, “‘You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.’” Draco read as he delicately placed a silver ring decorated with curving leaves and set with a small amber gem in the centre on the top of your hand, which was resting lazily on Draco’s calf.

In contrast with the warm sun, the cold metal shocked you as you realised that he was using Jane Austen to propose to you. Draco closed the book while keeping his thumb in between the pages as to not lose your place. He looked down at you with a smile that rivalled even the sun.

“My mother is going to make me propose in front of your parents during Christmas dinner,” he admitted as you rose into a sitting position and twisted to face him, immediately making and maintaining eye contact. “I wish we could wait, that we could have more time but, I have fallen too hard for you to allow anyone to force me to propose to you, you don’t deserve it in the least, and this is a moment that our parents shouldn’t be allowed to control.”

You placed the ring between his thumb and forefinger of his right hand and then guided it onto your ring finger on your left hand. “‘Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances.’” You quoted the passage from memory in response to Draco, and as a way to say yes to his proposal. “Thank you, Draco, and I want you to know that if the situation had been different, I still would have said yes.”

Despite his bright smile, a tear slipped from the platinum-haired boy’s eye, startling you. You really hadn’t ever expected to see Draco Malfoy cry, even a solitary tear.

“Draco, dear, what’s wrong?” you asked as you wiped the tear away with your thumb, leaving your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Y/n, you’re being forced to marry someone who could get you killed,” he said, his voice lowering and becoming melancholy.

You sat up and turned to face him, taking his hands in yours, “It’s the opposite, you’re the one saving me from my parents. I don’t know what you mean,” you said, concerned at his sudden change in demeanour.

“He knows, he knows that I love you, and he’ll kill you if I don’t do what he’s asked me to do,” Draco said, his eyes cast down.

“Who, Draco?”

“Voldemort,” Draco whispered, barely audible. “He’s demanded that I kill Dumbledore by the end of the year in order to make up for my father’s mistakes at the ministry,” he admitted. “And if I don’t do it, he’ll kill you.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed what Draco told you, all of Harry’s theories finally making sense. Even more so, all of Draco’s nerves and mood swings over the year finally coming to light, why he had been so hesitant to admit his feelings for you, his possessive nature finally making sense.

“Y/n, you’re so good, such a good person,” he said as another tear slid down his cheek. “You are so much braver than I am. You were able to denounce all of this while I let them turn me into one of them.” You felt the pain in his voice resonate in your chest. “While I terrorised you and your friends, and even now as I plan to murder our headmaster, you continue to find a way to show me more kindness and love than I have ever experienced.”

“Draco, I love you, and you’re wrong. You aren’t them,” you whispered as you gestured to the manor. “If you were, you would have left me to bleed under my father’s boot. You wouldn’t have tried to protect me from him,” you said as you placed your hand on his shoulder. “I know that what you’re doing comes not from a place of evil but from necessity and that all will be right in the end because we will find a way to come out on the right side of the war. I promise that as long as we have one another, things will be okay.” You promised with all sincerity. “Now, the sun is setting, and it’s about to get frigid out here. I say we head back up to your room, and I finish reading Pride and Prejudice to you.”

“I thought that was my job,” he said, the smile slowly returning to his face.

“Well, I think that it is fair of me to want to cheer up my fiancé,” you said, matching his smile.

“Admittedly, I’ve wanted to hear your Mr. Darcy interpretation,” he teased.

“I don’t think it’ll be half as good as yours,” you admitted, glancing down at the ring on your finger, which wasn’t a symbol of the life you were losing but the love you were gaining. “Thank you for this, Draco.”

“Anything for you, my darling,” he said as he reached a hand out to you, which he used to pull you up to your feet and into a kiss in which you melted into Draco. His lips were still warm from the sun and so soft on yours. When he pulled away, you sighed from the loss of touch, yet also in satisfaction.

You collected the remnants of the picnic, along with the book, which suddenly held so much more value in your eyes, and you followed Draco out of the maze and back to the Manor. You were so engrossed in your thoughts and in Draco that you completely forgot about the other residents of the mansion. Although, you were swiftly reminded as when you entered through the large, French style, doors you were affronted by a stoic-faced Narcissa occupying the centre of the room, clearly anticipating your return.

“Good evening, Narcissa,” you greeted warmly.

“Good evening,” she returned coldly. “Glad to see that your leg is better,” she said despite the terrible red scar that now obviously occupied your cheek. “Since tomorrow is Christmas, and essentially our final day together, I have the day planned to the minute. Throughout the morning, we shall be finalizing wedding plans, which require both of your thoughts. Then Draco, you will have time to complete your errand before you return to get ready for Christmas dinner with the Y/l/n’s. Sunday, the two of you will pack and prepare for your return to Hogwarts. We start our day at precisely eight.”

“We will see you at the dining table at eight then,” Draco matched her tone, clearly unfazed by his mother’s sudden coldness, which had uniquely caught you by surprise. This was a side of the woman you hadn’t seen yet.

“Good night, Narcissa,” you said, trying to push aside your shock as Draco pulled you out of the entryway and upstairs to his room.

When you made it inside, Draco closed the door behind you and looked you dead in the eyes, “tomorrow, you don’t get a second of alone time with them. No matter what, I’m by your side.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” you smiled grimly, and he sighed in relief. “Now, lay down, dear. We have a book to finish.”

The two of you cuddled up into one another’s side as you finished reading the book aloud. To your satisfaction, just as you finished the book, Draco started prompting you to softly run your hands through his perfect platinum blonde hair, which in the days without styling or care had begun to curl into soft waves. At some point, you fell asleep with the light still on and your precious copy of Pride and Prejudice open on your lap. Yet, you slept that night without a nightmare or a negative thought, your mind and body entirely at peace wrapped up in Draco’s arms.

You awoke to bright morning light flooding into the room, which startled you as you still felt Draco by your side. You slowly drew yourself up and looked over to see Alexis, your wedding planner standing by your bed, assuming it had been her who had opened the curtains.

“Alexis?” You asked groggily, confused by her presence in your fiancé’s room. “Why aren’t you home? It’s Christmas.”

“Lady Malfoy asked me here,” she said. “She also asked me to retrieve you, miss, as well as Master Malfoy.”

You nodded, “we’ll get dressed and be down shortly.”

She responded with a bow of her head, then she swept out of the room, closing the door fast behind her.

“What in the world was that about?” Draco groaned, eyes still closed.

“Your mother sent the bloody wedding planner up here to wake us,” you said, in complete disbelief of Narcissa’s decision to do so.

“Mm-alright,” he said as he sat up, kissing you on the cheek before sliding out of bed.

“I’m going to slip into my room and grab a dress,” you said as you stretched out your arms before standing.

“Alright, darling,” Draco said as he disappeared into his closet to get dressed himself.

The two of you got ready relatively quickly, donning appropriately formal clothing and descended downstairs and into the dining room together, where Narcissa and Alexis were already talking, papers, linen samples, and photographs spread out amongst tea, fruits, and other miscellaneous breakfast items.

“Good morning,” you greeted as a polite way to announce your arrival.

“Oh, good, we’ve been waiting for you two,” Narcissa said, looking up as you entered the dining room. “Sit, we have a lot to get through.” While she wasn’t as cold as she was last night, she wasn’t the same kind motherly woman who had offered you her dress for your wedding.

You and Draco assumed seats next to each other as Narcissa occupied the head of the table and Alexis sat across from you. Immediately, you were bombarded with questions, confirmations that Draco liked the choices you had made last week, ornate changes Narcissa recommended, and series more decisions you had never considered went into wedding planning. Occasionally, you would lean over to Draco and whisper some joke or terrible comment into his ear, and he would have to stifle his laughter which inherently bothered both Alexis and Narcissa as they were suddenly convinced that neither of you was taking this seriously. As afternoon approached Narcissa dismissed Draco, much to your dismay you were left alone with the two women who buckled down on you the second he was gone.

Eventually, Narcissa dismissed you and Alexis, allowing you to go and change and for Alexis to finally make her way home. Although, you were convinced that she didn’t care about that, instead sticking to her oh-so-important schedule. You made your way up to your room, Draco nowhere to be seen, you slipped into your room where you found the black gown your mother had packed for this exact occasion; it even had a note on it that read, ‘wear for Christmas dinner.’ Not in any particular mood to disobey, you donned the dress. While it did not come with a corset, it was quite tight and held your core in as if it were one. After dressing, you sat in front of the vanity to don the face that would get you through the night. Despite the time you took on your hair and makeup, hoping you would waste enough time so Draco would be ready and you wouldn’t have to face whatever was downstairs alone. However, when you made your way down, you found both the entrance hall and the few sitting rooms to be empty, leaving you to admire the decorations that had gone up in the last hour you had been spending getting ready. Classical music was drifting through the first floor, and the decorations which were already there had been accompanied by more lavish ornaments circled throughout the space, which was almost entirely lit by warm candle-light. Had the manor not been another prison for you, you may have some capacity for admiration of its beauty.

“Oh, well, hello there,” you heard the sharp and twisted voice you hadn’t heard since the battle in the Department of Mysteries.

In response, you shot around to see Draco standing next to his Aunt Bellatrix Lestrange as they were standing in the entryway before you. “Lady Lestrange,” you said, bowing your head respectfully.

“Draco, this is the girl?” she asked her nephew as she crept towards you.

“Yes, Aunt Bellatrix, this is her, Y/n Y/l/n,” he spoke formally.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am. I’ve been told that you’re a great witch,” you said, your head still bowed. To say that Lestrange intimidated you was a grand understatement.

“Enough flattery, girl, it will get you nowhere,” she said as she circled you, inspecting you.

“Bella,” Narcissa greeted warmly as she descended the stairs into the hall.

“Cissy,” Bellatrix responded, turning away from you to greet her sister.

You used the opportunity to make your way to Draco’s side, Bellatrix’s appearance at the dinner, both shocking and nerve-racking. Having to deal with your parents was one thing; Bellatrix Lestrange was a whole other beast.

“Watch your mind,” Draco muttered in your ear as he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “She’s a powerful Occlmens.”

You nodded in response, watching as the sisters greeted each other. “How were your errands?” You asked.

“Fine, we can talk about them later.”

“What are we waiting for?” Bellatrix asked her sister, clearly unaware of the plans for the evening.

“The Y/l/n’s, Y/n’s parents are set to arrive in a matter of moments,” Narcissa said. “Then it will just be the six of us, an intimate affair.”

Perfect timing as always, your parents popped into the room through the grand fireplace, green smoke billowing around their feet.

“Hello, Narcissa, Bellatrix,” your father greeted the two witches. “Happy Christmas.”

“Yes, Happy Christmas, William,” Narcissa greeted, her warmth and kindness suddenly flooding back.

“Bellatrix, oh, I haven’t seen you since the summer. How have you been?” Your mother greeted.

“I have been quite well, Layah,” Bellatrix said, a note of sadism to her voice. “Lovely to see you both.”

“Let us make our way to the sitting room. I know we have quite a bit to discuss,” Narcissa said as she eyed Draco, likely referring to the proposal he was meant to make.

Everyone followed Narcissa into the sitting room, sifting out to where they were meant to sit. You and Draco on a loveseat near the Christmas tree, Bellatrix and Narcissa sitting on armchairs adjacent to one another, and your mother and father on a couch together. As you all situated yourselves flutes of champagne appeared at everyone’s side.

“Now, Narcissa I know you said that we weren’t focusing on gifts,” your father spoke up. “But I was thinking, and since Draco is to be my son-in-law, I thought it would be appropriate for me to give him this.” William rose and crossed over to where the two of you were sitting to hand Draco a long, elegantly wrapped, box.

“Thank you, sir,” Draco said, accepting the box.

“Go ahead and open it,” your father said jovially as he returned to his seat.

Draco split the wrapping along the seam, leaving a black jewellery box, opening it he revealed a silver wizard’s watch, the one your father had given to William for his seventeenth birthday. You swallowed your shock, refusing to show the pain that echoed in your heart on your face. Yet, you weren’t surprised at your father using Draco as a replacement for what he killed.

“Thank you, sir. It’ll be an honour to wear this.”

William beamed, twisting his face into a nasty smile, “I’m glad you think so, boy.”

“How kind of you, William,” Narcissa piped.

“Actually,” you chimed in. “While Draco and I were out last week, I picked this up for you. It’s small, but I thought it’d be nice for you to have them for the wedding.” You made your way across the room to hand Narcissa the impeccably wrapped, tiffany blue box. “And Draco got something for you as well, mother,” you said, then walking to her to hand her the black velvet jewellery box.

“Darling, you didn’t have to do this,” Narcissa smiled kindly as she opened the box.

You returned to your spot next to Draco, taking his hand in yours.

Narcissa pulled out the drop pearl earrings, the smile remaining on her face. “Y/n, this is so sweet, thank you.”

“I’m so glad you like them,” you said, returning her smile.

Layah opened her gift, revealing a fine diamond and emerald decorated bracelet that fit into her jewellery collection well. “Draco, this was quite thoughtful of you,” she said, her lack of gratitude bothering you.

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he said, nodding his head.

“Well, this is quite boring, isn’t it?” Bellatrix chimed in. “It’s a bit of a drag.”

“Is that because no one got you a gift, ma’am?” you asked sarcastically, quickly taking on the ‘ma’am’ as you noticed the gravity of you using such humour in that room.

Silence fell upon everyone in the room, and you could feel your parents sharp glare fall upon you instructing you that you had made a-

A shrill laugh erupted from Bellatrix’s throat, interrupting the concern that fell upon your shoulders, “Oh, maybe I underestimated you, seems you’re not so boring after all,” she said, then continued to giggle, causing Narcissa and your parents to join in with uncomfortable chuckles and false smiles.

“I’m glad you think so,” Draco said, standing up from his spot next to you. “If no one minds I would like to steal this moment to do something quite important.” Once he received looks or nods of recognition Draco turned to face you, bending down onto one knee, he looked up at you and knowing that only you could see his face he shared a bright, kind smile you had only seen when the two of you had been alone. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, throughout our years of knowing each other, growing up with one another, attending school together I only ever imagined a life with you. When my mother informed me of our arrangement I was overcome with delight at the prospect of joining hands with another great Wizarding family,” You were not surprised by the loveless and prideful nature of the proposal, this was not for you, it was for your father and for his mother. Draco pulled out a ring, something dark, ornate, and clearly ancient. “Now, it is with great admiration for you and your family that I ask you to be my wife,” he said, looking up at you expectedly.

“It would be my honour to uphold the noble name of Malfoy, and therefore the name of Y/l/n, through becoming your wife,” you said, the acceptance taught to you, forced down your throat, word for word by your mother. While you accepted, Draco slipped the engagement ring onto your bare ring finger, the one he had given you yesterday residing on the opposite hand for the time being. As he did so light, polite applause filled the room.

“The two of you do make a handsome couple,” Narcissa smiled, and you couldn’t tell whether or not the curving of her lips was genuine.

“Absolutely,” your mother hissed. “Draco, we are pleased to be inviting you into the family.”

Accolades for Draco, for you, and for the two of you as a couple continued on until dinner was announced. Dinner itself droned on for hours, and drinks afterwards droned on for hours, you felt as if you were a puddle by the time the evening was over. As usual, you spent most of the night silently observing those around you, although Bellatrix would occasionally drag you into conversation in an attempt to read you. The dinner was like the lunch before and the dinner before that, and every, single, individual, societal event you had attended in your life. You yearned to return to Draco’s room fall into his arms and shed the night, the terrible forced proposal, and the stank of society from your shoulders. Eventually and thankfully you did, both of you quick to wish ‘Happy Christmas’ and ‘Goodnight’ to your parents as well as his mother and aunt. Then, of course, swiftly retreating to Draco’s bedroom. Both of you exhausted trading the confining clothing you wore throughout the evening for sweaters and pyjama pants, then collapsing onto the mattress and into one another’s arms.

The next morning you awoke first to find Draco’s arm draped over your torso, and his face nuzzled into your neck. You smiled, happy to see him so peaceful, and terribly sad that you would have to disturb that peace. You slowly started running your hands through his wavy platinum blonde hair, taking in how handsome he looked as he slept.

“Merlin, it’s Sunday, isn’t it?” Draco asked.

“Yes, darling, it is.”

Draco emitted a pained groan and curled his arms around you to pull you tightly into him, “that means I won’t get to hold you like this ‘till June.”

You giggled at his pain, “I’m sure we will find a way, Draco.”

“You know, this is the worst thing about you being a Gryffindor,” he said with distaste. “If you were a Slytherin we wouldn’t have this issue.”

A pleasant smile rested on your face, “Draco, we wouldn’t have this issue if you were a Gryffindor,” you countered.

“As if, Y/n,” he scoffed, you laughed again, and Draco was sure that your laugh could rival the brightness of the sun. He drew away from only for a second so that he could kiss you and experience that brightness for himself. The kiss lasted for a blissful moment before he pulled away to take you in for just a moment.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n,” he said, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

You smiled up at him, “you’re too nice, Draco.”

“I am the complete opposite,” he countered and your smile widened.

“Come now, we have to get you packed,” you said, gesturing to his closet.

“Y/n, that sounds miserable,” he lamented.

“Darling, as badly as I want to lay in bed with you all day, I also wish to return to school.”

“Fine,” he said, dramatic as ever. “But only because I love you.”

“Thank you,” you said as you planted a swift kiss on his cheek before rolling out of the bed.

It didn’t take you long to get your things together since you didn’t bring much and because most of your things were staying at the Manor considering you were essentially moving in. When you finished, you helped Draco pack his things up, and you were sure to include some of his sweaters which you had come to love so much. After you were both done, you made your way downstairs where Narcissa was waiting.

You stood in front of the fireplace, excited to finally be leaving the terribly dark home. “Narcissa thank you again for having me. I am truly excited to return for summer,” you lied through your teeth, doing your best to make the statement as believable as possible. At the end of the term, you would go to your home for a day in order to pack up whatever you wanted to bring along with you to your new life. From then on you would reside at Malfoy Manor, at the very least until the end of the war, then it would be expected for you and Draco to live alone until Lucius handed the Manor over to his son. Unless of course, the war turned against Voldemort’s favour.

“Y/n, it was lovely getting to know you. I am incredibly excited for the wedding,” she responded and you smiled.

“So am I ma’am, and thank you for including me in so much of the planning.”

Narcissa nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

“Well, you two have a good semester, and Draco, please write,” she said as she brushed her son’s shoulder as many mother’s do.

“Of course, mother,” he said before turning to you. “Y/n, would you like to go first?”

You nodded, “thank you again, Narcissa.” And with that, you stepped into the fireplace with floo powder in hand, “Hogwarts!” You shouted clearly, disappearing in a green cloud with Draco not far behind.

To your surprise, you found yourself in Professor McGonagall’s office. You quickly became aware of your surroundings, and dusted the powder off of your jeans before stepping out of her fireplace and onto her carpet. “Hello Professor, I hope you had a happy holiday.”

“Thank you, Miss. Y/l/n, it was nice, quiet without Mr. Potter around to stir the pot,” she said as she looked up, a warm smile on her face.

“Well he is known for that, isn’t he,” you conceded, knowing you were often a part of the trouble.

“Dear, Y/n, your face, what happened?” McGonagall’s face twisting into concern as she noticed the still fresh raised red scar reaching across your face.

“Oh,” you raised a hand to touch the scar, having forgotten to come up with an excuse for the visibly wound. “Just a freak cooking accident, it seems I-I manage just as much trouble when I’m home as when I’m here,” you said, adding a fake laugh to try and convince her that all was fine, although you were sure she could read right through you.

“Y/n, if you need anything,” she said, her eyes falling on the engagement ring on your finger. “Please feel free to speak to me.”

“Thank you, Professor, I’m going to go unpack now,” you said, wanting desperately to get out of the awkward situation.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll see you in class Tuesday.”

You nodded, and swiftly left her office, making your way to the Gryffindor common room in the hopes of finding Harry, Ron, and Hermione, knowing you had a lot to explain. When you got to the common room, you were disappointed to discover that you were the first to arrive. You sufficed yourself to grabbing some food in the Great Hall, figuring if anyone was looking for you that would be an easy place to find you. However, your journey downstairs was swiftly interrupted.

“Y/N!” You heard Harry’s voice, and you turned around, excited to see your friend.

“Bloody hell, Y/n, what happened to your face?” Ron asked as you turned to face them.

“Seriously, Ronald?” Ginny scolded her brother.

“No, it’s fine, it was just my father,” you explained. The three of them knew plenty about your parent’s abuse.

“Merlin, he’s never-” Harry started, but you cut him off.

“I know, I’d really rather not get into it, it’s not like it’s a happy memory.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, scratching the back of his head, unsure of what to say.

“Holy shit! Y/n is that an engagement ring?!” Ginny exclaimed, rushing over to you and grabbing your left hand to examine your ring finger.

“Why don’t we go to the common room and we’ll talk about the holiday there,” you said firmly, uncomfortable having this conversation in the middle of a hallway.

“That's probably a good idea,” Harry said, and the four of you made your way back towards the common room, and for extra precaution, you went up to the boy’s dorm which was empty, and thankfully didn’t smell as it often did since the boys hadn’t had the opportunity to stink it up just yet.

“So, how was Malfoy Manor?” Ginny asked teasingly as you all found places to sit around the room, you and Ginny taking Harry’s bed; mutually refusing to trust Ron’s.

“Well to make a long story short, the scar was caused by my father finding our letters, and according to tradition, Draco had to propose to me with our families present, and with his family ring. So, they had him propose last night,” you explained. “Malfoy Manor is a terrifying place, but I have been before,” you thought, and you knew you couldn’t just say that Draco was assigned by Voldemort to murder Dumbledore which is why he had been acting so weird, but you weren’t sure otherwise how to explain to your friends why Draco acts the way he does, and that he really is a good guy.

“What did Malfoy tell your dad about the letters?” Ron scoffed.

“No, of course, he didn’t,” you bit. “My father just spies on me. Draco is actually the reason my father didn’t end up killing me, and he really isn’t such a bad guy.”

“I’m sorry, but there is no way we are talking about the same guy who terrorised us at dinner and announced to the entire school that you were snogging Harry just a few weeks ago,” Ginny countered, and Harry’s face turned beet red.

“We’re talking about Malfoy, I presume?” Hermione asked as she entered the room.

“Hermione!” you greeted her warmly, excited to see her.

“Hello everyone,” she said as she assumed a seat near you. “So, what did I miss?”

Ginny quickly summarised the conversation thus-far, "And I don’t trust Malfoy in the least,” she said, shooting you an irritated look.

“Well I do, and considering it is my life I have no control over, I think that I get to at least decide whether or not I trust him. Anyways he’s proved himself over the holiday, and that’s all that matters, eh?”

“I still think you’re marrying a Death-Eater,” Harry said, confident in his accusation, which you of course knew was correct.

“And what if I am?” you asked. “Harry I am also the child of Death-Eater’s. Not only that, but my parents made it very clear that if I don’t marry him, I’m dead. And wouldn't you rather, when this war happens you have someone on the inside with your interest at heart? Harry I would rather die fighting for a cause than fighting myself.”

Everyone paused for a moment, it was oftentimes easy to forget the gravity of the situation you were all in, but your words made your friends conscious of everything for a moment.

“You all know where I stand,” you said, your eyes were watering, but your voice was firm. “And I intend on fighting with you; I just won’t be able to do so by your side. I assume you already knew that.”

“We just always hoped it would somehow turn out differently, Y/n,” Hermione said honestly. “But of course we understand.”

“Then you’ll also understand that this is likely my last term at Hogwarts,” you said, your voice lower this time.

“Yes,” Harry said quietly.

“So you’ll understand why I want this conversation to end and why I just want to spend time with my friends?” You asked as a tear dripped down your cheek.

Ginny wrapped you in a hug, Hermione quickly joining in, and you wiped the tear from your face. “We love you,” Ginny muttered, and you squeezed her tightly in response.

“What are you two doing over there?” Hermione chided Ron and Harry, ignoring her own tears. “Get over here and join the bloody hug!”

The boys both shook their heads, trying their best to push back their own emotions and joining the three of you in the hug which was quickly turning into a dog pile.

“Anyways, Draco is on our side,” you breathed.

Part 7 - Coming Soon

Tags!

Everything - @sarcasticallywitty15 @fred-love-bot

Silver Letter - @hidejeon @Ravenclawgurl137 @unexpectedly-slytherin @missmercurymoon @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker@pillowjj@pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @oi-itsemily@lukehemmingslut831 @peachybeannn @lovebynorth@bubblesam06@voidnarnia @bethii1 @arthemis-o-negative@roseyrams@treestarrrrrrrr @streetfighterrichie @dreams-in-blxck @psychramt @dracofeltonmalfoy @weasleydream @rottenhexrt@daringvixon @thatguppienamedbae @lord-byron

#draco malfoy fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #the silver letter #red writes #arranged marriage fic #arranged marriage au

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esculentevil · 2 years

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Lazytown AU: Spirit of a Home (R.Í.G.S. + ÍþróttaáGreen)

((Ok, so, I've had this bizarre scenario [AU] for Lazytown rattling around in my head for a year and I’ve decided I’d like to share with you All even tho I’m not really in this fandom anymore... Opps? Anyway: it involves a couple of my LT headcanons, mostly the R.Í.G.S. ship, so, please read that first. Otherwise... Welcome to Spirit of a Home, my R.Í.G.S. + ÍþróttaáGreen AU.)) ((Also readable on AO3!))

This is an AU where Lazytown is taken over by a forest spirit named Evergreen.

It's an old spirit from when Lazytown was still just a forest—before the fae called Robbie settled in it and the humans that built Lazytown, itself, deforested the area so they could remake it. Evergreen is angry upon waking to find Itself half ruined and changed: so It lashes out and runs everyone out of town. Desperate to get everyone their home back but able to do it himself, Sportacus calls his old mentor, Ithro, for help and he arrives shortly after as #9; but he's also alerted the council of Elves so at least #3, Ithrotta, is coming too. They discuss what can be done when Ithro shows up, but Robbie's put in his own call—to Glanni, his long-distance significant other. Glanni, being older, knows more about spirits than Robbie does and offers advice on how to handle an irate one such as Evergreen: mainly "Make no mistake: the forest spirit isn't wrong and has every right to be pissed about this forced face lift; I wouldn't want anyone doing MY make-up, after all!" Sportacus and Ithro argue over what to do: Ithro saying there's a way to move the spirit elsewhere and Sportie, sweetie that he is, insisting on allowing It to stay as It was there long before any of them and thus "has more right to call it HOME than any of us!" The children, of course, all stuck in Sportie's airship with them, agree with their hero and Ithro is forced to cave. "We need to come up with a compromise," Robbie finally cuts in, parroting what Glanni told him; "which should really just entail creating a space for It to become a part of Lazytown." "We can plant trees!" Stephanie suggests, the other children excitedly agreeing; "A little forest—maybe even of evergreens!!!" There's lots of discussion about this, Stingy saying his dad could easily pay for HIS new forest, Pixel going into detail about how to take care of evergreens based on whatever info he can look up, Ziggy asking if they can plant lollipop trees as well, etc. Ithrotta eventually arrives to an out of control forest spirit but an equally controlled idea of what to do about it; he points out that none of them have talked to EVERGREEN about it and thus not bothered to make sure that's what Evergreen would even be interested in. A bit defeated, the group—even Robbie—deflate; but Ithrotta just laughs and offers to be the delegate: "It's literally all I do as #3 now anyway!" So, Ithrotta goes to speak with the enraged forest spirit as the residents of Lazytown and Ithro watch from the sidelines.

It goes... well it goes.

Spirits have the ability to create pockets of space that they control solely. Evergreen puts Ithrotta in one of these space pockets. All of Evergreen's hate and anger and horror and shame is leveled at Ithrotta and he takes it all, sympathizing and empathizing wherever he can. He tells the spirit he wishes for nothing but It to be happy, and points out that holding onto all these hurts when the hurters have long since passed will only keep it unhappy; "So, please: make a new home for yourself; let the townsfolk do this for you, as an apology or repentance—whichever you prefer—and COME HOME."

"... Will you be there?"

"... I've been considering retiring to a nice forest, yes."

This is how it's decided there must be a river of fish in the Evergreen Forest.

And why Glanni has to calm his enraged elf who was just about to jump into the space pocket after HIS old mentor xD

((I’m also posting this now because (1) I wanna clean up my drafts [I have like almost 200 now] and (2) while rereading this plotline, Ithrotta’s words to Evergreen [whom, YES, is basically me; first self-insert I ever did; idk what this says about me lmao] really hit home for me because depression’s been kicking my butt for a long time now and it seems like, no matter where I look, there’s no one really around me willing to help or show me support; it’s been hurting a lot lately to look around and see everyone supporting each other but never lending their hand to me; but, reading this, Ithrotta’s reminded me that holding onto that is only gonna hurt me more and more; so I’m posting this for my drafts to lessen but also to remind myself that sometimes I’m all I need; and hopefully I(throtta) can remind someone ELSE of that, too. All my love. Stay strong! ♦️♦️♦️))

#glanni glaepur #robbie rotten #sportacus #íþróttaálfurinn #lazytown #fanfiction #mywriting #original character #evergreen #selfish #depression #hurt/comfort

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

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And They were Coffin-Mates

Title: And They were Coffin-Mates

Summary: “I’m a vampire.”

Out of all the things to come out of his best friend’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that. Was Virgil sure he wasn’t dreaming? Maybe this was some set-up to one of Patton’s corny puns. Something like “I’m a vampire. I like my coffee de-coffin-ated.”

Virgil pretended to hate them. He groaned or grimaced at how awful they were. But really, it was all to cover up the smile they produced.

“A vampire? Pffft,” He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to try for a better joke than that, Pat.”

Word-Count: 3.5k

Pairings: platonic moxiety (they’re best friends)

Warnings: Vampires, blood mention, memory loss, involuntary turning, hurt/comfort, puns, so many puns, crying, non-graphic violence, headache, sensory overload, panic

This is based off a prompt ask I got sent a long, long awhile ago and just finally finished!

Virgil trudged up to his apartment, sweat rolling down his back. Really, it was his fault for wearing a black plaid hoodie and ripped black jeans. Wearing black in the sweltering heat of the summer sun’s gaze was like inviting death upon you. But he looked good in black and was willing to suffer. Besides, Virgil was quite sure his soul was dead already.

Eventually he made it to his apartment, blessed air conditioning hitting his face at last.

“How was your day, kiddo?” His roommate and best friend Patton asked. He was in the kitchen, mixing something in a bowl.

Virgil groaned loudly, collapsing into the couch cushions.

Patton whistled, “That bad, huh?”

“I’m going to fight the sun. Either that or move to Seattle, whatever’s easiest.”

He groaned again, shoving his head into a couch pillow. His head hurt and he was so damn thirsty. Thirsty for water, please get your mind out of the gutter. He was terrible at remembering to drink enough water, something his coworker Logan constantly berated him about. Did he work with Lo today? God, he couldn’t remember. The entire day felt like a blur.

“Aw, I’m sorry you had a rough day. Maybe I can brighten it up with some pat-cakes?”

“Pat-cakes?”

“Like it’s like pancakes, except with my name--pat-cakes!”

Virgil groaned, this time attempting to keep himself from laughing.

“Stop trying to cheer me up, it’s illegal.”

“Oh? I guess I’m a warmhearted crook then!”

“Warmhearted?”

“Yeah, because instead of a coldhearted crook, I got a lotta love and I’m not afraid to give it.”

Virgil snorted, gazing up from his pillow. Patton stood there, grinning in his grey cat-onesie. The sight was enough to warm his cold, barely beating heart, dammit.

“Well consider yourself under arrest.”

“What for?”

“Stealing my heart.”

“Oh my goodness, you made a pun!” Patton’s blinding white grin was worth it for allowing such a cliche, cheesy pun escape his lips.

“Yeah, well, don’t count on it being a regular thing,” Virgil said, turning away in a poor attempt to hide his burning, surely reddening cheeks, “that was my allotted pun for the year.”

“Auugust I’ll have to try to get another pun out of you before the year’s over.”

“August?”

“Y’know Auuu-guust, like ‘I guess?’”

“Pat, I love you but that one was terrible.”

“Oh, tearable! Like paper?! Or tearable like tears?”

“Patton, no, that wasn’t a pun.”

The banter continued as Patton finally started to pour pancake batter onto the grill. In typical Patton fashion, he created animal shapes and stick figures out of the pancakes, rather than keeping with normal, round ones.

It helped distract Virgil from both his headache and his rather unmemorable day. Everyone deserved a Patton in their life. Someone who brightened your day with their mere presence. Virgil set the table for their pancakes-for-dinner feast as he pondered this.

He then found their largest water container (a blender) and filled it up to the brim with water. Was he going to regret this sometime in the middle of the night? Yes. Did he care? Not really, no.

He didn’t even know why his throat felt so parched. The last couple weeks of work had been ridiculously slow. It wasn’t like he had to deal conversing with a horde of customers, thank God. He took a gulp, then another and another.

“Wow, I sea you were thirsty!”

He lifted the blender away from his mouth to respond, before pausing. He blinked, staring at the now-empty blender. Huh.

“Um yeah. Really thirsty.” He chuckled, setting the blender beside the sink.

“Good thing you quenched it then.” Patton said, looking at Virgil weirdly.

He didn’t blame him. Virgil would too look at someone weird if they chugged a 40 ounce blender like it was nothing. He licked his lips, his mouth still feeling as dry as ever.

A part of him wanted to grab the blender, refill and down it, desperate to douse the itching, stinging feeling that clenched his throat. But he refrained, sitting down at the kitchen table instead. It was probably possible to die from drinking too much water, right?

“Here you go!” Patton said, shaking him of his thoughts. He placed a plate of pancakes in front of Virgil. There were several blobby pancakes with two triangles pointing out at the top, what Virgil presumed to be either a cat or dog.

“Thanks Pat,” He said, “So, uh, how was your day?”

“Oh, it was Pet-tastic!” Patton perked up, “I got to pet a dog today!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I was on the subway when a person came in with the cutest--”

Virgil tried to focus on the words coming out of Patton’s mouth. He really did even as his head throbbed, headache worsening. Patton’s voice, the humming of the refrigerator, the dishwater noises, everything was suddenly too loud. He fidgeted, the fluorescent light beating down on him. He took a bite, hoping it would help. He hadn’t eaten since morning, of course he felt like shit. He just needed substance. Once he ate something, things would be okay.

Except he spat it out, coughing. Something was wrong. It couldn’t be Patton’s pancakes. He always made them to a fluffy, sweet perfection. Yet Virgil’s stomach threatened to heave up its contents at the mere taste.

“Virgil?”

He jerked his head towards Patton, wincing from the whiplash.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m never okay.” is the retort Virgil wanted to throw back. Deflecting and self-deprecation was Virgil’s main attributes. Patton would’ve gasped at him, telling him he’d physically fight him for talking bad about himself. Except those words didn’t make it out of Virgil’s throat.

“I’m--I’m sorry, I just--think I need to go--bedroom.”

He hated it. He ruined a perfectly good dinner all because his brain decided to freak out over things that didn’t bother normal people.

“Hey, Virge. It’s okay, I’m not upset,” Patton said softly, “we can hang out more tomorrow. Movie night, remember?”

“Y-yeah.” Virgil said, rising from his chair. Vertigo crashed into him, almost sending him to the ground if not for a pair of arms catching him.

“I’ve got you.” Patton said, adjusting his hold so that Virgil stood, heavily leaning against him.

“T-thanks.”

“Let me help you to your room, okay? Wouldn’t want you falling for me again.”

Virgil let a small, breathless snort. He wanted to protest, but his legs felt too much like jello that he didn’t trust them. Patton guided him down the hallway, to Virgil’s dark cave of a bedroom. He let out a hiss when Patton flipped the light switch.

“Opps, sorry kiddo.” Patton apologized, shutting it off. They stumbled into the room, until they reached Virgil’s bed. Patton hoisted him onto the bed, fussing with his covers until Virgil was nice and tucked in.

“I’ll save you some pancakes.” Patton said as he closed the door. Virgil didn’t respond. He closed his eyes, the quiet darkness quelling his swelling anxiety. Fatigue finally claimed his bones and he fell unwillingly into slumber.

It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. It was one of those dreams you woke up more exhausted than rested. The thirst followed him into the dream. It gnawed at him, nearly indistinguishable from hunger. He had to satisfy it, relinquish the control it held over him. He went out to search for something to make the burning ache go away.

He went--well, he wasn’t sure he went. Everything turned hazy, as dreams often tended to be. The next thing he knew, he was standing over someone. No, not a person, they were just a pulse of red to him. They had it, the thing he needed and they weren’t giving it willingly. Something tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the ground as he flailed, desperate to escape its’ grip--

He shot up, gasping. Panic pumped through his veins. This wasn’t his bedroom, where was he? He frantically scanned the dark murky surroundings, relaxing slightly when he recognized it as his apartment living room. Still, what was he doing here and not his bedroom?

“You’re awake.”

Virgil jumped, vaguely making out Patton in the armchair beside the couch. He wasn’t in his cat onesie anymore. Oddly enough, he seemed dressed not in pajamas but in a polo shirt and blue jeans.

“Y-yeah, finally. I had a really weird nightmare.” Virgil said, surprised to find the action of speaking no longer painful. In fact, his throat felt fine even. Maybe the blender water’s effect was delayed.

Patton sighed, moving to sit on the couch next to Virgil. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he clasped his hands together, fingers twisting in a fretful manner. It alarmed Virgil. Patton was always babbling about something, jumping from one topic to the next seamlessly. Virgil didn’t know how he never ran out of things to say.

“Virgil, there’s something you should know,” He hesitated, “I was planning on telling you eventually. I just didn’t think…”

“What is it?” Virgil asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“I’m a vampire.”

Virgil gaped at him. Out of all the things to come out of Patton’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that. Was Virgil sure he wasn’t dreaming? Maybe this was some set-up to one of Patton’s corny puns. A way to placate Virgil. Something like “I’m a vampire. I like my coffee de-coffin-ated.” Virgil pretended to hate them. He groaned or grimaced at how awful they were. But really, it was all to cover up the smile they produced.

Virgil laughed, except it came out wrong. All high-pitched and strained.

“A vampire? Pffft,” He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to try for a better joke than that, Pat.”

“I’m not joking. Promise.” Patton insisted, grasping Virgil’s hands with his own.

Virgil swallowed, staring down at Patton’s pale hands. Come to think of it, Patton always shied away from doing outdoor activities, especially in the blazing hot summer heat.

“I’m Irish! I burn easily.” Patton once said, laughing.

Patton wasn’t laughing now. He looked abnormally serious, his lips pressed together in a neutral line. It was starting to freak Virgil out even more, to be honest.

“Vampires aren’t real, they’re just fictional,” Virgil said, as if he didn’t spend his time watching conspiracy theory videos at 4AM and wholeheartedly believing them on a daily basis.

Besides, Patton was too sweet, too kind and bubbly to be a vampire. They were gruesome creatures of the night, they feed on blood and had little room for morals. Unless, Virgil’s breathed hitched, unless Patton had been faking everything, what if their entire friendship was just a whole facade in order for him to get close enough to suck his blood?!

“Virgil, breathe,” Patton said, squeezing his hands.

He squeezed back, inhaling a deep shuddering breath.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for, remember?” Patton said, referring to a past conversation they had regarding Virgil’s anxiety.

“Patton, I just…” Virgil bit his lips, instantly regretting it. He must’ve bit down harder than usual because it hurt, “having a hard time not thinking this is a dream.”

“I can show you,” Patton said, “Is it okay if I turn on the lamp light?”

Virgil nodded and with his consent, Patton reached over to the end table and turned the lamp on. A soft glow flooded the room. Virgil closed his eyes regardless, black dots overwhelming his vision.

“You okay?”

“Just gimme a moment.” Virgil gritted his teeth, wincing again when the action hurt him. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I’ll only keep it on for as long as necessary,” Patton reassured.

“Alright,” He nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open. It burned like someone had been chopping garlic, but that was ridiculous, right?

Patton drew a breath in, opening his mouth wide. Virgil watched in horror as two sharp incisors intruded from his gumline. Even if Patton wasn’t one for cruel, practical pranks, there was no way it was a pair of cheap plastic fangs. They looked too real, too grotesque to be fake.

“What the fuck!” Virgil fell off the couch, tripping in his haste to flee. He plunged to the floor, his head banging against the corner of the coffee-table.

A dull pain blossomed around the crown of his head but he stood up anyways. He had to get away, flee from this twisted nightmare he found himself in. This couldn’t be real. Perhaps he thought he woke up only to be thrust into an even worst nightmare than before.

“Virgil, Virgil, please calm down!” Patton appeared at his side within a blink, placing his hands on Virgil’s shoulders.

He tried jerking out of Patton’s grip, glancing wildly for some sort of escape. Belatedly he realized though the lamp light had been turned off, he could still perfectly see his surroundings. What the hell? He looked back at Patton, taking in the worried wrinkles and his normal set of teeth. No fangs. Where were they? He knew he saw them, he couldn’t have imagined them--

“P-please dont hurt me,” He whimpered, digging his head into Patton’s chest. He didn’t know why he did that. He should kept thrashing, escaping the grip of a supposed vampire. But Patton was also his friend, who cheered him up with stupid cheesy puns. The one and only person Virgil trusted and sought comfort from.

Patton drew his arms around Virgil, pulling him closer. He froze, waiting for sharp fangs to pierce his neck. Instead a hand carded through his hair, soft and gentle.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Patton said, his voice tight with emotion, “I’m going to hurt those that did however.”

Virgil craned his neck to look up at him, “W-what do you mean?”

Patton didn’t say anything at first, continuing to caress Virgil’s hair.

“Virgil, how was your day?”

“What?”

“Your day, before you--” Patton hesitated, “before you fell asleep, what happened?”

“I overslept my alarm,” Virgil recalled, “I was in a rush to get to work, and I....”

He bit his lips, a soft curse slipping out from both the pain it produced and the fact he couldn’t remember. He must’ve went to work, right? Work has been so slow and tedious that he just forgot what happened. He must’ve said some of that out loud because Patton slowly shook his head.

“Virgil, I contacted your workplace. You never showed up to work.”

“Wha-but I wouldn’t--I mean--” Virgil jolted, making direct eye contact with Patton, “I’m a vampire now, aren’t I?”

He couldn’t believe he said that out loud just now. It was absurd, it didn’t make any sense! But...it did make sense in a maddening, down-the-rabbit-hole way. His unquenchable thirst, his unusually sensitive eyes, food tasting weird, that absurd, horrific nightmare that was starting to feel more and more like it wasn’t a nightmare. Had he really almost killed a person to drink their blood? He felt lightheaded, his world spinning wildly out of control as he clung to Patton for balance.

“I got you kiddo,” Patton whispered, leading him to sit on the couch, “do you need a glass of water?”

He was deflecting, maybe in a poor attempt to spare Virgil from the cold, harsh reality.

“Patton,” Virgil hissed, “I need to know.”

Patton averted his gaze, his hands curled into fists by his side.

“Yes.”

Virgil’s heart stopped beating. Wait a minute, didn’t vampires’ hearts already didn’t beat because they were undead? Did that mean Virgil was technically dead?!

He frantically checked his own pulse, relieved yet spooked hear it. Albeit, much more slow and lethargic than before.

“Our heart beats at a slower rate than humans,” Patton laughs weakly, “A lot of the myths around vampires don’t have any truth to them.”

“Pat,” Virgil’s voice trembled, “This is crazy, I mean--you’re a vampire and I’m one?! Did you--”

“No!” Patton insisted, his eyes flashing a brief red, “Virgil I promise you, I’d never do that. It can be really, really painful--the whole turning process. It can be so traumatic that well, I--I don’t even fully remember my own. Many don’t survive let alone live pass it. I’ve never wanted you to know what it’s like to--”

Patton cut himself off, jerking his head away. Virgil took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Know what?” He pressed. Patton’s lips quivered, tears glistening in his eyes, as he cupped Virgil’s cheek with his free hand. Virgil leaned down, gently touching his forehead with Patton’s.

“Pat, please.”

“You deserved a normal human life,” Patton said at last, a strangled noise escaping him, “Where you got to live and grow old and die. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be a monster like me.”

Patton broke away, clasping a hand to his mouth as the tears finally fell down his face. Virgil watched, his head throbbing as conflicting emotions raged war inside. Denial, rage, sadness--he pushed them all aside. Patton. He needed to focus on Patton.

Despite everything, he still knew one thing; Patton Patterson was the furthest thing from a monster. Virgil refused to believe anything otherwise. He needed that one thing to remain true or else he’d fall apart completely.

“Patton you’re not a monster, you’re--you’re,” Virgil took a breath, steadying himself, “you’re my best friend.”

Patton let out a bark of laughter, “If--if you knew the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Yes, I--I would,” Virgil swallowed, kneeling down beside him, “Pat, you are the kindest person I've ever met. You cry at cheesy Hallmark movies that end in happy endings. You volunteer at the local animal shelter and soup kitchen. You believe the best in people, even if they’re a shitty anxious nobody who doesn’t deserve it--”

“Virgil--” Patton choked.

“And--and unless that was all one elaborate ruse to fool the world, to fool me,” Virgil pressed on, “vampire or not, your presence makes my day bat-ter.”

“Bat-ter? L-like bat?”

“Yeah, well, congratulations you managed to get a pun outta me before the year’s end.”

Patton stared at him, mouth hanging open. He then laughed again, this time surging forward to tackle Virgil in a hug. Virgil yelped, falling to the floor hard enough to see black dots. Still, he clung to Patton as if afraid of never getting the opportunity again. Virgil let out a high-pitched keen, no longer being able to contain his anguish. Patton responded with a despairing wail of his own.

Tears poured down both of their faces as their sobbing duet continued. For a long, long while it was the only noise produced from either of them. Until it tapered off into weak whimpers and then it was just the sound of two slow, steady sets of heartbeats close together.

“Pat?” Virgil croaked, utterly exhausted from the ordeal. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, safe and secure in Patton’s arms. A small part of him yearned to wake up in his bed and learn that all of this was a nightmare and nothing more. Yet the pain from unconsciously biting his lip with his newly sharpened incisors said otherwise.

“Yes?” Patton answered, his hand brushing through Virgil’s hair once more. He was so soft and gentle that it was hard for Virgil to ever imagine him the same species as Count Dracula.

“If--if you didn’t, um, turn me, then wh-who-how--why don’t I remember--why would--” Virgil let out a frustrated huff.

“Virgil, I...I don’t know who did it or why. There’s lots of reasons why another vampire would do it,” Patton said, dropping to a low growl, “and none of them are good ones.”

“Oh,” Virgil swallowed, “and that person? I went after a person, didn’t I? That was real, right? Did--did I hurt them? I swear I didn’t mean to, I--I--”

“Virge, deep breathes,” Patton said, “They’re okay, you didn’t hurt them. They were fanged out but okay. And then I brought you back here and gave you some of my blood supply.”

“I--I don’t remember that.” Virgil said, “I remember attacking them and something...stopped me? That was you right? But I don’t--I don’t remember--”

Virgil’s voice trailed off, the words once more getting tangled up in his throat. He was afraid. Virgil was always afraid but this was new. Vampires were real and he was one of them. He was an immortal, bloodsucking creature of the night. As much as it sounded cool on paper, it was utterly terrifying. Especially to know he had no memory of becoming one.

As if sensing his distressed thoughts, Patton brushed his bangs aside to kiss his forehead.

“Shh, it’s common for young vampires to black out from blood rage. It’s--well, it’s not okay what happened to you, Virgil. I’m so sorry, I should’ve been there to stop it from happening. But I swear to you it’s going to be okay and that I’m here now to help.”

“Promise?” Virgil asked, yawning.

“Of course. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a stake in my heart.”

And while Patton’s words didn’t immediately quell his fears, he fell asleep knowing Patton would be there for him, like he always was.

#thomas sanders #sander sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #moxiety #kat writes

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laurazepamwrites · 4 years

Text

The chemicals between us ~ Chapter 11

Mei stood nervously outside Commander Morrisons office, her hand hanging in the air hesitant to knock. She had worked on her report for at least four hours and was fuelled by Junkrats encouragement. Now the moment had come to actually give her Commander the information she had found and the fear of rejection blocked her path. Should she even bring up the desire to go or trust Morrison to give her the task himself? What if she came across as desperate? All these questions spiked her anxiety as she stared at the door, hand in the air. A sudden knocking noise made her jump as Snowball took the initiative and tapped itself lightly against the door. ‘ Snowball !’ Mei mouthed as Morrison gave permission to enter from the otherside. She scowled at her droid and took a deep breath before entering.

Jack looked up as she entered, ‘Ah Mei, you have the report? Im impressed. I was expecting it by tomorrow at least.’

‘Y-Yes Sir.’ Mei entered and shut the door on Snowball. ‘ Serves you right .’ She thought as she approached the Commanders desk and handed him her report. ‘I've actually discovered a pattern of disappearances Sir, recently too, one of them is a rather famous Omnic.’

Jack nodded his acknowledgement as he studied her report leaving mei to anxiously bite her nails. ‘ He’s going to hate it, this is all a waste of time, why did I listen to that damn Junker!’ It felt like an eternity was passing before he finally gave an encouraging nod. ‘Er Mei? You can sit down you know..’

‘Oh!’ She hastily sat herself down and smoothed out her jumper and leggings absentmindedly as Jack waited patiently for her to get more settled. ‘You’ve done good work here Mei, and I agree. I think you have definitely found a lead here. If Null sector are nearby this can't be good. I’ll get Athena to get as much from the arrest report as she can and will assemble a surveillance team to head to Calais-’

‘I'll go!’ She blurted out.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Sorry! Sorry Sir, its just..I did the research and compiled a report. I volunteered myself, I think it's only fair I also go on the mission.’

Morrison sighed.. ‘Mei i'm not sure this is the best time to-’

‘No! Im- Im being assertive! And I’m putting my foot down! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be allowed to go on a recon mission sir! You can't expect me to be cooped up here all the time doing nothing! I mean..You let the Junkers go and they're not even Overwatch!’

Jack held a hand up ‘Mei you've made some valid points but might i suggest you take a small breather whilst i explain some things?’

Mei chewed the inside of her lip and nodded.

‘Winston took you and Lena to Paris after reports of Omnic attacks yes? I heard it was quite the reunion..however you got injured, It could have been more serious if Dr Zeigler were not present. You're not a soldier Mei, you're not trained in any forms of combat. I have a team to look after and that involves making sure everyone here is as safe as possible. I understand you're frustrated, it must be hard feeling like you can't help but I've been speaking to Winston and-

‘Sir do you know I spent 2 weeks alone on an ecopoint with hardly any power?’ She said cooly.

‘I am aware-’

‘Do you know I spent over a week in the Antarctic with nothing but a tent and a weapon I made from scratch to get to the nearest point of civilization?’

‘Mei Im trying to-’

‘Why does everyone here think i'm some kind of doll?! I've proven I'm resourceful, that I can handle a gun that creates Ice for goodness sake and I'm not a bad shot either!’

‘Mei Im sending you to Calais.’ Morrisons voice spoke over hers.

‘I...what?’

‘As I was trying to explain...We can't play to our strengths if we don't use all of the team. I've spoken to Winston and he agrees, you were critical in the success in Paris and rather formidable with that gun and droid of yours. We do however have one concern..’

‘Which is..?’ She asked, but Mei already knew the question. She was waiting for it ever since she first arrived.

‘How are you Mei? Really? After what happened to your team?’

‘I..’ Mei hesitated and considered her answer. ‘It..It was hard to adjust. I've been gone for ten years, It's been hard but honestly I'm doing so much better now..’ She tried to sound optimistic. She could barely convince herself that was true.

Morrison seemed unconvinced himself. ‘Have you seen anyone professionally? To talk to I mean?’

‘I did see a therapist a few times..and I felt a lot better.’ That was only half true. She had seen someone but she had struggled to talk about the loss she felt, the guilt, the anger, the sadness when she desperately tried not to feel those things. She stopped going eventually, she threw herself into her work and it helped keep the dark away.

Morrison looked doubtful..'it was a terrible thing that happened Mei, have you spoken to anyone here? Winston? Angela?'

Mei almost scoffed. Winston had tried to talk to her but as usual she closed up, something about having no idea they were in trouble and everything appeared to be running smoothly at the ecopoint. She had made her excuses and left before he could explain further, not wanting to hear how he had thought all was well when her team were dead around her. After that he had given her her space leaving her to come to him if she needed to talk about what happened, but she never did.

'I don't need to talk to anyone sir, I'm fine.' She said firmly.

'You don't seem yourself Mei..'

'With all due respect Sir we are up against a well funded terrorist organisation who outnumber us 100 to 1. I'm sure I can be forgiven for 'not being myself' sometimes.'

'Hmm good point. Very well Mei if you think you are up to this then I see no reason why you can’t go for recon. It will be good for you to get more experience in the field, I'll make sure a senior member will be on the mission with you.’

Her eyes lit up ‘Really? You mean it!’ She couldn't help but beam.

Morrison chuckled lightly ‘I wish more of you was this enthusiastic. I’ll discuss your report with Ana and Winston. Keep an ear out, Athena will call you to a mission briefing by tomorrow.’

Mei Jumped from her seat. ‘Xie xie! Thank you! Thank you Commander Morrison! I can't wait for the briefing! Opps, I mean..I know it's serious but you know what I mean?’

‘You're dismissed Mei.’ Jack said patiently.

‘Oh! Yes Sir! Thank you! Thank you again!’ She closed the door behind her, waiting those few seconds for her brain to catch up on what had just happened. ‘I did it Snowball!’ She grabbed her droid from the air and spun him around gleefully.

Jack smiled briefly at the sound of Mei celebrating but it was short lived, his expression darkened as he accessed his computer, once again bringing up the secret communications with the stranger.

: So….guess you're still pretty mad about Bryansk?

:You gave away our position and could have lost us everything.’

:And I heard it was handled well enough. Talon now has a lot less weapons.

:What's the reason you’re contacting me?

:I think I'm being watched. More than usual.

:What do you mean?’

:They are getting suspicious here, and I think i'm in danger. Im sorry..i need to give them what they want sometimes, Im just warning you need to lay low for awhile but ill still be working my magic one way or another.’

:Understood, A little warning next time.’

:Sometimes we don't have that luxury friend. Adios.’

The screen went black leaving Jack staring at his expression etched with trepidation.

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

The next Morning Mei hovered at the entrance to the large meeting room, she was early by about twenty minutes and now anxious that she would appear too eager. She started to bite her nails when she heard the click of heels approaching, turning to the sound she was greeted by the sight of Angela, her blonde hair up in a messy ponytail and holding two mugs in her hands, a small folder of paper under one arm. ‘Ah good you’re here. I was hoping you would be early, unless you like cold coffee.’ The blonde woman said brightly.

Mei felt more at ease and was thankful someone expected her to be early. ‘Are you on the Calais mission Angela?’ She asked, taking one of the mugs with a smile of thanks and holding the door open.

‘Ja, would be good to stretch my legs as i'm sure you can appreciate, and as this is a surveillance mission Jack felt a less inconspicuous look would be more suitable.’ Angela replied. The two women sat beside each other at the large round table. Angela began rifling through the papers, Mei took a drink from her mug and glanced over, realizing it was her report. ‘Is it.Is it ok?’ She asked.

‘Hmm?’ Angela looked up at her. ‘Ah yes! You’ve done a fine report, and you found a good lead too. With Athena's assistance we may be able to locate the addresses of those who have reported missing Omnics.’ She took a quick sip from her mug. ‘Oh and well done on noticing the Activist artist had vanished.’

Mei pursed her lips. ‘Yes well, that might not have been so much me..but I did most of the work!’

Angela raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her and waited for her to continue. Mei tapped her fingers on the table in irritation before blurting out her grievances. ‘That damn Junker walks in with that smug attitude like he owns the place and starts poking fun like he always does and - and he set a fire somewhere! Did you know that? I should tell the Commander.. Anyway, I might have been feeling at a loss trying to find some leads and he just takes over and-!’ Mei waved one of her hands at the report and took a rather angry slurp of her coffee. Angela tried not to laugh at her friend. ‘I see.’ She said, suppressing a smile and occupying herself with tidying the papers in front of her.

‘Is that all? Do I need to mention he found some information on the report or not?

‘No, but did you thank him?’

‘I..no.’

‘Maybe start with that.’

‘But he’s a jerk.’

‘And it was only a few days ago he was in my office complaining about you..honestly, you are as bad as each other.

Mei looked shocked at the accusation ‘Angela! We are nothing alike! For starters he’s an international criminal! He’s grown up completely feral! He’s-What did he say about me?!’ She didnt get her answer as they both looked up as everyone else entered. ‘We’ll discuss this another time.’ Said Angela, still trying not to laugh. Mei huffed, folded her arms and scowled sideways at her friend.

‘Good morning ladies.’ Ana said cheerfully as she joined them at the table followed by Commander Morrison and Winston. They were each carrying a copy of Mei’s report.

‘So..’ Ana began. ‘Thanks to Dr Zhou we have a promising lead in Calais. We try to keep such missions of intelligence gathering to as small a number as possible to avoid detection but as this is not your field Mei we will send Angela along with you. I think you both can keep a low profile as sightseers.’

‘It's a simple enough mission.’ Said Morrison. ‘Gather as much intelligence as possible regarding missing Omnics and Null sector. Don't mention Overwatch or Talon to anyone to avoid suspicion. We will arrange a hotel and car hire under false names and identification, you’ll have 24 hours in the city before pick up.’

‘ I have gained access to the addresses of the Omnics who have filed missing reports for your convenience .’ Offered Athena.

‘Angela will be going with a concealed weapon but that will be the only one available. It would be too risky for Mei to have her weapon with her, and to be on the safe side maybe it's best to leave your droid behind Mei so you are less recognizable’

‘Oh..’ Mei sounded unsure. Snowball was her near constant companion, it would be odd to have him so far away from her. ‘If it's ok Commander, can he come along but remain at the hotel?’ Morrison thought for a moment before grunting and nodding his head in agreement. Mei let out a small sigh of relief.

‘When do we depart?’ Asked Angela.

‘Athena has discovered that an Omnics right rally is due to happen in 3 days time. Maybe you can get more information there.’ Offered Winston.

‘Good idea.’ Agreed Ana. ‘Lena will take you there the night before, make sure you’re both ready for departure.’

‘Yes Captain.’ Mei replied.

‘Keep your wits about you and be careful.’ Warned Morrison. ‘Omnic rallys can potentially become heated and France has had its fair share of violence lately as you both know. Watch each other's backs out there.’

Angela nodded in agreement, ‘You can count on us Commander.’

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

Snowball glided along the corridor towards the common room followed closely by Mei and Angela. ‘...And you may want to learn a couple phrases of french if you don't already. Oh and I will need to stop by the City of lace and fashion.’ Angela was saying as she walked in step with Mei who looked up at her in puzzlement. ‘It's a museum, oh and we best see the museum of fine arts too.’

‘Erm..don't you think we should be working on the mission?’

Angela chuckled. ‘Ah Mei, we’re undercover. We should play the part, and if we have souvenirs and shopping bags we will look much less suspicious.’

‘Shopping bags huh?’

‘Well..I would like some new shoes at least.’ Angela shrugged as they walked into the common room together. There was evidence of early breakfasts having been made, a near empty jar of peanut butter on the side. Hana, Jamison and Lucio were heard laughing on the decking outside enjoying the morning sun.

‘Now's your Chance Mei.’ Said Angela who had begun washing their mugs in the sink.

‘Hmm?’

Angela nodded towards the glass doors that lead to the outside seating area. ‘To thank him.’

‘Right now?’

Angela did not answer, she dried her hands on a nearby tea towel and raised her eyebrows at Mei as she strode past her and opened the door to the decking. Mei’s eyes widened in alarm as her so-called friend brazenly greeted the group and informed Jamison that she wished to speak to him inside. Jamison had surely said something because Hana and Lucio were now laughing, she overheard Hana jokingly say ‘ Ding ding round fifty!’

‘What was that!’ She hissed at Angela as soon as the blonde turned back around. She had no time for an answer as Jamison was quick to follow Angela, looking grumpy at what he assumed was going to be a telling off. The scowl on Mei’s face was not helpful.

‘Fucks sake, whatever it is I didn't do alright? Well..might of? Look just have your moan woman and get it over with!’

‘Well I suppose since you brought it up maybe you could explain why i found a service droid with most of its mechanics taken out..?’

‘Hey my experiments are none of your business!’

‘Oh so it was you!’

At that point Angela made a rather dramatic show of clearing her throat, Mei rolled her eyes and sighed deeply to compose herself. ‘Okay..okay look. I didn't want to fight..’

‘Really? You've made a fine job of that.’

‘For goodness sake! I'm trying to say thanks!’

Junkrat stared at her, the confusion visible on his face as he processed what Mei had said. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ He said eventually.

Mei started to lace her fingers together, suddenly feeling shy and looking to her feet. ‘You erm..you actually did help me. With the missing Omnics I mean, and I took your advice, I did see the Commander and I'm going on the mission to Calais for recon. I ..I guess I wouldn't have had such success without your help, so honestly, thank you Jamison.’

She expected him to scoff or make fun or to laugh at her, but instead what he did gave her a strange sudden warmth in her stomach. He smiled, not one of his manic grins when he set something on fire or blew up one of his explosives and neither was it the kind of smile when he joked around with Hana and Lucio or had a few too many drinks with McCree and Torbjorn. He was genuinely smiling at her and she felt like she was truly seeing his face for the first time.

‘That's Brilliant Mei! See I told you didnt I! You just gotta puff yourself up and make yourself heard! Honestly, made up for ya! When are you going?’

Mei gave a small smile. ‘Erm..two days' time, it will give me a chance to prepare at least.’

‘Ah you’ll be fine. Show the old man what you’re made of.’

She smiled and suppressed a small chuckle. ‘Maybe I will..thank you.’

‘No worries.’ He said, still smiling at her. Mei suddenly felt unsure of what to say next and they both seemed to remember their mutual dislike of each other. They stood there both of them not knowing what to say or do now and Jamison was never good at being quiet when feeling uncomfortable. ‘So er..what now? Do we shake hands? Hug it out? Go back to annoying each other?’

‘Erm..I mean we could try to..Oh I don't know! You are very annoying.’

‘Annnd she's back in the room!’ Jamison laughed and winked at her ‘Take a chill pill Frosty.’ He said back to her as he went back outside. Mei continued to stand in place and took a few seconds to process whatever had just happened. He genuinely seemed happy for her didn't he?

‘Wow.’ She heard Angela say.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Mei asked, narrowing her eyes at the Doctor.

‘Oh nothing..I didn't see anything or notice anything, and at least you won't have to worry about thanking him now. Sometimes you just need a little push. Rip that bandaid off as it were’

‘You are not funny and you are a terrible friend.’

‘You're welcome.’ Angela smiled warmly at her.

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

‘What's your problem?’ Roadhog grunted from his bed. Junkrat looked up from maintaining his peg, ‘Huh?’ Roadhog wheezed as he pulled himself up into a sitting position and reached over to his oxygen tank, clipping the nozzle of the hose to his mask and inhaling deeply. ‘You're too quiet.’

‘Damned if I do damned If I don't..’ Junkrat muttered. ‘Im fine.’

‘If you say so.’ The huge Junker replied and remained silent. A few seconds passed and predictably Junkrat spoke. ‘Mei’s got herself a mission.’

‘Mei now is it?’

‘Well..it was weird. She was her usual frosty self and then she's thanking me.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘I dunno mate, felt weird.’

‘You think any positive interaction is weird, Rat.’

‘Cos it is mate and I don't get it, If i don't get it I don't like it. I don't like being confused and everyone one here is fucking confusing. Especially her.’ He swore to himself and went back to work, a deep frown etched on his face. Roadhog watched him for a moment and sighed to himself.

‘Idiot.’

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

It was approaching midnight and Mei was still wide awake. Time had gotten away from her and she had spent hours preparing for her mission right down to what clothes she would wear and how long Angela could spend shopping. She had gone over everything with a fine tooth comb but still could not shake the nervousness and doubt gnawing at her. What if she screwed up, what if she blew hers and Angela's cover? What if they didn't find anything and it turns out to be a huge waste of time and resources and it would be her fault for pushing the Commander to let her go?

‘ He genuinely seemed happy for me.’ The sudden thought jolted her from her anxieties, but she didn't want to think about Jamison and she was annoyed at herself for doing so. ‘Snowball have I forgotten anything?’ She asked her droid but he was far away on her desk charging silently in sleep mode. Mei sighed and decided to go through her preparations again tomorrow with Angelas help. She settled into bed hoping she’d have no claustrophobic nightmares and tried to relax her thoughts with deep breathing, she concentrated on her chest rising and lowering and soon began to feel the weight of sleep slowly creeping on her. Her mind flashed with the image of how Jamison smiled at her and her eyes snapped open, the strange warmth blossomed in her stomach again. She grumbled, ignored it and rolled over, pulling the blanket closer around herself, annoyed that he was even bothering her in her thoughts.

#soon enough?#Overwatch #fanfic #jamison fawkes #Junkrat #meihem #junkmei #mei ling zhou

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emospritelet · 4 years

Note

Manifesto prompt : that meeting goes as well as a truce negociation during the war of independance in Scotland 500 years ago

I thought they might yell at each other, but in the end they seemed to settle for sarcasm and cold hostility *shrugs*

[AO3]

Sutherland eyed her for a moment, then pushed himself upright, gesturing to the side where a tray sat, containing a teapot and taller pot of coffee, two cups and saucers, milk jug and sugar bowl.

“Can I offer you some tea, Miss French?” he asked. “Or perhaps some coffee? They just brought it in before you came.”

“Thank you. Tea, please.”

He nodded, and poured a cup for her, setting it on the table and pushing the milk jug and sugar towards her. Belle added milk and stirred, setting the spoon in the saucer.

“I trust you made it to the hotel without incident,” he added, as he poured coffee for himself. “The press can be rather - intrusive - I find. Have they been bothering you?”

“I had to lock the library doors to keep them out,” she said flatly, and a tiny smile twisted the corners of his mouth.

“Well, that’s notoriety for you,” he said lightly. “Try being in Government.”

“I have no desire for more press scrutiny, thanks,” she said.

“I very much doubt they’ll be going anywhere until we move on,” he said. “You should try not to let it bother you. It’ll blow over in a few days.”

“You hope, right?”

Sutherland gave her a brief, side-long look, and stirred his coffee, tapping the spoon on the edge of the cup.

“Please, take a seat,” he said. “You’ll find the couch quite comfortable.”

“I prefer to have this discussion here,” said Belle, slipping the satchel from her shoulder onto the table and opening it up.

“As you wish,” he said, with a tiny shrug.

He took a seat opposite her and leaned on his elbows, threading his fingers together. He had long fingers, with clean, manicured nails. Nice hands and nice eyes. Belle pressed her lips together, and turned her attention to the contents of her satchel, trying to gather her thoughts. She pulled out the folder she had brought, setting it in front of her, and took a drink of tea. It was hot, and she winced, setting the cup down. It rattled in the saucer, and she realised her hands were shaking. Squaring her jaw, she clutched the edges of the folder, trying to think of what to say. Sutherland was looking supremely calm, and it only made her more nervous. He raised an eyebrow.��

“Well,” he said. “I came up here to give the public some good news. To celebrate a local success story. You appear to have derailed that somehow.”

“Sorry I ruined your photo-opp with some hard truths.”

“Are you?”

“Not really.”

Sutherland sucked his teeth, eyeing her cautiously, as though she was a wild creature that he was unsure how to handle. Good, be wary, she thought. Corner me and I’ll bite.

“Might I ask why the library is closing?”

“Because the Council doesn’t have enough money,” she said. “Or - or at least they do, but they’ve decided to spend it elsewhere. The new bypass, for one.”

“Which will undoubtedly provide the town with much-needed infrastructure,” he said. “It’s a long-term investment for the good of all.”

“You think education and literacy aren’t?”

Sutherland didn’t answer, reaching for his coffee and taking a sip.

“How long have you been running the library?”

“Three years, give or take.”

“You must have gotten to know Avonleigh’s residents fairly well in that time.”

“I like to think so.”

“I suppose the library used to be sort of a focal point, in towns like this,” he added. “I remember going to one as a child in my own home town.”

“That’s how I’ve tried to run it,” said Belle.

“Of course, things change over time,” he went on. “People take in information in different ways these days, and technology makes a lot of the old ways redundant, but that doesn’t mean libraries can’t move with the times, does it?”

Belle felt her eyes narrow.

“There’s still value in the printed word,” she said. “And technology’s only useful when you have access to it.”

“Which most people do these days.”

“Most isn’t all, is it?”

“So the majority of your patrons are the elderly and unemployed, I presume?” he asked. “Well, we certainly want to ensure the continued provision of excellent services for disadvantaged groups.”

“Which means what, exactly?” she said, and he gave her that politician’s smile again.

“Funding is allocated on the basis of need, with budgeting at a local level delegated to relevant authorities.”

She reached for her cup to give herself a chance to think, taking a sip and feeling intense relief when her hand remained steady.

“So you’re telling me the library closing is the Council’s fault,” she surmised. “Weird, they’re singing a different song.”

Sutherland spread his hands, as though trying to show how open he was being. It made her eyes narrow further.

“The Government wants to give local communities the final say in how they apportion taxpayer funds,” he said smoothly. “We prefer to relinquish central control and delegate spending decisions to those on the ground, who know how best to prioritise the needs of their people. It seems that in this case, from what you’ve told me, the need for a library was considered less important than other spending priorities.”

Belle stared at him for a moment, processing what she had just heard.

“That’s bullshit,” she said bluntly, and Sutherland’s brows drew down.

“Is there a problem?” he asked quietly, and Belle frowned.

“You’re basically trying to tell me this has nothing to do with you,” she said flatly. “But it’s central Government that controls funding, right?”

“We don’t set local authority rates or interfere in budgets.”

“Maybe not, but don’t try to tell me that’s the only source of funding those authorities get, because we both know that’s not true,” she said. “And we both also know that central Government has slashed payment to local authorities under your administration. Which leaves them short of funds.”

“Difficult decisions have had to be made.”

“Really?” Belle folded her arms. “Do you tell that to big business when it comes knocking?”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read online, Miss French,” he said, in a bored voice.

“I’m well aware of that, don’t patronise me,” she said coldly. “Critical thinking’s something I teach in one of my after-school classes, I don’t need lessons in it from you.”

“Nor do I need lessons in the assessment of beneficial services,” he said, matching her tone.

“Then we both know where we stand, hmm?” she said. “Which begs the question: why ask me to come tonight?”

Sutherland pulled a face.

“I thought you wanted to use your new-found notoriety to discuss the fate of local libraries,” he said, looking irritated. “I thought it best that we start with a realistic assessment of the current status, that’s all. I’d hate you to have unrealistic expectations.”

“More bullshit,” she muttered under her breath, and Sutherland raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

Belle leaned on the table, watching his eyes flick up and down momentarily before fixing on hers.

“I think we both know that you’d rather not be speaking to me right now,” she said. “I have no doubt that it’s only due to the coverage of me yelling at you that you’ve decided you have to. This was as much of a press opportunity for you as it is for me.”

Sutherland frowned.

“I’ve made no secret of that.”

“So maybe we can stop with the fake concern, I’m tired,” she said coldly. “Don’t act like you care about the fate of this library or any other when it’s your Government destroying them!”

He sat back, tapping his fingers against the table top.

“Antagonising me won’t help your cause, Miss French,” he said. “I deal with more difficult people than you everyday. Most days three times before breakfast.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she said. “And I’m well aware that you’re the one with the power here. All I have is a voice, and the inability to shut the hell up and sit down when people tell me I should.”

His mouth twitched a little at that.

“I won’t deny that you’ve provided a - distraction - that we hadn’t anticipated,” he said. “But perhaps I would have reacted in the same way, were I in your position.”

“Except you never have been, have you?” she retorted. “I imagine you’ve never had to go without anything in your life, right? Never had people dismissing your opinion and shutting you down because of your gender or your colour or - or the fact that you’re poor or illiterate! You have no idea what it’s like to have nothing, do you?”

“Does that mean you think I stand no chance of making the right decisions regarding those that do have nothing?” he asked mildly. “By that rationale, no one with a job should be a public servant. Something of a contradiction, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s a prime example of reductio ad absurdum and you know it!”

She could feel her fury building, her hands tightening on the folder, and Sutherland sat back in his chair. His eyes were very dark in the light from the lamps around them, his skin warm-toned and his hair gleaming, flecks of gold and silver in amongst the brown. His forefinger was running across his mouth as he watched her, an unreadable expression on his face, the pad of his finger gently pressing against the soft fullness of his lower lip as it passed. For a moment of pure insanity she found herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him, and she licked her lips, blinking rapidly. Good God, woman, get yourself together! You’re supposed to want to yell at him, not bang him senseless!

“Getting angry won’t help you make your point,” he said quietly. “It just means that I’m more likely to stop listening.”

“Did you have any intention of listening?”

Sutherland let his hand drop, and the tip of his tongue ran across his lower lip, making it glisten briefly.

“Would it surprise you if I said yes?”

Belle huffed in frustration.

“Wow, you politicians really love answering questions with more questions, huh?”

He smiled a little at that.

“Force of habit,” he said. “How about I ask you a question you want to answer. Exactly what is it that you want from me?”

Belle hesitated.

“I want to save my library,” she said simply. “And all other libraries in this country.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of my hands.”

“No it isn’t!” she insisted. “Not if you don’t want it to be! Unless you’re saying that the Prime Minister has less power than - than a local Council leader!”

Sutherland gave her a thin smile.

“I don’t even get paid as much as some of them,” he remarked. “If you’re trying to appeal to my ego, Miss French, you’re wasting your time.”

“This whole meeting’s been a waste of my time, it seems,” she said bitterly.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said insincerely. “What’s in the folder you keep fondling?”

“Research,” she said stiffly. “Research I put together for my meetings with the Council. For all the good it did.”

“Leave it here, I’ll read it.”

Sure you will, she thought wryly, but tossed the folder across the table to him. Sutherland slapped a hand down on it, fingers pushing up onto their tips to hold it in place.

“Was there something else?” he asked.

“I - I could take you through the research, if you wanted,” she said.

“Much as you need no lessons in critical thinking, I need no help with reading a few documents,” he said coldly, and Belle felt her jaw clench.

“So this is you patting me on the head and telling me to be a good little girl and stop bothering you, is it?” she said, and he smirked at her.

“You’re more than capable of interpreting intent and meaning, I’m sure,” he said dryly. “I’ll get this back to you before I leave Avonleigh, Miss French.”

Belle hesitated, bouncing on her toes, and he continued to watch her with that flat, dark-eyed stare.

“If that’s all?” he said.

She realised that she had screwed up, that she had allowed her frustration to get the better of her, and that she had, no doubt, played right into his hands in doing so. God, she wanted to scream! She swallowed down the bitter words she wanted to spit at him, and raised her chin, trying for a calmness she didn’t feel.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she said stiffly. “I’m sorry we couldn’t reach an agreement.”

“I’m sorry too.” He was already looking away, to where his empty coffee cup sat. “My Chief of Staff will see you out. Good evening, Miss French.”

He began pouring himself more coffee, not looking at her, and Belle wanted to stamp her foot. Turning on her heel, she headed for the door, frustration boiling over inside her.

#fic: manifesto #sutherelle fic #sutherelle #my fic #ripperblackstaff

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limunette · 4 years

Note

Hello! my nickname is Gi ♈️. Can I have a 🎨 reading please? Fun fact about me: I hate cereal with milk or yogurt so I only eat it dry, people think i'm super weird for doing this but WHO WANTS TO EAT SOGGY CEREAL?!??! thank you in advance!!!! ✨

Ohh I never tried it with yogurt. Okay hate me but I actually like soggy cereal opps. I need it to be soften a little bit, maybe I'm just really old haha. That's not weird at all, Ive eaten it dry too and it's good! Keep doing what you're doing. :P

I see your aura being red, green and yellow. You have a very fiesty personality, probably a fire sign. Someone who feels comfort being alone with a book than people around them. Loves nature and would care for animals. You are the type of person who unfortunately also lets people walk all over them and use you because you feel that may be the only way you get attention/noticed.

You definitely feel like you aren't being heard or seen, even with people around you. You want to leave this place, start new and develop a new personality. Seperating yourself from the people who knew you. You can't though, because you're still too attached.

Readings are open. Follow the rules before submitting.

Feedback is appreciated & required.

Consider purchasing a reading instead of a free one, for a more in depth dive into your query. Holiday themed readings also available.

Consider tipping after your reading if you feel it helped you & for energy used.

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rkmiya · 5 years

Photo

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ SN PROJECT SOLO TIME ˎˊ˗

month: three week: four - may 26th LIVE CONCERT! opening dance + freestyle! (1:11-1:20) hush + omona! (line distribution) for outfit reference, check back to THIS!

sunmi was beyond ready for the finale of this prison they’ve been subjected to for three months. it was more draining than sunmi initially anticipated. they were together at any given moment. for meals, for practise, to sleep. it was nova kids 24/7. sunmi longed for the isolation of her room and for the comfort of knowing she’d be alone without anything recording her.

(she knows that for some time after she’s still going to walk around with a certain stiffness as if expecting a camera to catch a habit of hers even if there isn’t any one around her.)

the group had been training together. the practise room was a blend of red and blue and the single gold vest. solji. she had been blessed the the opportunity. sunmi took it upon herself to tell her she was proud of her. she more than deserved the position because she surely was talented. even when the other denied it, sunmi assured her that she has impeccable talent and she deserves to be recognised for it and she deserves to relish in the victory of it. beyond that, the eldest trainee took no notice to vest colours. nor did she ever grow meek for wearing the red vest. unchanged with her interactions with any of the girls despite any comparisons or trickery their ceo tried to commit. she treated them all the same. she wanted them to succeed.

wendy was looking much healthier now. it was a relief of sunmi’s to know that she didn’t have to worry about the other as much. they only had a week to fine tune any nicks and hiccups in their performances. sunmi couldn’t afford to have to back pedal to make sure no one else was falling apart. if they were, they either didn’t come to her or did a damn good job of hiding it. the truth was, the close they came to the finale the more and more tired sunmi felt. she was exhausted and probably didn’t have the emotional capacity to try and shoulder someone else’s problems.

they were almost done. she just wanted it to be over.

she wasn’t expecting hui to join her on one of her broodier days but she welcomed the company. the two eldest of the girls and boys respectively. for a moment they were together in silence then in the next, hui said in almost a whisper, “what if only the girlss or boyss will get to debut?” sunmi’s shoulders rolled back and she stiffened. she played with this scenario in her mind many times. she tortured herself with it.

hyun bin believed he was being so innovative by making a show in which both genders compete to debut. it was to generate public attention and hype. it was to get the popularity that nova had lost over the years because he so carelessly decided not to debut a group outright. what he didn’t care to think of was how many trainees were suffering from this. how many of them were banking on this; both male and female trainees were desperate at this point. half and half. if one goes, the other is at a loss. five years. sunmi can’t do this anymore and she knows she can’t.

her eyes glaze over a bit. she looks a bit distant. there’s some sort of ache in her chest. regret. “then i signed away another 2 years for no reason. i’ll be 28 by the time i’m done with nova and if we don’t debut now i sure as hell know i won’t be debuted then. i’ll have wasted my time and life at this company and i hate that this is the scenario for more than just me.”

he doesn’t say something. looking at him through her peripherals tells her he was stewing over her response. she turns to him as he speaks again. “you think this month will be the end of the line for me?” sunmi wants to scoff. she wants to laugh and tell him he’s being ridiculous. but is he though? they were both here, red vests even after everything they’ve put into this company. told that they were disappointing despite being masters of their specific creed. they’re not ready. not good enough. humiliated. ignored.

maybe huidong wasn’t crazy for thinking so because sunmi was almost certain that no matter what she did, she was still going to be the one going home.

“you?” she shakes her head. “probably not. i’ve been saying this from the beginning that i felt like this was going to be a boys thing. nova boys. seems like the way to go, no? i wouldn’t be surprised if after all this when we watch the show itself that it’s edited for the boys favour mostly while the girls are given smaller snippets.” she doesn’t want to sound bitter but she can’t help it. how many years have gone by that the nova girls have been given the shorter end of the stick? even if nova has done things that were shared between the two genders, who always had the greater opportunities? the boys. it’s been that way for years and she doubts it’ll change now.

“what’re they going to do without you? what would they even kick you off for? for saying you’re too old?” sunmi scoffs. the idea sounds so laughable to her. “then that’s nova’s fault for taking years to even do something. if they did this years ago, your age wouldn’t be the question.” huidong nods although she’s not sure if it’s because he agrees or because he’s noting that he’s listening to her. sunmi sighs.

“i’m sad bambam got eliminated,” huidong says after a moment. sunmi looks up at him in alarm. “hui opp--”

“as a hyung it was my responsibility.”

sunmi shakes her head, reaching out to touch his arm and grab his attention. “no.” she says this firmly. “it’s not. we feel that need to protect and herd them so we feel that personal responsibility when we lose one or if they fall apart but we cannot take that as a personal fault. it’s not our job to at this moment to make sure they all excel. it’s theirs. we may be a team but it’s time they sink or swim on their own. you can’t take that on yourself.”

for a moment she expects huidong to counter her. to say that she was wrong and it was his fault. that he should have gone home instead or ensured that bambam did better. instead he says she was right. “maybe that’s what hyun bin was trying to tell me.”

sunmi shakes her head and scoffs. “who knows what that man is trying to say.”

at some point, sunmi overhears a conversation in which kaeun says she wasn’t sorry for taking a spot in the safe zone. she wouldn’t give up her chance for it. sunmi realises that if she cared more (or if this was a version of herself from a couple of years ago) she would have gotten angry. insulted. probably would have rounded the corner, curses blazing to tell kaeun off with how insensitive she sounded. the truth was, kaeun was right.

none of them would feel sorry for being safe. none of them would give a moment to look back. because even if sunmi took the time to tell the girls that they should do their damn best, that they got this in them and whatever other encouragements she had for them, they still avoided the blue vests like the plague. awkward. possibly envious. and it was sunmi who wasn’t fazed in the end.

instead the elder nods. she only says, “you should never be sorry,” as she passes. it was the only tidbit she gave to the conversation.

sunmi wasn’t expecting a thank you from wendy. it was a surprise. it came up out of the blue after they wrapped up a group practise together before branching off to to individual work. sunmi almost reminded wendy that there was no need to thank her. she would always check to make sure that they were okay. that always went without saying.

wendy insisted regardless and sunmi found herself rolling her eyes (playfully) and pulling the younger into a hug. “i love you all very much, okay? i always want to make sure you guys are doing your best.” she mumbles against wendy although she’s sure their mics had no problem picking that up.

“you picked up your freestyle really well,” sunmi said with a smile as jungwoo finished what sunmi promised to be his last full run of the dance for her satisfaction. “you know you’re going to do phenomenal at the live show, right?”

perhaps it was the approach of the end of this hellish nightmare for them that was making her feel more sentimental than not. even if her demeanor is sometimes stand offish, she opens up well with most, if not all of them. perhaps it was more than just different for jungwoo in particular considering their complex relationship took quite a bit of time to reach where it is now: a point where they could consider each other friends.

the younger boy turns to her, the confusion clear on his face. “noona are you feeling okay?” sunmi rolls her eyes, playfully (and lightly) smacking at his arm. he still blinks at her like he wasn’t sure she was being truthful. sunmi chooses to ignore his expression (and stomps down the urge to call him out on it). instead she adjusts his gold vest so it was straightened and fixes his hair so it’s more orderly. “i’m perfectly fine, jungwoo. i’m just really proud of you okay?”

when she pulls back to look at the younger she’s surprised to see tears in his eyes. if she said something wrong she wasn’t expecting tears. annoyance, maybe but not anything worth crying over. sunmi sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “god, why are you crying right now?”

"i’m just tired you made me do this dance like five times in a row!” he whined defensively. sunmi knew better.

she lightly flicks his forehead. “idiot. go wipe your face. there’s no need to cry.”

in a feeble attempt to do what she says he wipes his eyes with his sweater sleeve but his face is still pink and tears are still forming. she shakes her head, moving closer to wipe his tears herself. “i’m tired too but you’re doing great,” she says with a smile, knowing it probably did nothing but provoke even more tears from the younger. he looks ready to complain again and she laughs, pulling him to a hug. “you need to stop teasing me, noona,” he says petulantly although he hugs her back. she pats his head. “yeah but no one can tease you as well as i can.”

the day of the live concert came far too quickly. there was the pre-performance jitters as always. they always mildly plagued the elder but it was never something so incredible that she inhibited her from actually doing the performance. she was happy that the first performance of the night was dancing. hyun bin could slander her skills all he wanted but at least the live audience would be impressed with her dancing (and maybe her performance in the group too) before their ceo trashes her once again in front of thousands of people.

live.

she tried not to be bitter that day. she couldn’t let her negative emotions overwhelm her. just a couple more hours from now and this would be all over. she needed to make it through the end. if she could just do it without breaking down completely she would consider it a success.

getting ready probably took a lot longer than she anticipated. in the salon chair, sunmi was just about ready to fall asleep in the chair. thankfully between performances she wasn’t going to get much done to her hair and makeup. she would be groggy from the mini naps if that were the case.

in the very least she was wide awake because of the electricity in the air. nerves, excitement. everyone seemed pumped. it kept sunmi awake (after her hair was done). maybe the nerves overrode the excitement that their trials were coming to an end. they still didn’t know what they were competing for. they know who was doing best for the boys and girls however they didn’t know the overall ranking. where did both genders stand in one ranking? were the boys doing better than the girls? who was the best overall trainee of them?

sunmi had a feeling they were going to learn this after their performances were over.

“we’re almost done,” she tells hyuna as they’re getting their makeup done. when the artist goes to grab a different brush sunmi takes the opportunity to turn to her. “are you nervous or are you excited?” everyone seems to be a blend of both though for the danger zone people - now finally without their red vests - it was a conflicting feeling.

sunmi has a feeling that by the end of this, she’s still going to be ranked low. she feels it. it’s like inevitability. it was the only thing she’s heard since coming to nova. criticisms. it was never that she was good enough or praised. she wasn’t rewarded like she was in sphere. it wasn’t the same. she was fully prepared for hyun bin to tell her she stays in her danger zone position and she’s out of the running to debut. the old man thinks he’s being dramatic or cute by doing such a thing. it would only make him an idiot for benching a veteran trainee. one that he’d surely lose after this, at that.

sunmi doesn’t voice this to hyuna, however. she lets the cynical thoughts circle in her mind. the thoughts that left her (apologetically) distracted that she didn’t get hyuna’s answer. instead she reaches across their makeup chairs to grab her hand and squeeze it. “ash,” she starts in english, “no matter what happens...” she finishes in korean, “you did so amazingly well. you made it to the end. that’s something to be proud of, okay? it’s an accomplishment.” if hyuna loses, it wouldn’t feel like much of an accomplishment because she wasn’t debuting. sunmi wouldn’t fault her if she ultimately felt that way. but she knows that it’s what a lot of them need right now: being told that they did well. if hyun bin wasn’t going to be that person then so be it.

sunmi was fine with standing in and doing just that.

they were ready to go up for the “intro” of the concert so to speak. they had practised this specific routine for the last two weeks. sunmi hoped this all served them well and that hopefully the order does them some good. suddenly sunmi thinks they should have considered dancing skill comparison when choosing the order so nobody gets upstaged but it’s too late the back track now.

sunmi has her pinky looped around wendy’s as they stand off waiting for the cue to go on stage. the urge of softness and kindness hasn’t left her all month, especially when she seems so set on her next move should this end badly. it was best to get all the kindness out now before sunmi (inevitably) turns sour from this experience.

“you know, wen, i am so proud of you,” she tells the younger in english. a number of the nova girls spoke english as well so it wasn’t like she was attempting to disguise her conversation. it just felt more natural between them to speak in the language they both shared. she looked down at wendy, who was looking back up at her with wide eyes. “i am. you really pulled yourself together. you’re going to kill it today, you understand? you’re going to do amazing and i couldn’t be prouder. i love you a lot.”

there was something about telling people things that they don’t believe themselves: they cry. they’re not prepared for people to tell them that because it’s been so long since they heard an affirmation like that that they stopped believing. jungwoo cried, hyuna cried and now wendy had tears threatening to spill as well. sunmi was quick to reach for a napkin to dab at the tears. wendy laughed despite her tears.

“you know, sunmi unnie, the last person to tell me that was my mum.” sunmi paused, looking at wendy. “on our last phone call together. that’s what she told me too.” sunmi felt her heart twist. of course she wasn’t anyones real mother in nova. some “kids” only were a year younger than her. in hyuna and solji’s case they were the same age as sunmi so it wasn’t like she was their mother either. but to the younger ones; the ones with a clear age gap between them like sunmi and wendy’s 5 years, sunmi was a parental figure away from home. haknyeon has said it multiple times (even going as far as to openly call her ‘mom’ several times), ricky at one point had commented it as well.

sunmi didn’t want kids. she’s not sure that stance will ever change. (it’s not like she can have them anyways, while dating jinkyung.) but even if she ever changed her mind she already has so many with the people in nova. it was enough for her.

sunmi never thought that nova would amount to sphere. she was right. by company standards, nova will never mean to her what sphere did. but the people? the people are just as much family as the old sphere trainees were. the nova trainees were her favourite and only pro to being in nova. they’re the reason she stays time and time again. maybe it’s time to let the birds leave the nest. or, rather, for the mama to.

sunmi doesn’t think about it for the rest of the night.

she dances her ass off. she was being serious when she said that dances made for girl groups were always lack lustre and boring to watch. they were meant to show how sexy and pretty the girls were as if that’s all they were capable of doing. sunmi not only kicked down that stereo type but she choke slammed it with her tough popping centre dance.

screw girls only being sexy for their freestyles while boys get to be impressive. it wasn’t cool nor fair and sunmi wasn’t about to play into the agenda of being just eye candy when debut was at stake. she wasn’t sure if they were going to catch her pop up jump at the very end but god she’d be so angry if it doesn’t make it into the episode cut. it was the best part. sometimes camera work was notorious for being extraordinarily shitty. she didn’t suffer with bruised legs for them to not catch it.

truthfully sunmi wasn’t a fan of either song. though they were clearly supposed to represent 2 different vibes they were ultimately the same. although omona was more overtly feel good and cute, it still had these elements of maturity and sensuality that made the slow-paced song just a bit odd for sunmi. while hush was clearly supposed to be more sexy (at least that’s what parts of the choreography suggested) but there were parts that were just....cute. or was it the way the girls sang it that it sounded very cutesy to sunmi’s ears?

she tried not to be pessimistic especially when she felt like the boys were going to have something more energetic and diverse in sound that the girls were going to pale in comparison. it wouldn’t be fair in the end because these were songs they were handed but at least it would confirm to sunmi that the girls were always set up to fail in lieu of the boys taking centre of the entire project itself. it only left her to be annoyed as to why hyun bin would do all this but she couldn’t get ahead of herself. they had two original songs to perform. so for just about 8 minutes, sunmi would have to put on a mask and perform as if she’s all-in with the song. idols did it all the time. she can do it for her final live performances of the super nova project at the very least.

sunmi felt antsy.

she was glad to get their final performance out of the way but now this meant for their coaches and ceo to deliberate live in real time and deliver the results. there wasn’t any doubt that hyun bin was going to drag this on for suspense but sunmi was really ready to get this over with.

she kept saying this. maybe if she convinced herself enough that she wanted this over with she’d be less disappointed when it actually was. the mantra kept playing over and over in her head. sunmi even had a bit of trouble staying still in her spot. her bed was so close yet so far. she needed to know the nightmare was over.

then finally they got ready to start. this was it. it was time. sunmi figures it’ll take just about ten or fifteen minutes for the final results and explanations to come out. then, after that they will be free to go. free to collect their phones and free to pack he hell up and sleep. she was ready she was so ready for it.

the minute the nova ceo got ready to speak, sunmi felt her stomach drop. maybe she was bullshitting herself. because in that moment, seeing the microphone in his hand she realised: sunmi wasn’t ready to hear the final fate of her career. this was her last shot and his words had more weight than even he realised.

a part of her wasn’t ready for this to be the end.

#solo #nova:sn #nova:snmonth3 #nova.chronicles #mentioned:#soljirk #rkwendy #rkhuidong #rkkaeun #jungwoork #hyunark #(( absolute fucking goliath of a final fucking solo to this god forsaken project ))#(( have fun reading this bianca ))#word count: 3674 #< excluding title and links ofc

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aesjae · 7 years

Text

Without Me | Mark

A/N: Hi! Thank you for the request, and I apologise for taking so long to do it. I didn’t really write about the ‘start catching on’ part, but I hope you will enjoy it!

Word Count: 1,785 Style/ Genre: Scenario/ Angst Date posted: 14/08/17

Everything happens for a reason, and he didn't intend to break your heart.

But everything happens for a reason, and he did it for a reason, and he knew it had to be done.

"Oppa, do you want me to come over and bring you lunch? You haven't been eating much..." You spoke into your phone worriedly, as you voiced your concern to your boyfriend, Mark. Mark was in a kpop boy group named NCT, and being the only member out of the 15 so far to be in all 3 sub units, Mark's schedule was really tight, especially more so that NCT DREAM was making a comeback.

"No, it's fine (Y/N). I'll just grab something light later," Mark replied shortly. You frowned, your handphone still pressed against your ear. These days, Mark had changed quite a bit. Even though they were subtle differences, being the sensitive girlfriend you were, you worried excessively over these small differences. Usually, Mark would answer you in sweet sentences, but nowadays, his replies were usually short, cold and direct. It felt like there was an invisible wall forming between the two of you now.

"Uh- Okay then, take care and don't overwork yourself okay?"

"Yea. I need to get back to work-- I'm hanging out now." Almost immediately, Mark ended the call. You felt a pang in your heart. What had gone wrong between the two of you that you weren't aware of?

You looked at the clock in your house.

7pm.

The only thought that surfaced in your mind was Mark. Had he eaten? Is he still working? Is he tired?

Since it was your day off, you decided to go to the company building and surprise Mark by bringing him dinner. He must just be feeling tired nowadays, I should go and cheer him up.

You belonged to a kpop girl group called ST*R, which was also under SM entertainment. Your group had debuted recently earlier this year, and after hectic promotions, the company decided to give your group a day off to rest. All of the other members had their own schedules, and since Mark was busy with comeback preparation, it only left you with the choice to go back to your own empty house.

Suddenly, it occurred to you that one of your members, Sooha, was participating in the next SM Station release, and was hence also at the SM recording studio. You texted her.

You: Sooha unnie! I’m heading to the company building for a while, and I know you’re busy recording for your song, so do you want me to bring some food for you? :)

Sooha: Oh that’s sweet of you (Y/N)-ah! But I have already eaten. Thank you for your concern :D

Reading Sooha’s reply, you shrugged and started preparing a simple handmade bento for Mark.

Looking at the simple yet pretty bento you made, you smiled in satisfaction, imaging in your brain how surprised Mark would be when you came to his recording studio, and with his favourite bento made by you brought to him. You giggled. You loved Mark so much.

The company building was only a 10-minute drive away from your house, and hence by the time you arrived at the building, it was 8 pm.

You headed up to the 5th level, where you knew Mark would be in his recording studio alone going through the songs to be released. You giggled again as you skipped towards your destination, bag containing the bento in your hands.

Arriving in front of the door to Mark’s recording studio, you halted in your tracks. There were sounds inside, and no, not just Mark’s voice, it was a mix of a few different voices. A chill ran down from your neck to your tailbone. You didn’t like the feeling of this. However, you didn’t let this damp your excitement to surprise Mark, and you kept your smile on.

“Mark opp-”

You dropped your bag.

The container opened and the food spilt.

Instantly, tears formed in your eyes, clouding your vision, but there was no doubt with the scene in front of you.

Sooha was on top of Mark, who was in a big office chair, her leaning her weight on Mark’s thighs. You watched wide-eyed as both of them devoured each other’s faces hungrily as if two hungry animals satisfying their hunger through the kisses.

So was this what Sooha meant by ‘I’ve already eaten’?

Suddenly a memory resurfaced in your mind.

“Oppa, until when do we have to keep our relationship a secret?”

“Uhm, for quite a while I guess. You just debuted, and I’m still relatively considered a rookie in the industry. We can’t let people know about our relationship yet. Wait for a bit more okay~?” Mark pinched your nose, causing you to giggle and nod to his words.

You scoffed loudly. Startled by the sound of the container dropping on the floor, Mark and Sooha released their catchment on each other’s faces and looked towards your direction. What broke your heart even more, was that none of them showed any signs of remorse in their expressions. Sooha looked with an eyebrow slightly raised and a small smirk on her face, whereas for Mark, he merely looked at you with a bored expression.

The both of them stayed silent, quietly looking at you sob by the doorway.

Finally, you spoke.

“Was this the reason why you didn’t want our relationship to be revealed yet? Because you were having an affair with my group member, and you didn’t want to appear scandalous?” You remarked incredulously. You turned to Sooha. “And you, out of everybody, betrayed me? I thought I had trusted the right person, Sooha. When everybody didn’t believe in me, you were there beside me. Tell me Sooha, tell me what I’ve just seen was just all an illusion.”

Instead, Sooha laughed.

She laughed.

“Oh (Y/N), aren’t you such a fool. You’re not in a dream right now, little girl. Wake up, and witness the cruelty of this world, stop being the naive innocent princess you are.” Sooha’s words were filled with spite.

You couldn’t believe your ears. This is all a lie, a lie.

You turned to glance at Mark, looking at him pleadingly, silently pleading to him to just put you in his arms, and tell you that you're just experiencing a bad dream and that you would soon wake up to Mark being the sweet, loving boyfriend again.

But I guess life was just a lie itself.

“Stop making a fool out of yourself, (Y/N). Save the last of your dignity and get out. Stop disturbing us.” Mark said crudely, not even sparing another glance at you as he grabbed Sooha’s faced and kissed her roughly.

This was not Mark. This was not the Mark I knew. This was not the Mark I loved. But it is.

With your glass heart shattering into pieces, you ran out of the recording studio, not even bothering to look back or exerting effort to close the door of the studio. You let the streams of tears run down your face, running away from the recording studio, running away from Sooha, running away from Mark.

You knew you couldn’t do it. You knew you could not go back to the company and see Sooha and Mark with a straight face anymore. You had loved Mark more than anything, and you had put immense trust in Sooha. Both of your relationship and friendship had been broken, and as you felt yourself being torn apart, how could you go back to the company and act like nothing had happened?

After negotiation with the CEO, you decided to leave ST*R, and to leave SM. You decided to state the reason for your departure as personal reasons, and you kept the truth locked in your heart, away from the speculations of media, away from the speculations of the other ST*R group members, away from the speculations of your fans.

They knew nothing, you thought.

But what you didn’t know, was that part of truth you that was kept hidden from you.

2 years later, you stood on the front of the stage of Music Bank, smiling widely at your fans as you held onto your trophy, thanking your fans profusely for first place.

You turned and turned, making sure to properly thank every fan that was at the venue.

Then you made eye contact with a certain person. He smiled bittersweetly at you, the smile not reaching his eyes as his facial expression held tinges of nostalgia and melancholy. You no longer felt the pang of pain through your heart that you felt from 2 years ago, and you smiled brightly at him, bowing slightly to the fellow idol, before turning around to your boyfriend of a year, who was another kpop idol, and hugging him tightly happily.

Mark watched as you enjoyed your moments with your boyfriend, sadness overwhelming his heart. He had missed you. He did not regret what he did, but he had loved you.

Watching you leave, Sooha released herself from Mark’s deep kiss, slightly wiping her mouth, as she looked longingly at the open studio door, and at the container of spilt food on the floor.

“Why, Mark? I knew you loved (Y/N), so why? She was my best friend, and you were her boyfriend, what was the reason that you had to take things to this extent?” Sooha turned her head back to Mark, who had the same expression as Sooha on his face, droplets of tears already falling from his eyes.

“It’s all for her own good. She doesn’t deserve me, and she definitely didn’t deserve this.” Mark mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“My family. They hate (Y/N), I don’t know why, but they threatened me. They threatened to ruin (Y/N), and I knew that they had the means to. I don’t want (Y/N) to get hurt because of me. This is all for her.”

“Oh, Mark... What’s done is done. You let her go for her good and her own happiness. I don’t agree with your decision to do this, but you loved her with all your heart, and that, I cannot fault you.” Sooha took Mark into her arms gently, while Mark sobbed hysterically into Sooha’s shoulder.

He had loved you.

‘Please live happily without me, (Y/N).’

2 years later, watching you smile with pure happiness in your eyes and smile, Mark had no regrets. He let you go in hopes that you would be safe and happy, and you were.

He had loved you, and he had no regrets letting you go, even if it meant for you to live happily without him.

Man sorry I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE MARK’S FAMILY SEEM MEAN, im pretty sure they are fantastic people, but i couldn’t come up with any reason at the moment.

MARK AND HIS FAMILY, I LOVE YOU OKAY

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