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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Stars in the Night Sky

Day 3, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Stars in the Night Sky

Author: adenei

Pairing: Jily (James Potter x Lily Evans)

Prompt: Stargazing

Rating: PG

TW: None :)

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The castle is peaceful as it nears midnight, a calm surrender to the usual bustling halls during the day. Rounds ended over an hour ago, but the quick pair of footsteps was not rushing through a late shift, they were on their way to the Astronomy Tower to meet their partner and begin Professor Sinistra’s constellation project.

Allocation of the work was all in the luck of the draw. Where one half of the class drew a name, and the other pulled the astronomical phenomenon they were to study. Lily Evans had pulled the piece of parchment on stars and constellations, and according to the project’s outline, she and her partner would be tracking Orion, Cassiopeia, Gemini, and Canis Major for the next two weeks.

The project left Lily questioning why she chose to pursue the subject after passing her O.W.L.s. Maybe it was because she has always been fascinated by the subject, or maybe it’s for the sole fact that Astronomy is one of the subjects she can discuss with her family since it relates closely to muggle sciences. Regardless, she’s not sure it’s worth the lack of sleep she’s about to endure over the next few weeks.

As Lily climbs the steps of the Astronomy Tower, her heart thunders in her chest with anticipation about who her partner will be. The class is small, with only ten students, but she didn’t bother to hang around and discuss ‘who had who’ at the end of class. She had a meeting with Professor McGonagall about her Head Girl duties and couldn’t be bothered to worry about who her partner was.

But now, after finding out through Mary that she’s been paired with Remus and Sirius pulled Benjy Fenwick’s name, Lily is nervous. Rumblings at dinner also confirmed that Calliope Forsythe of Hufflepuff was disappointed that she chose Bridgette Marls’s name instead of James’s, leaving Lily sweating the remaining possible outcomes. She doesn’t want to jinx it by getting her hopes up that James may have pulled her name out of the cauldron, and she’s mad at herself for wanting it so desperately.

We already spend enough time together with our Head duties. Plus, we’re friends now, so we can hang out whenever we like...just not alone.

Her last thought is only a partial lie, considering they’re ‘alone’ when creating schedules for rounds, but it never fails that some fifth or sixth-year students are always barging in to use the Prefect’s lounge to study, ruining any potential chance for either to make a move. Even when they’re on rounds, their conversation is constantly interrupted by catching a couple in a broom closet or empty classroom.

Lily lets out a huff of frustration as she recalls the last time, when she was sure he was about to ask her to Hogsmeade, but then there was a loud clatter from a room up ahead, breaking the moment. So really, it’d be ideal if James were her partner for this project. She’s sick of the song and dance they’ve been playing since the start of term and wants nothing more than to find out whether he still fancies her or not. After all, it’s only a matter of time that some other girl will swoop in, causing his devilishly handsome smile to be trained on them instead.

As Lily approaches the foot of the stairs leading up to the observation room, she checks her watch. 11:59. Right on time. She holds her breath during the entire stair climb, and only when she rounds the corner to the dimly lit area with one singular candle on the table to take notes, does she see him. He’s leaning over the table, the light illuminating his messy black hair as his glasses slip down his nose. The sleeves on the white shirt of his uniform are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the sinewy muscles of his forearm as Lily stands there, getting lost in a daydream that finds those arms wrapped around her body.

The hoot of an owl in the distance snaps her out of her thoughts as she takes a few steps closer.

“I hope you haven’t started without me.”

Lily’s light chiding gets James’s attention as a wide smirk dons his face. Her insides tremble as her heart pounds faster in her chest.

“How can I get started if I don’t know what we’re supposed to be looking at,” he remarks, eliciting a nervous laugh from her chest.

“Yeah, sorry for not sticking around after class. I had another appointment.”

“Well, I hope my reveal isn’t too much of a shock.”

“Better you than Mulciber or Avery,” she teases. “Why didn’t you ask Professor Sinistra what topic I pulled after you gave your information and got our timetable?”

James walks around the table to join her as she pulls out the project guidelines. She assumes he would have known what they were studying, considering everyone had to check-in and get their schedules from Professor Sinistra. Depending on what the group has chosen, their research times varied.

“Because I thought we were going for the surprise factor,” his cheeky grin matches the lightness in his voice. “Besides, I figured it’d be another excuse to pore over the parchment in close proximity.”

Lily searches the space next to her to see just how close James is before meeting his gaze. She becomes dizzy from the scent of his cologne, with hints of cinnamon and sandalwood invading her sense of smell. If she gives in to temptation now, they won’t accomplish anything on their first night.

Work first, play later.

Strengthening her resolve, Lily makes a swift turn and heads for the telescope. “We’re responsible for tracking the four constellations that are listed on the first page. I’ll see which one I can find first and we’ll go from there. We can take turns tracing, and observing if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure, I’ll get the parchment set up,” James agrees.

Lily’s not sure, but she thinks she may have heard a hint of disappointment in his tone. She pushes the thoughts aside and peers into the massive telescope that’s bolted down in the center of the room. It doesn’t take long to find Jupiter, and from there, she’s able to see a handful of the stars that make up Orion. The belt is the most prevalent as she takes mental notes to transfer on the paper.

Settling into a steady hum of working together, the pair take turns between the telescope and table, making light work of the night’s observations. When Lily checks her watch again, she realizes they’ve finished with time to spare. She wanders over to the railing, and even though she’s spent the better part of the last ninety minutes studying the stars, she finds herself looking up to the sky once more. Only this time, she’s stargazing with only the naked eye.

She feels James approaching before he arrives at her side, gazing up at the twinkling stars among the backdrop of black and midnight blue.

“We make a pretty good team.” Her voice is soft as it carries through the air between them.

Lily’s exhaustion is prevalent as her eyelids become heavier, but she can’t be bothered to move away from James’s side. Not yet, anyways.

“You haven’t gathered that from our flawless round schedules and seamless Prefect meetings we’ve run so far as Heads?”

Lily can’t help the smile that creeps across her lips. He’s playing into her words in the exact way she was hoping for. “Of course, I’ve noticed. I was just thinking out loud…” she trails off, hoping she’s got him hooked and wanting to know what else she’s about to say.

“About what?” Barely a second passes before the question leaves his mouth.

She drags her teeth over her bottom lip as she looks up at him. Here goes nothing.

“Just about how our teamwork might work in other respects, too.”

His lips part as she hears a sharp intake of breath. “Evans,” he warns as he inches ever closer to her face.

“Potter,” she challenges right back.

They are mere centimeters away from each other now, and it’d be so easy to close the gap between them. James seems to have frozen in front of her as she finds herself leaning up on her tiptoes to press a feather-light kiss to his lips. She pulls away, not wanting to push her luck.

When he doesn’t move after she pulls away, her heart sinks. Lily grabs her bag and turns to head back to the common room. Clearly, I was mistaken.

“Sorry, I just thought—” but she never finished her apology.

Her foot grazes the top step of the staircase before a warm, strong hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back, where she hits a wall of muscle. Her lips are on his again, and this time he’s kissing her back as her arms snake around his shoulders and her foot lifts off the ground of its own accord.

James Potter is kissing me!

The moment only lasts a few moments before they pull apart, their breathing heavy under the starry night.

James breaks the silence after a minute. “So, er, Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Lily grins as she backs away slightly, leaving him standing there as she heads toward the stairs for the second time. She flashes a ‘come and get me’ look.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#submission #chudley canon fest #hp canon pairings #hp canon romantic pairings #jily #james x lily

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folkloreguk · 4 years

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Colvers Castle (M)

A/N: This one’s for the bisexual horror-obsessed girls (me)!!! Jk anyone can read this, but I had the best time EVER writing this sdfgh also I was gonna post this around Halloween but I couldn’t wait any longer so here you go!!

genre: mystery / creepy? / smut (optional bias (male) x reader (female))

warnings: a little gore (describing (fake) wounds and costumes), unprotected sex, the reader might be a little risky, mentions of murder / suicide

summary: Two girls go to a Halloween party held at an old castle. What kind of creatures will they encounter, and will they ever be the same afterward?

words: ~5.6 k

“Oh my god!! You look so good!” you whisper-yelled towards your friend who was already sitting on the bench at the bus stop. Her blood red dress sparkled and although her red knee-high boots couldn’t have been too comfortable, they sure made her look incredible. On her head sat a pair of light-up horns and silver chains and chokers adorned her neck. She grinned widely upon laying eyes on you. At first, you had planned on wearing the same outfits, but then you had opted for dressing as polar opposites. Where her horns sat, a fluffy halo seemingly floated above your head. Your dress had a similar cut, but was a simple white, satin material and your necklace had a subtle golden heart pendant just between your collar bones.

“Where’s your trident?” you asked, taking a seat next to her.

“I figured it’s not too safe to dance with an item that could potentially poke out someone’s eye,” she said. “So I left it at home.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, laughing. “Are you excited?”

“I’ve been freaking out since I got up this morning,” she said, waving her hands in the air dramatically. “A real castle? This has to be fun!”

The two of you were headed to the hottest Halloween party in your city. Usually, you weren’t the biggest fan of parties. But combined with dressing up and going to an old castle outside of the city, this party sounded like it was going to be the best night of the year.

“Finally, the bus is here,” you pointed out. When you stood in line to get on, you noticed how you and your friend weren’t going to be the only party-goers on the vehicle. But then again, there weren’t many bus lines that would bring you to the castle. You spotted a Michael Jackson boarding the bus a few people away from you, followed by a fake-blood-drenched clown. The sight only amped up your enthusiasm. Costumes had always been one of your favorite parts about Halloween. And judging by the scale of the party, you were going to have a lot to observe today. You squeezed past Dracula onto the seat next to your friend and off you went.

The ride to the castle took a while. You had to first ride through almost your whole city and then take a rather abandoned road through the countryside to the site of the party. But you got busy catching up with your friend who you hadn’t seen in a while and time passed quickly. You were in the middle of discussing which was the scariest film you had ever watched, when your eyes locked on a bright light in the otherwise dark scenery outside.

“We’re almost there!” you exclaimed, diverting your friend’s attention to the castle. You had been going through a forest, so when you suddenly exited the tree maze, the bright lit up stone walls of the castle came as an extra-pleasant surprise to you. Only a few minutes later, the voice on the bus announced the stop ‘Colvers Castle’ and soon you pulled up in front of it.

Weakly, you could remember visiting the castle with your school class when you had been a lot younger. You might had grown up since then, but nonetheless the cold, inured stone walls still impressed you. Hadn’t it been for the violet lights shining onto the side of the ancient building, the gaping gate in the battlement would have looked less than uninviting to you. Your friend squeezed your arm in happiness while you approached the entry. From somewhere, music was carried through the air and made you smile.

“Are we allowed to enter all of the castle?” you asked.

“No way! The well-preserved part and the museum will be closed off, I’m pretty sure the party is mainly focused on the inner courtyard,” your friend explained. “They wouldn’t let rowdy teenagers and drunk crazies riot inside such a precious castle.”

Just as she had finished her sentence, your eyes followed the stones in the walls up to where the purple light couldn’t reach. The turrets rose high, and the night was pitch dark. But you could have almost sworn there was a small light coming from the tiny window at the top of one of the turrets. Maybe some party guests had run off after all? There. This time there was no doubt in your mind. There was a man’s expressionless face in a window, looking out at the arriving guests.

“Hey, look up there!” you tugged your friend’s arm. Her eyes followed your finger, but when you looked at where the face had been, it was gone.

“What’s up there?” she asked. Just for a moment, you searched the rows of windows. Maybe you had accidentally lost it. But no matter where your eyes went, all you saw was darkness inside the castle. You mumbled a ‘nevermind’ to your friend and quickly wiped the thought off your brain. This was a Halloween party, and you were ready for it. Along with the familiar faces from the bus ride, the massive gate swallowed you up into the courtyard of the castle.

It was obvious that the major action of the party was going on here. The all-too well known ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson was playing from the speakers and you grinned at the young man dressed as the famous singer, who you had already seen on the bus, for a moment.

Party guests were yelling in excitement and singing along, all whilst dancing in a sea of people right in front of you. The main grass area had been transformed into a dance floor. Immediately, your friend pulled you along and into the crowd. In the blink of an eye, the buzz and energy from everyone around you sprung onto you as well, and before you knew it you were moving along to the music. Whoever had managed to throw this event really had an eye for choosing a great venue. Usually, there was something magical and peaceful about the castle. Tonight, however, dunked in red and purple lights and occupied by hundreds of young souls, it made for the perfect backdrop of a legendary Halloween party.

“Welcome to everyone who just got off the bus to join us!” a voice shouted through the speakers, just before the next song started. Your eyes scanned your surroundings. Quickly you had spotted the DJ stand, where a young woman and a man were providing the guests with music. They were wearing matching zombie makeup and outfits and the crowd cheered at their words, an infectious excitement that caught on to you right away.

Time moved differently on a dance floor. Bodies pushed against you, always keeping you moving along. The beat of the music seeped through your skin and into your muscles, almost as if it was your new energy source. It was hard for you to remember how many songs had played since you had arrived. Had it been fifteen minutes or an hour? You could barely hear over the volume intensity, but then again, you didn’t need to. There was no need to talk to your friend right now, who was moving to the rhythm with her hands in the air, grinning at you.

That’s when a figure in a pirate costume pushed themselves between you and her, apparently having taken a liking in your devil-friend. Lazily, she put her arms on the pirate’s shoulders, inviting him to dance with her. You weren’t upset, though. All you wanted was to have fun, and you wished her the same. A girl in a witch costume replaced your friend, and although you had never met her before, there was something about dancing together that made you feel closer to her than you felt to some people you saw every other day. Her hands were on your waist and you shared a moment with your faces close to each other. It was harmless flirting through gazes without either making another move, drawing a smile on your face.

But as soon as she had appeared, she was moving on to the next person. She granted you another toothy smile, like she didn’t have a care in the world, before turning to a vampire girl. You scanned your immediate proximity to check if your friend was anywhere in sight. When you spun around, you spotted the red fabric her dress was similar to, so you squeezed through a few people to get to her. But as you tapped her shoulder and she turned her head it wasn’t your friend. This girl had fake blood smeared across her cheek and looked nowhere like a devil.

Thinking you might have better luck with observing the crowd from an outward perspective, you wriggled yourself through bodies until you reached the edge of the dance area. To your left was a sign saying ‘game zone’. Intrigued, you entertained yourself for a minute by watching a boy dunk his head under water whilst bobbing for apples in a barrel. As soon as you would find your friend, you were planning on convincing her to take a shot at some games. But for now, you needed something to drink. Although you were outside, your cheeks still felt warm and your throat was a little dry from the cheering.

So you opted to walk the other way, pursuing the direction of the ‘bar’ sign. As soon as you had located a free seat, you strutted towards the chair. The bartenders were all wearing superheroes’ costumes and you admired the decorations, ranging from pumpkin heads and little ghosts to spider webs, they had put up.

“Can I get you anything?” cat woman asked you. She gave you a grin as she remembered your face. She had once gone to the same school as you. You quickly ordered before spinning around to get a good look at the dancing crowd. The bar was up on a slight hill, so you were seated at a higher level than the dancers. But the darkness made it challenging for you to accurately spot faces and combined with the way everyone was moving, you quickly gave up on your plan of finding your friend this way. Maybe if you waited a while, she would show up by the bar herself.

“Here’s your drink,” you heard a voice from behind you. When you turned your head, the bartender was placing a glass in front of the young woman next to you. She was dressed like a princess, but her face looked nothing like a fancy noble woman. Her eyes were blood shot and two single lines of blood ran down her white-powdered cheeks.

“I believe this is yours,” she said, sliding the drink over to you. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Thank you,” you said, checking the liquid. She was right. The bartender must have gotten you mixed up. “I like your hair, it’s beautifully done.”

She smiled at your compliment. Then she pushed your glass a little closer towards you and bent over to your ear. “Be careful of your drink. Men like to take advantage of women.”

“I won’t let it out of my sight, don’t worry,” you thanked her whilst smiling. Her expression had been dead serious, almost making you feel uneasy. But when she saw the way you smiled, her features softened. Her mouth that had tiny red lips drawn onto them curled into a beautiful, but kind of sad smile.

As you both turned to yourselves again, you decided to appreciate your favorite part about Halloween – the costumes – for a while. The classics were present: Vampires, killer clowns, zombies and the latest horror movie villains. A wildly dancing group of teenagers all disguised in robes from the Hogwarts -houses made you chuckle. And as always, there was a fair share of people who were wearing undefinable costumes that mainly consisted of random fake wounds or fake blood on their faces and clothing but didn’t impress you all that much. And lastly, there were the lazy ones, who settled for hiding their face behind a cheap mask, so they at least appeared to have made an effort.

For a moment, you dug for your phone and checked if your friend might have texted you. But there were no notifications. You quickly typed a text “where are u?” and let your phone disappear in your small bag. Whilst waiting if she would reply, you decided to take a trip to the toilets. As you walked there, you made more costume observations. To your left, next to the bar, a stone wall ran all the way around the courtyard. Party guests were using it as a seating accommodation, as it was a nice way to overlook the whole atmosphere. A realistic looking version of the nun from the Conjuring-movies sitting on the wall impressed you quite a bit. Next to her, a couple was seated. You couldn’t quite figure out what their outfits were supposed to portray, but they surely weren’t modern day clothes. You admired the makeup they had put on their necks. It looked as if they had slashed throats.

After you had arrived at the bathrooms and finished your business, you checked your texts one more time – but still nothing came from it. You were sure she was simply having too much fun to check her phone. As you walked down the hallway to the exit back into the courtyard, you spotted a young man standing at the end of it. Behind him was a ‘no entry’ sign, that had been temporarily installed to keep party-goers out of the castle. The young man was wearing a white button up shirt and pants that made him look a little like a Disney prince – had it not been for the fake blood that soaked the fabric on his chest, which made him appear more like Dracula. He smiled at you shyly, before turning and walking further down the closed off hallway.

“I don’t think people are supposed to go there,” you spoke, glad that you didn’t need to raise your voice as much because the music was drowned out by the thick castle walls.

“No one’s here to stop me,” he said, before climbing over the fence. “Will you join me for some fun?”

You didn’t think you’d find your friend any time soon, and if she was going to run off with some random pirate stranger, maybe you should too? The vampire prince sure was handsome. Carefully, you walked closer to the fence.

“I’m sure those doors are locked,” you said, watching as he approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he smirked, and next thing you knew he was opening the door that said ‘staff only’ on it. “Care for a free castle tour?”

“How do I know you’re not a creep?” you asked.

“How do I know you’re not a creep?” he replied, laughing. “I’m just bored of having so many people around, alright? If you don’t come with me, I’ll go by myself.”

Your curiosity took over. And maybe he had a charm about him – a sly smirk, a few buttons on his shirt undone or maybe it was his voice that sounded like honey.

“Fine,” you hurried over the fence and squeezed yourself through the opening in the door after him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I plan on not letting you forget me,” he said. “But there’ll be no regrets.”

His words were vague, and there was a strange feeling about him, but you simply couldn’t put your finger on it. You looked around. The only light falling into the hallway came from the party outside. This part of the castle seemed to belong to the museum, but the further you followed him through the corridors, the rougher the stone walls seemed.

“You want to see a nice view?” he asked, and of course you did. So, you took the stairs up to a higher level. The rooms here had neither doors nor glass windows and generally didn’t seem to have been restored like the part of the castle that was open to the public.

“Are you real?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. “Real?”

“A real angel?” he asked. He was walking ahead of you, so you couldn’t check his face for whether he was joking or waiting to attempt a silly pick up line.

“I’m a human being, just like you,” you said.

“You sure do look like an angel,” he said. The sincerity in his voice surprised you. This guy had a strange way of flirting, but you preferred it over the gross sexual remarks other men considered to be flirting.

“Thank you. And what are you tonight?” you asked. You took a look outside into the courtyard. The scene looked breathtaking from above, and this way you could appreciate the immortal beauty of the castle even better.

“I’m the ruler of this house,” he said, smiling. He was coming closer to you now, and you smirked.

“Oh, a prince?” you asked, returning his smile. “If an angel let someone touch her, I think it would have to be a prince.”

“You’re bold,” he said, but he was grinning. “Suddenly I’m glad they are hosting a damn party here on Halloween. So, would you let me touch you?”

“Please,” you said. His eyes were dark and suddenly filled with lust. When his lips first smashed against yours, they felt a little cold, but the moment your tongue swept over his bottom lip and he parted his mouth, his hot tongue met yours. You felt like he had set you on fire in the best way possible. It had been a while since someone had made you so horny in such a short time. Within seconds your hands were in his hair, tugging softly, and his hands wandered from your neck to the front of your dress. Your back arched against his touch eagerly as he squeezed your boobs through your bra.

You didn’t feel in the mood for long foreplay, and luckily it seemed he thought the same. He grabbed your ass, pushing you against him so you would feel his growing bulge. A moan slipped past your lips and you felt like covering your mouth.

“No one hears us here, don’t worry,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ve just never done it in such a…public setting,” you said. Although you doubted anyone else even knew they could enter the castle this easily. Hungrily, you kissed him again and pulled him towards you with such urge that you stumbled backwards a few steps. Your back touched the wall, sending shivers down your spine from the cold of the stone. Teasingly, he lifted the hem of your dress to the top of your thighs, his fingers playing with the suspenders of your garter.

“You like my lingerie?” you asked.

“Hmm…but I think I’ll like what’s underneath more,” he said, fingers ghosting over your center. Impulsively, your eyes closed at even such a tiny touch.

“Then please hurry up,” you urged him, and he chuckled. Swiftly, he pulled aside your underwear and slid one of his fingers between your soaking folds. You sucked in a breath and leaned your head against the wall behind you. On instinct, your hips moved against his hand for more friction. He added another finger, toying with your clit in rapid movements. How did your legs already feel like jelly? You held onto him for support while his free hand pulled you flush against him. When he pushed his digits past your entrance, you hummed in agreement. Expertly, he curled them inside of you, using his thumb on your clit.

“Am I supposed to find angels sexy?” he asked, gaining your attention.

“Yes,” you replied. “And I hope they give you a boner because I want you to fuck me.”

At the same time, you ran your hands down his sides and to his hips to the visible tent in his pants. He grunted when you palmed him through the material and probably also at your words from a few seconds ago. Finally, he removed his hands from between your legs, but you weren’t upset because you knew there was more to come.

“If you turn around, you can have what you want,” he said. More than willingly, you did as he said. When you turned your head, you watched him unzip his pants just enough so he could pull down his underwear and expose his hard length. You placed your palms flat against the wall and arched your back a little. When he slowly pulled up your dress to rest the silky material around your waist, you whimpered in impatience. He knew what he was doing, and he loved hearing you as you quietly asked him to speed things up. You felt the sudden urge to press your legs together as he pulled down your underwear, just slightly so it stayed around your thighs and wouldn’t fall on the dirty ground.

He hissed a little when he let the tip of his cock run over your center, your wetness covering him. For a few seconds he teased you, drawing out more of your whines. But the teasing only made it feel more rewarding when he eventually entered you. He filled you up all the way, then slowly pulled out almost fully, only to pull your hips against him and quickly thrust into you again. With time, he picked up a steady pace, hips slapping against your ass with every movement. You rested your head against the wall, feeling the rough material against your cheek, but you couldn’t have minded less.

There was something so intimate about hearing someone moan. And it felt especially intimate when it was a person you had just encountered. You realized you hadn’t even bothered asking for his name, but you were confident you would never forget him and the way he felt inside of you. When you’d think back to this, you’d remember his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you against him with ever thrust, and the way your moans mixed with the noise of the party in the background. People were cheering and singing while a famous song was blasting through the speakers, but really all you heard were your own whimpers of pleasure.

The air was cool on your bare skin, giving you goosebumps. Simultaneously, you felt hot all over, every of his touches seemingly leaving a trace of fire wherever he laid his hands on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment when you felt his fingers between your legs.

“I’m so close already,” you said, his new actions only adding to the sensation. He drew random shapes onto your center, clouding your mind with the need to just let go and let your orgasm wash over you. He groaned when you clenched around him, and from the way his thrusts quickened and seemed a lot less controlled, you could tell he was almost there too. His curse words and your moans went well together, and before you knew it you felt him twitch inside of you. His liquid spilled out of your core as he pulled out. He breathed heavily but didn’t stop his touching on your clit.

Your thighs trembled when he rubbed faster, pulling your body close to him. You could feel his breath on the side of your neck, only making you feel dizzier. It could have been the drink from earlier, but you were almost convinced it was him who was making you feel as if you were drunk. Your whimpers sounded longer and more dragged out now, and right before you came, they silenced completely. He didn’t stop while your body arched and shook because of his perfect fingers on you. Tightly, your eyes shut and you clenched your hands to fists. When you felt your knees become especially weak from sensitivity you softly tugged on his wrist, signaling him to stop.

Letting out a sigh of both happiness and exhaustion, you spun around. You blinked at him tiredly and smiled. Your head rested against the wall as you watched him pull his pants back up, so you did the same.

“You were amazing,” you said.

“So were you,” he replied, tilting his head a little when he grinned at you. Meanwhile, you picked your bag off the ground. Just as you did so, you felt a vibration coming from inside. Quickly, you checked your phone. “I’m waiting by the bar”, your friend had finally texted you.

“Do you want to come join me and my friend at the party? I lost her earlier so I should really go and see her now,” you asked the handsome stranger in front of you.

“Oh, no thanks. I’d rather stay here for a while longer,” he declined.

“Alright, whatever you like. Maybe I’ll see you again later?” you said.

“That would be nice,” he smirked. “Do you remember the way out?”

You hummed a yes and said your goodbyes to each other. The empty castle hallways were a lot creepier when you walked them by yourself. You imagined how it must have been back then, walking down this corridor. The light of a candle would have made your shadow dance menacingly on the unwelcoming, cold walls and the sound of your footsteps would have been heard even from far away. But the uneasy atmosphere only lasted until you had reached the familiar door. When you opened it, reality engulfed you again.

Your walk to the bar was hasty, since you hadn’t replied to your friend and you didn’t want her to think you wouldn’t show up. The party was just as energetic as before. You even had the feeling that more people had showed up since you left it a while ago. When you neared the seats, you spotted your friend instantly, this time being sure you weren’t mistaken.

“Where were you?” you asked, slinging your arm around her shoulder and grinning from cheek to cheek.

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, giving you a sly look. “Look at you. Your hair and lipstick’s all messed up.”

You chuckled as she ruffled your hair and put your halo back in place.

“Okay, I’ll go first. I met this guy,” you said. She raised her eyebrows as if she was surprised, but you knew she wasn’t. “We might have sneaked off into the castle.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t!” she almost yelled over the music. “I want every detail tomorrow.”

“Alright, granted. What about you?” you asked. “Was the pirate a good kisser?”

She only laughed and nodded her head yes.

“I saw they had a game area over there,” she pointed out.

“Let’s go, and then you can tell me more about that guy,” you said, pulling her along with you. Happily, you sang along to the song that was playing. You couldn’t wait for the rest of the night. Although neither of you tried your luck in apple bobbing, your precious makeup having been too much work to destroy it this way, you found a bunch of other games to participate in. You made temporary friends with a bunch of drunk girls who were all trying to win the main prize in a game but were simply too intoxicated to knock down some cans with balls. So you and your friend helped them out, to which they seemed to have crowned you their new group members. You danced some more, and time passed way too fast for your liking.

By the time you stepped back onto the bus that would bring you home, it was hard for you to say goodbye to the castle. So, this was Halloween for another year. The party mood hadn’t died down, even on the bus ride home, because it was filled with guests. When you watched the castle become smaller, you noticed the heavy fog that seemed to have appeared from nowhere all of a sudden. It engulfed the ancient building into a cloud of white smoke, the further the bus distanced itself from it. As you entered the woods, the only thing left to be visible were the eerie purple lights shining through the fog.

Tiredness came over you when you finally stepped off the bus at your stop. It was a short walk home and you promised to call your friend first thing in the morning before you said your goodbyes. You could already spot your home when you thought back to the stranger from the castle. He had called himself the ruler of the house. His handsome features and smile were livid in your head, even when you silently entered your room and took off your shoes. As you changed into your sleepwear and got ready for bed, you noticed the forming bruises on your hips, but they only made you grin to yourself.

Yawning, you fell into bed, but not before checking if your friend had texted you. Got home safely, goodnight x, she had sent. You quickly replied to let her know you were at home as well and went to switch off your phone. But then curiosity suddenly came over you. With rapid clicks, you searched for the castle’s museum’s website on the internet. Maybe you could find out who had really lived there, hundreds of years ago.

You clicked the ‘history’ button and began to scan the texts, even though your eyelids felt heavier with each second.

King Walter III and Queen Alice ruled the castle. Their two sons Hugh and Henry and their daughter Beatrice grew up happily in the castle. But starting from year 1568, the lives of the noble family took a drastic downfall. Henry, the younger of the two brothers, had always felt jealousy over his older brother Hugh, who would one day inherit the throne from their father. His greed and envy drove him to great lengths, until one day, Henry took out his anger on his brother directly. He stabbed Hugh in his sleep, in rage so blind that even his father could barely stop him when he fell witness to the dire scene. Distraught and outraged by this event, the older brother was locked away in a tower, threatened to never see another face ever again in punishment for his crime. But the unfortunate events didn’t end there. Princess Beatrice had fallen for a Lord from another kingdom, who took it upon himself to take what she had from her. In their wedding night, he was said to have poisoned her drink. She went to bed and never awoke to see the next day. There is only so much parents can take in one year. So, in utter devastation, the king and the queen made a decision together. After having their favorite red wine and watching their last sunset together, they committed suicide by cutting open their throats and died sad, but together. Prince Henry was said to have been forgotten, locked up in his tower all alone, facing a lonely and slow death on his own. Some say they can still hear the voices of the royal family in the castle halls at night, and if you look close enough, you might find their ghosts haunting the castle to this day. Why don’t you come visit us and find out for yourself?

You shivered and felt a little uneasy at the way the museum was advertising something so horrible. But when you scrolled down the page just a little further, what you saw knocked out the breath from your lungs. It was a picture, an old painting to be exact, of the family. And there he was. The prince was staring at you blankly, and you felt tears well up in your eyes in disbelief. It was the stranger who had taken you into the castle. You thought back to his blood drenched shirt. As if he had been stabbed. You shook your head no when your eyes fell on the rest of the family. You recounted Princess Beatrice from where she had been sitting by the bar next to you, telling you to watch over your drink. You saw the queen and the king, who you had noticed sitting on the stone wall, holding hands, the wounds on their throats having looked almost too realistic to have been fake. And then you remembered your arrival at the castle. You thought back to the face you had definitely seen in the window at the top of one of the towers. This was all just coincidence, right? Your stomach turned in terror. Had someone tried to play a joke? But if so, why had their faces looked so perfectly similar to the family in the painting?

Quickly, you pulled up the social media of the girl, your school friend, who had served you at the bar. ‘Do you remember the girl dressed as a princess with bloody tears who you accidentally gave my drink to? She was sitting next to me at the bar’, you quickly typed and sent.

For at least an hour, you twisted and turned in your bed, going from almost sleeping to nervously checking your phone for a reply. You thought you were going crazy. But sooner or later, you realized she might have had too much to do, cleaning up the party or simply going to sleep herself, and you drifted off to slumber.

When you awoke the next day, the previous night almost felt like it had been a scary dream. But when you checked, your hips were still bruised and you had a new message from the girl who had worked at the bar: As far as I remember, the seat next to you was empty. I gave the drink to you. You were dressed as an angel, right? Why are you asking?

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honestsycrets · 3 years

Text

The Phantom I: Think of Me | Ubbe x Reader x Ivar

❛ pairing | ivar x reader x ubbe

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | you're used to a life with the phantom. his company feels like home.

❛ tags | slight violence, phantom of the opera au, love triangles, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | this piece has been a long time coming. each chapter will be named according to soundtrack pieces. the introductory scene is probably reminiscent of the movie, i really want to recreate those feelings for me. @alicedopey

The Opera was loud today. Usually, the flutter of shoes downstairs, the rush to change costume, or the giggles from flirtatious girls was typical. Sigurd would lower backdrops as beautiful ballerinas crossed him, dreaming of life not as the keeper of backstage: but as a musician. He loved the dancing girls. You rushed down the stairs to the bottom floor and binding it with soft ribbons passing rich crimson curtains of the stage. Madame Gunnhild reprimanded you for your heavy steps, reminding you that this was not folk music. This was ballet. Powerful, yes. But not unnecessarily loud.

The only loud one was the star whose voice rattled the stage. Her presence incited the glamour of a fat cat. Not that she was plump; perhaps she would be happier, rather than hungrily scrounging and screaming and howling for more and more. Signora Stella was insatiable.

“It’s because someone is coming for tonight’s gala. She wants to make sure he knows who she is. Didn’t you hear?” Adeline whispered. “Bjorn sold the Opera.”

“Is that really true?” The dancers convened on the stage for a final run-through of the opera Hannibal. For which your pink gossamer silk slave piece so appropriately draped off your hips while she stood donned in gold and red, strutting around the stage.

“It’s not FAIR!” Her eye was squarely upon manager Halfdan. His soft eyebrows bundled together as she berated him with her latest complaint. At his side, his brother stood with his hand settled nicely into the taupe pocket of his slacks. You recognized them. Bjorn brought them in the deep quiet of dance rehearsals. Harald especially loved the dancers. He loved to watch them spin along the stage like a top.

“Signora,” Halfdan’s sweet voice consoled. You rushed around her stony body, her beautiful blonde hair wrought in delicate curls. “La mia Stella,” he crooned. There was a softness to the way his dirty blonde hair framed his gentle eyes.

“I am the star, me! Me, me, me!” her foot cracked down on the hardwood floor. She gestured toward your ruddy-haired friend, then you, biting out her complaint. “Not one of these-- these dancing girls can sing like I!”

“We know, Signora.”

“Then who dressed-- them?”

Harald crossed his arms over one another, glancing toward his boots. It could never just be the voice. It was an experience. For a man like Harald, whose artistic expression was about in line with that of a straw doll, it meant costume.

“You will be the focus. We will give you a solo. Just for you!”

“A new song?” she turned, the wheels of her brain suddenly spinning again. She ran her ringed hand down Halfdan’s pressed deep blue suit, drawing her ruby nails up to tap him on the nose. “What kind of song?”

“Think of Me,” said Harald.

“Think of Me!” she squawked. “That is perfect. Perfect for a girl like me! Can you imagine me-- a childhood lover-- in Paris?”

No, you couldn’t. Even Paris was too muted for her taste.

“Well?” she looked toward your group. “Get off my stage. Especially you,” she pointed her finger between Adeline and you. You’re not sure who she’s talking about. “Fat little frog.”

It’s better not to push. You take Adeline in one hand and, with the other, the sheer fabric. The orchestra wretched alive again as the awful vocalizations filled the auditorium, reverberating your ear. Think of Me never sounded worse.

Still, it must be nice, you think, to be an opera star by virtue of birth. Sour with embarrassment but saved by the prospect of dance, you delighted in knowing that Stella would soon leave after her songs were sung to a T. A woosh of air hair threw your hair over your shoulders. It was compounded by her harsh scream and filling the auditorium. You glanced from the floor to the upper stage where, if you looked closely, you might have seen a shadow flitting across the bridge with the aid of the banister.

“Up up up up! Get me OUT FROM UNDER HERE!”

“Sigurd!” Halfdan boomed. “What are you doing up there!?”

“I wasn’t up there.”

Your fingers left your locket when Sigurd hiked up the stairs beside you. His dark trousers were stained with paint, as was his crisp white dress shirt, pulled apart with a pretty blue smear across his chest. You peered over Sigurd to see the black drop clattered over Stella’s back, pressing her chest to the ground and chin quivering in horror.

“So it fell on its own?” Harald accused belligerently.

“I never said that. Signora. The Opera is full of strange magic.” he stood upright, helping her stand on quivering heels, shouting in awful pain. He quirked his head. “Oh, she won’t be able to perform on that.”

She jabs her finger into Harald’s chest, deliberately on his fine silk tie. Then Halfdan, whirling a curse. Stella squealed with renewed vigor. “You see what you’ve done! I hate you! I hate you! And I hate this-- this phantom!”

“Not that again,” Harald rolled his eyes.

The light in her eyes burst, soaring through the surface like an explosion across the surface. How awfully she punched him, shouting about his indignation in not paying the Phantom his salary-- before flitting down the steps on a beating heel. She would be back. Maybe not today, but another. Sigurd dragged the fallen backdrop to the side, inspecting the thick-cut rope and all its seeming imperfections.

“Can we reschedule for next week?” said one.

“We need a new star,” said the other. “Every day is the same.”

Adeline leaned her aquiline nose into your curls, “Do you think it was him?”

An awful warmth flooded your belly. Should you rejoice in a woman’s abuse? No, but at the same time, it meant she would not be here to berate the ballerinas. There was no one there.

“She can sing it for you, Harald.” At that moment, Madame Gunnhild hooked her arms under your arms. Harald turned on his boot to Gunnhild, a sultry smile playing on his lips. “What? Her?”

“No, Madame. Please.” You choked on your own words in the attempt to process what she meant. She wove her spindly fingers in your hand, jerking you toward the middle of the stage. For a moment, your heart seized to beat, blood ran still, and you might have fainted by the curiosity in the brothers’ eyes.

“Shh,” she whispered into your ear. “I know you can sing Think of Me. I’ve heard you sing with him.”

If you ever have a moment, spare a thought for me.

Your stomach leapt with uncertainty in the silence of the room. Outside, gossip ran like a bolt of lightning across the sky. Stella’s replacement was never a position you hoped to have. Not for a day, nor an hour but here you were, dabbing your lips with a pink product after intermission in your father’s old room. His picture sat framed by photos of your family: Thyri, Siggy, and him. Your hand trembled as you seized it. Then, falling away, you looked toward the letter that sat square in front of you.

“You have a letter from the Opera Ghost,” Gunnhild had said. Usually, those words would have inspired anyone with fear. Instead, it filled your belly with fervor, a soft pinkness that dusted over your cheeks soften than any blush you could apply. “Open it when you’re alone.”

You fluttered your eyes, hoping that the excitement in your belly was just a built-up from this corset that restricted your breathing. Breath swelled in your chest. You hooked a letter opener under the blotchy gold seal.

“Bellisima.”

The voice echoed through the room. Your physician Athelstan told you it was nothing: a figment of your imagination that you ought to hush about-- or they would send you away. Your angel was a kiss from God and nothing more. Your chest swelled with a heavy breath, fixing the earrings into your ear. They looked like the very stars that shone on the rooftop of the opera house. The voice filled the room, a soft sing-song that bounced from wall to wall and filled you with something like peace.

“Open it, my sweet.”

“It frightens me,” you murmured.

“Don’t be frightened.”

With a flick of your letter opener, you forced the crisp letter apart. In it, a square of parchment sat nestled between a glimmering gold chain. It was a glorious gold chain and, at the end of it, a singular heart locket. There was a knock at your door just as you inspected the inscription etched into its surface.

“May I come in?”

Whether or not you’d agree, Harald already came in. He was a man of tall stature despite his height. Wherever he carried himself, there was respect. You knew him to be in love with Gunnhild, and though she gave him no attention, you knew his intentions for her.

“Do you want to sit down?” you offered. Harald drew off his taupe jacket to figure with a tucked letter in his black breast coat. He held it out to you. You took it, bracelets jingling and saw that inside was a wealth of currency.

“Oh-- this is…” you murmured. “More than I can accept.”

“You knew the viscount, don’t you?”

The viscount Ragnar, you recall. Your cheeks warmed with his memory—a thin child with honey brown hair and a big heart. Harald kneeled before you, running his hand on top of your fluffy pink ball dress.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It has been a while,” you gesture to your photo of your father, reminded by the memory of the land you left behind in Scandinavia. “He probably wouldn’t remember me.”

“I’d wager you’re wrong. Put in a good word for us. He’ll be hard-pressed not to notice you,” he pauses. He rolled his finger through your long curl. It slipped away from his finger as he took his bunched-up suit jacket and opened the door. “As beautiful as you look tonight.”

“I-- thank you.”

The door clasps shut. You didn’t need this money, you murmured. But perhaps the children could use bread. Your attention fell to the necklace around your neck. If you turned the gold pendant over and over again between your fingertips, you could calm the racing of your heart. Today, you would be Elissa. Tomorrow, maybe a chorus girl once again. It was your time. The Ubbe from your memory was just that: a memory.

“Sing it again.”

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#ubbe x reader #ivar x reader #Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #vikings imagines #viking imagine #ubbe x reader x ivar #ivar x reader x ubbe #vikings/reader #ivar/reader #ubbe/reader

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pocketramblr · 3 years

Note

im going to be so fucking predictable right now but, for a prompt... how about some momnight

I'm going to do my Very Best at this though I am very unpracticed with writing her so here we go!

---

"Alright, class. Today we're supposed to do a lesson that follows up on the interviews you did yesterday with Midnight and Mt. Lady. Which means I'm not teaching."

With that, Aizawa-sensei flopped to the ground. The thud was only slightly cushioned by the sleeping bag around him. A few students winced.

"Exactly!" Midnight said, shoving open the door. "This time, we'll be practicing a little more with cameras and a little less with talking."

Oh? The students all leaned in, curious and excited.

"We'll be practicing photo shoots! Come to studio 1-4, come on." She stepped to the side as the class got excited, and just waved Aoyama out the door when he jumped to go ask her a million questions, sparkling.

Toru was excited too, though she took more time to stand than the others. By the time she had, Yaomomo had already dragged the reluctant Jiro out of the room, and all that remained were Bakugo and Koda.

"Not going to be the last one there, I hope, Bakugo?" Midnight asked, tone of voice edging into a tease.

Bakugo grumbled about it being stupid, but he did hurry more out the door.

"And you, Koda? Nothing to be scared about, the camera doesn't bite." But their teachers sure might, if they dawdled- or interrupted anymore of Aizawa's extended naptime.

"Right!" Toru agreed, skipping to the back of the room to reach for the boy's arm. "Come on, it'll be a fun lesson! Better than a pop quiz, and maybe you'll even get to do a cute picture, like holding a bunny!"

Koda stared at her sleeve for a long moment, then finally nodded.

When they passed Midnight at the door, Toru looked up and realized the woman's smile had slipped a little; she looked thoughtful, brow furrowed behind her glasses.

The smile came back quickly though, as she tugged the door closed behind them and hurried them to the studio where the class was waiting for them.

Haya-senpai was also waiting for them, apparently. The cool girl stood in front of a group of third years by the side wall of the room, where several desks and mirrors and lights had been shoved in a row. The rest of the room was cleared out, backdrops and green screens angled around with a few stools and props.

"Alright, class 1a, before we get ready for your first shoot, there are some things to know." Midnight closed the door behind her. "You can take notes on your phone, if you want. There are several different kinds of photoshoots. What ones can you think of?"

"Ooh!" Mina waved her hand and was called on. "There's magazine photoshoots, and if you're lucky you'll be on the front page!"

"Certainly, magazine shoots. What else- Yaoyorozu?"

"Advertisements, with products?"

"Very good, you've done some of that already, haven't you? Alright, what other kinds?"

Toru waved her arm, humming so she'd be more noticed. Midnight crooked her finger at her. "Makeup? Well I guess that could be a product too, but there's also fashion shoots."

"Right on, Hagakure."

The class was quiet for a few moments, and Midnight nodded. "There's other kinds too- a headshot shoot, some hero agencies will require them for an application or their site. Portraits, lifestyle, sports, glamor, portfolio- the point is, there’s different types, and different points to each of them.”

Tsuyu raised a hand, and got a nod. “Midnight, all the different types, but don’t they boil down to either work use- like the headshots- or publicity for everything else?”

“That’s not a bad way of looking at it, Asui,” The teacher tapper her cheek as she paused, “But there’s more than that. You could also be doing it for benefit of others, either like a charity calendar photos, or perhaps even as a favor for a friend if one of them asks for a photo op.”

“And if,” Bakugo spoke up, apparently at the end of his patience for waiting for an explanation, “we don’t care about that crap? Publicity? If we haven’t got any friends who just want to take pictures of us?”

Midnight’s smile stretched, just a little, like a smirk. “Not a bad question. Anyone else think they have an answer?”

No one spoke, looking at each other, then Iida raised his hand.

“Midnight-sensei! Regardless of wanting to do publicity or charity or not, an agency may require to and all parts of a hero career should be done as exactly as one can, whether or not you want to-”

Midnight coughed. “Not bad, Iida, but not what I was thinking of. Bakugo, everyone, consider it like this. Once you become a hero- before that, even- you are going to have publicity. You are going to have paparazzi. Your photos are going to end up in ragmags no matter what you do.” She emphasized those words with a tap from her whip to her palm. “But, you can decide how you present yourself in other media. Sure, you can go way underground like Eraser. Or, you can take control of your representation. Choose your own photographers, magazines, products, vlogs, anything. That’s why you have to learn how to do these photoshoots and other media courses.” She clapped her hands, and the third years jumped. “So, we start with makeup.”

The older students waved some of her classmates forward, and Toru pushed Koda forward so he’d sit.

She found herself watching them get makeup put on, holding Iida’s glasses for him while Haya mused with his hair. Next to him, a senior was marking lines under Uraraka’s eyes to make the lashes pop.

“That looks really cute!”

“Thanks!”

“Do you mind me using a bit more foundation here?” Another senior said, poking at Midoriya. “It’s not quite even, but some of your freckles are showing through still.”

“Uhh,” Midori said, eloquently.

The older student raised his eyebrow.

“Um, actually, its,”

“It’s what, Midoriya?” Midnight asked, stepping from out of nowhere to peer over his shoulder at his mirror.

“It’s fine!” The makeup didn’t completely hide how red his face went.

Their teacher met his gaze in the reflection, clicking her tongue. “Come on, what did I say the point of the lesson was?”

“Um, control?” Midoriya asked, then went “Oh.”

Midnight smiled, straightening back up.

“I’d like my freckles to be- to not be covered up. Please.” Midoriya was still red, but the senior just shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll darken them with this then instead, so they actually show well under the lights and all that.”

He nodded, relaxing back in his seat, and Midnight squeezed his shoulder before moving on, nodding at Iida before looking at her.

“Hagakure, you haven’t gotten someone to start makeup yet?”

Toru shook her head- and shoulders. “No, Sensei. It’s not like I’ll show up on camera anyway, so.” She kept her voice cheerful, but her smile faltered halfway through.

It was fun to watch everyone else get dolled up and decorated... but would probably be fun if she could join them too.

Midnight stared at her, and she couldn’t read the expression before the teacher shook her head. “No, no. You’ll still have to participate and I have an idea!” She took Toru’s hand, then led her to the seat next to Uraraka.

Toru couldn’t keep the startled giggle from bubbling up as she sat.

“Midoriya,” Midnight said, riffling through the makeup on the desk, “You heard Hagakure. What do you think she could do in a photoshoot like this?”

“Hm.” Midoriya considered it, but when he answered he sounded much more confident than he had earlier. “Well, she’s invisible, but anything on her wouldn’t be. You could play with elements like dust or sparkles to suggest shape in an interesting way- oh, if you don’t mind being in your hero suit, that is.”

Midnight hummed an affirmation. “There’s a lot you and your team could do with that, and body paint is a fun medium to work with.” She paused, then leveled an eyeshadow brush at Toru like it was her whip. “Only when you’re eighteen, though. What do you think, Uraraka?”

“You could use your quirk, you know, to shine?” The brunette waved a hand. “Lighting up in different places to outline you, maybe, it’d look really cool if you had a space-y dress or something with it.”

“Oooh,” Toru had to admit that would be fun. It’d need a dark background and probably a camera without a flash or something, but it would be a picture of her, using her own quirk.

“Or like, even a space suit or something alien!”

“As long as I don’t upstage Mina!”

Midnight decided on something, then turned back with a nod, eyes sparkling. “Those are good ideas. Now, I’m going to try something with eyeshadow on you. Tell me when your eyes are closed.”

Toru closed her eyes as asked. “They are now, Midnight.”

If the point of this lesson was control, she wasn’t quite sure that this counted since she was just letting someone else do it, but Toru didn’t mind. She had a couple new ideas bouncing around for real photoshoots, in the future, and she really wanted to see what her teacher came up with.

She’d been right, this was fun.

It tickled a little, when Midnight traced eyeliner all on the sides of her face, but Toru managed to keep her face still enough. Then came brushes and colors she couldn’t see, shapes she could feel but not recognize.

Finally, the touches to her face stopped and she heard the brush clatter on the table.

“You can open your eyes now.” Midnight said, moving out of the way between the chair and the mirror.

Toru gasped, then stood so she could lean closer to her reflection.

Her teacher had painted elaborate designs over both her eyes, branching out like butterfly wings. They shimmered with many neutral tones, light and brown and pink between the black lines. A few sparkles were touched heavier on the ends, and overall they looked beautiful.

“Oh! Guys, look!” Toru turned, and Uraraka gasped too, clapping.

“Those look so pretty!”

“Right? Thank you so much, Midnight-sensei!”

The hero laughed, waving a hand. “You’re very welcome. You’ll have to work with the photographer to decide how to model it on your own though. Speaking of...” She checked the clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes left! Get to pictures then washing off.”

She walked off down the row again, checking on the other students, though not before she squeezed Toru’s shoulder for a second when she passed.

Toru was beaming as she asked for a senior with a camera to work with her, and she ended up with a picture of herself winking- one eye open to show the full butterfly, the other closed to show the colors swirled on the eyelid too.

It looked pretty, and it looked fun. It felt like a perfect picture.

#*offers this* sorry it took a while #it was pretty fun to write tho!#pocket talks to people #owlf45 #my writing

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deejadabbles · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)

Chapter One: We Are Broken

One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// [Five Coming Soon]

Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.

Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.

A.N. Woo look at me, starting a new series before I finish my current ones. Don't hate me I have the attention span of a squirrel! I know band AUs are pretty cheesy but I don't care, this idea has been floating in my head for awhile and it's super cute okay?? I was also going to wait to post this until all the chapters were done but I couldn't control myself anymore. These chapters will be much shorter than my usual length so hopefully that means I can update faster??? I won't make any promises but I'll try. Anywho, I hope you guys like fashionable, sensitive Atem because that's who'll be featured in this fic <3 The reader's gender is never mentioned but I will admit I tended to lean more towards songs sung by women in this, I don't really think that matters though (I have Atem sing songs originally sung by women so...). I really hope you guys like this series and I'll love to hear your thoughts <3 Also: @ohyema This is the series I told you about all that time ago lol

I am outside

And I've been waiting for the sun

With my wide eyes

I've seen worlds that don't belong

My mouth is dry

With words I cannot verbalize

Tell me why

We live like this

The crowd was small, as always, but it was enough. Anyone hearing your songs was enough for now, or so you told yourself week after week. You felt Yugi’s eyes on you as you leaned away from the mic, plucking the cords of your Stratocaster for the brief solo and you looked to your left to see him smiling at you; always the positive optimist, the sun that shone on you and the rest of the band.

You flashed him the briefest smile in return before turning back to the mic. If you closed your eyes, got lost in Anzu’s keys, Jou’s steady beats, and Honda’s strings, you could almost pretend you were playing in front of a packed venue. One full of fans solely there to hear music, and not just a dozen or so patrons who enjoyed the music as a backdrop to their late-night drinks.

Keep me safe inside

Your arms like towers

Tower over me

You could have sworn you heard another voice in the crowd join yours as the chorus came. Ah, so there was an actual fan in the crowd.

Cause we are broken

What must we do to restore

Our innocence

And all the promise we adored?

Give us life again

Cause we just wanna be whole

Your eyes fluttered back open for the briefest second and through the smoky haze in the room, you saw that someone at the bar was holding up their phone, camera aimed at the stage. That managed to make you smile, at least you had someone’s attention.

Lock the doors

Cause I'd like to capture this voice

It came to me tonight

So everyone will have a choice

And under red lights

I'll show myself it wasn't forged

We're at war

We live like this

“Are you guys on SoundCloud or anything? Cos that was pretty awesome!” asked a young man who looked barely old enough to be in the bar at all.

You were just helping Yugi pack away his turntables, having finished your set and wishing the small crowd a good night. The young man was with two others, all of them looking enthused as they stood at the base of the small stage. The girl even giggled when Honda winked at her.

Yugi, as usual, was the one to speak up and pulled out a small leather folder from his back pocket. “Yeah, we are actually! We also have a youtube channel,” he pulled cards from the folder, black cardstock with your band’s name, logo, and media accounts scrawled across it in gold text. He handed one to each in the trio, smile still bright on his face, “Check us out if you get the chance, we’re trying to put out a new album this summer, so we should have plenty of new songs to listen to soon.”

With a few ‘cool man’s and ‘awesome’s, the trio wandered back to the bar, the one who had spoken already pulling out his phone with the card in hand, and the girl waving at Honda over her shoulder.

“You know you shouldn’t get their hopes up,” Anzu whispered as she set her keyboard case at the foot of the stage, “Two songs does not an Album make- we have no clue when we’ll actually have it out!”

“Well,” you chimed in, clicking one of Yugi’s several cases closed, “Maybe telling new fans to expect more from us will finally light a fire under our song-writing-asses.” When Jonouchi opened his mouth, that cheeky look on his face, you held up your hand to silence him, “And yes, I know I procrastinate too much, I’m to blame too.”

Yugi lifted two of his cases- and answered after Jou jumped in to take the heavier of the two, “I still think all of us should take a week's vacation, lock ourselves in our studio and work on the album together. Only getting together a few times a week is what’s really killing us I think- we can’t get into a creative groove!”

You and Anzu exchanged a look, knowing full well that neither of your bills would appreciate the week's loss in pay. Still, maybe it was something that you guys could find a way to work out. Then again, there was another idea that had been brewing in the back of your mind for a while now, and you weren’t sure if it was really something that the others in your band would go for...like, at all.

“I don’t know, a week probably wouldn’t even be long enough,” Honda chimed in after slinging his guitar case over his shoulder, grabbing an amp in the free hand.

Jou nodded as you all started filing out the bar’s back door, “I’m still thinking that gettin’ together every single night until the album’s done is the best way to go, even if it’s just for a few hours!”

This was the usual road the song writing debate took, or at least, how it usually went the past month or so, and soon enough the topic came to a standstill, as it usually did.

After loading up Jonouchi’s truck with your equipment, Honda gave the suggestion of stopping for some burgers at the 24 hour joint down the road, a common ritual after your monthly gig at “The Bandit’s Den”. As usual, Jou parked in the space best visible from the front windows of the dinner, and the five of you were glad to find that not another soul sat at the tables.

After settling at your usual booth and ordering, Yugi actually splayed his hands out on the table, looking rather determined. “You don’t start work until seven tomorrow. Right?” he asked you.

“Yeah?”

“I think we should take another trip to the station.”

You actually had to repress a sigh at that. Yugi was all about trying to trigger inspiration for songs, and the “station” referred to an old train station on the outskirts of town. You guys had discovered it long ago and were eager to use it in a music video, but were waiting for the perfect song to go with it. Sure, the old giant clock and brick stairs were a perfect setting, but it had only sparked a line or two of lyrics, nothing to make a full song.

Out of the five of you, most of the lyric writing fell on your’s and Yugi’s shoulders, with Anzu, Honda, and Jonouchi giving occasional input. Since you were the lead singer most seemed to think you would be the natural lyric maker, but the truth was that, despite your talent in singing and playing the lead guitar, lyrics just weren’t your forte. You’d had some luck when teaming up with Yugi, his emotional maturity helping you work through the written expressions, but that only went so far. Yugi also tried things like this, exercises and field trips in the hopes that it would spark creativity.

“How many times have we been to the station before, Yugi?” you asked, “I just don’t think it’s the oracle of inspiration we all hoped it would be. I still want to film there some time, but I don’t wanna take time out to visit it again, I’ll just get annoyed when it doesn’t lead to anything.”

Yugi’s set expression seemed to blink away, replaced with something almost like guilt, “Okay, I was just trying to think of something to get our inspiration flowing…”

Now you’re the one who felt guilty. “I know...hey maybe we could try something new? Like we could go some other place or try some different way to spark our heads?” you suggested, trying to sound positive.

Yugi’s eyebrows lifted in interest, but he was cautious when he asked, “Like what?”

“I…” you trailed off when your mind came up blank. It remained blank even as your eyes trailed over the entirety of the empty dinner as well as the dark scenery outside. A growl of frustration left your throat as you face planted on the table, “I don’t know!”

You heard Yugi giggle as he reached out and patted your head. Beside him, Jonouchi said, “What you need is some brain food! That’s sure to help some ideas come- ah! And here’s our feast now!”

Even though the food was good, kick-start your brain, it did not. If anything the meal just made you more sleepy, even as you guys chatted over the next hour before paying the tab and piling back into Jou’s truck.

Like always the next stop was the studio, the home and hideaway for you and your friends. For a small-time band whose biggest fame was on Youtube, all of you were actually quite proud of your studio. Yugi’s grandfather owned a few rental properties, and since the building wasn’t fitting for a residential space, nor in a part of town that would serve a shop well, he had agreed to give you guys the small building in exchange for help around his game shop every week.

Working together to make the space your own was some of the best memories you had with your oldest friends; going to second-hand shops to gather fitting set pieces, saving up for the sound dampeners so you could record your songs without paying a big-time studio, setting up the back room with tattered old furniture and a mini-fridge that was sure to break down any day.

The only thing that beat those days were the times you actually spent in the studio; rehearsing, recording your few music videos, spending downtime together writing new music on lumpy bean bag chairs and worn rugs (and definitely getting distracted by each other every ten minutes).

The night was late enough that no one bothered the five of you as you unloaded the truck, and soon enough all of you were taking your usual spots in the back room (Anzu sprawling out on the battered chaise, Jonouchi and Yugi filling up the loveseat, Honda falling onto a pair of beanbags, and you plopping down in the hammock chair).

“Alright you guys, I’m just going to come out and say it,” Anzu sighed after a few moments of hanging off the arm of her seat, “We need help writing our songs.”

You actually sat up as straight as you could in your chair and peered over at her- had she really just said what you had been thinking of saying for weeks?!

When she saw your look, something like panic colored her face as she waved her hands, “Not that I don’t think you’re a good writer! The songs you came up with were awesome! ...But-”

You waved off her concern, the hard motion causing your hammock to spin a little, “No- no, Anzu, I totally agree! I just didn’t know if I should bring it up...”

Even if you hadn’t thought of it too, Anzu had plenty of reason to think you needed help. In the whole four years since your group had started the band, from the first days sitting in class drawing up logo ideas, you had only written six original songs- and that included the two that were meant to go on your new album. You had gotten by with relying on covers to fill out your live sets and media accounts and making a host of excuses for the lack of originality.

“You really think bringing in another bandmate’s a good idea?” Honda chimed in, eyes narrow as he leaned back in his beanbag chair.

“Yeah, we don’t wanna end up like half the other bands out there,” Jonouchi chimed in, seeming to subconsciously pull Yugi closer to his side, “you guys know the only reason our band works is because we get each other- we’re family! We can’t just bring another person into that, it’ll ruin it and maybe even break us up!”

Yugi put a hand over Jonouchi’s, “Hey hey, slow down, don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves? First of all, bands hire ghostwriters all the time, and they don’t always join the band. Besides... I don’t know, if the person’s really cool, would it be that bad to have another member?”

“We could always have them ghostwrite for us for a while, and if we like them, then talk about letting them join,” you offered, and were glad when everyone seemed to contemplate that with at least some positivity. “But that brings up the issue I think we’ll have, I’m not sure we can find someone who fits with our style all that easily. Like Jonouchi said, there’s a reason all of us work well together.”

It was true, all of you brought something to the table, something more than an instrument. The five of you had slightly different tastes, all of it coming together in something that wasn’t quite punk, not quite rock, not quite pop or even metal, and that’s what worked to your advantage. You wanted to prove that different sounds and styles could come together in harmony and appeal to listeners all across the spectrum. Not fit into a genre-labeled box that only fans of said genre would even bother listening to.

Eventually, Anzu gave a shrug, “We won’t know until we try. Why don’t we put the word out and see what happens?”

“We can still work on our own, and if we don’t find anyone who fits, we didn’t really lose anything besides time,” Yugi added, and that pretty much settled the matter.

Tomorrow the search for a new member of your team began.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh #yugioh x reader #Atem #yami yugi #series: a thousand songs #band AU #Yugioh Band AU #violinist atem

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azozzoni · 3 years

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I must hate myself for posting when no one reads but. Based off this giftset ‘cause I can. - Another VDS christmas fic.

Glittering lights shone against the backdrop of the main square, the scent of pine, mulled wine, and imminent snow in the air as Jens stood at the entrance of the Christmas market. In theory, it wasn’t any different from any other Christmas market Jens had visited in his life. But in reality, it was nowhere near the same.

Stalls selling everything from candles to tea to sweets and jewelry spread out before him, drawing customers like moths to a flame. Cheery Christmas songs permeated the chatter of the crowd through loudspeakers placed throughout the market and still, Jens didn’t move.

He could only stand there and think, cold hands in his pockets, wishing he’d thought to bring a hat or gloves. Wishing that he’d thought almost at all before jumping on the bus to Utrecht.

It wasn’t necessarily that he hadn’t thought. He’d been thinking about this for months. Not the Christmas market or the seemingly endless bus ride over or the impossibly happy couples milling all around him. But the way his heart jumped into his throat when he caught sight of Lucas weaving his way through the crowd.

Lucas hadn’t changed, was Jens’ first thought. Not that he had really expected him to in the few months since Jens had last seen him. Maybe his hair was a little longer, a little darker, but otherwise, he looked almost exactly the same as that last day he had come to the skatepark to say goodbye.

It was a day Jens remembered vividly, even if nothing significant had happened. There had been some slapping of shoulders on Moyo’s part, a heartfelt hug from Robbe, and an awkward embrace Jens sort of wished he could redo on his part.

It was almost as awkward as the text Jens had sent Lucas earlier, saying he would be in Utrecht later. He hadn’t even asked if Lucas was busy, relieved when Lucas had replied excitedly and told him to come to the market.

Now that he was here, watching Lucas draw closer, he couldn’t help wonder what the fuck he was doing.

Before he could go over the events that had led him to this exact spot, to jumping on the first bus he found to Utrecht without much of a second thought, Lucas was there, standing in front of him, a smile on his face, and Jens’ heart was seizing in his chest, all fluttery nerves and anxiety he hadn’t expected somehow.

“Hey,” Lucas said, softly, and it was all Jens could do to swallow down the lump rising in his throat.

“Hi,” he breathed, the word appearing in a cloud of breath in the icy night air.

Jens had had many months to imagine this particular moment—and not a single one had involved him acting like an idiot as they stood there, the Christmas market busy behind Lucas, the cold street behind Jens, as if they stood on the brink of something magical.

“It’s been a while,” he said finally, and Lucas only smiled.

It had been almost five months, Jens realized, since Lucas had told him he was moving back to Utrecht to live with his mom. They hadn’t even gotten the whole summer to hang out. Lucas had only moved to Antwerp in the spring, shown up at school one day in March, been sat next to Jens in English class and whispered the answer to the teacher’s question under his breath when Jens blanked.

That had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship, as Moyo might have mockingly called it once or twice. It had definitely been the beginning of something Jens hadn’t expected.

As he hesitated, he felt it again—the way his stomach churned like a ship at sea, a clench as Lucas’ smile quirked, gentle.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he said finally, hopeful. He hadn’t really had a plan, a thought about what he might say when faced with Lucas. He’d just known that he needed to see Lucas.

Lucas’ smile widened as he nodded. “Yeah, sure, I—”

“Luc!” Another voice interrupted him before Jens’ hopes could grow too big, a guy in a puffy white coat lumbering through the crowd to grab onto Lucas’ arm. “I need mulled wine!”

Lucas’ glance at Jens was apologetic, partially amused as he dislodged the guy from his arm. Jens wasn’t really listening to what the guy said next, some other name, a complaint about not being drunk enough.

“I’ll be right back,” Lucas said as the guy dragged him off, and Jens couldn’t complain.

He needed that minute, he thought as Lucas disappeared into the crowd. He needed that minute to get himself together. It might have been a whim coming here, but it felt as if he’d meant to do it for a while. It wasn’t just a particularly depressing day between Robbe talking nonstop about the Christmas party he and Sander were planning, Aaron and Amber always making out everywhere. Even Moyo seemed lovestruck by Noor, of all people. How had Jens become the odd one out?

Even though Lucas had moved away months ago, Jens hadn’t forgotten him. The others, they’d mentioned him once or twice, but Jens felt as if he thought about Lucas at least once a day. He was sure the others didn’t. And it had taken him a long time to figure out why.

Huddled in his jacket, Jens shook his head, glancing around at the different booths. They all seemed so cheery, brightly-lit and emanating warmth that spilled onto the people wandering between them.

“Sorry.” Lucas appeared again, slightly out of breath, as if maybe he’d hurried back. “I pawned Jayden off on someone else.”

“It’s cool.” Jens shrugged, just glad Lucas had come back. Not that he’d thought he wouldn’t.

“You want to get a drink or a waffle or something?” Lucas asked after a second, and maybe he was a little nervous too.

“I’m good,” Jens said, and Lucas nodded. There was an awkward pause for a second as Jens wished he’d come with a plan. “Maybe we could just wander around.”

“Okay,” Lucas agreed, falling into step with Jens.

It hadn’t been this awkward before, when they’d hung out practically every day in Antwerp. Their friendship had felt so easy then, as if they’d known each other forever. They’d texted since Lucas had left, maybe once or twice a week, but nowhere near as often as before.

As they passed a stand selling hot cider, Jens glanced over at Lucas, and Lucas caught his eye with a smile.

“So how are the guys?” Lucas asked after a minute, and Jens jerked his shoulders.

“The same, mostly. Moyo’s in love with Noor but she kind of hates him.”

Lucas laughed, face lighting up, and Jens had forgotten what that felt like—a punch to the gut, the sudden onset of something churning deep inside him. It had taken him far too long to figure out what that meant, and now it was even worse.

“How’s your mom?” he asked to distract himself from the way his heart thrummed in his chest. “Last time we talked, you said she was doing better.”

Lucas nodded, hands in his pockets, elbow bumping into Jens’ as they squeezed past people crowded around a booth.

“I think we finally found medication that works. And she’s going to therapy a couple times a week. She’s back to working like normal. It’s good.” He nodded again, watching Jens.

“And I guess being home doesn’t suck?”

Lucas laughed, ducking his head. “It’s nice to be back. I did miss my friends, even if they’re assholes half the time.” He glanced at Jens, pausing. “Although I don’t think I ever told you how grateful I was that you guys let me into your group so easily.”

It hadn’t been that hard to convince anyone, Jens thought. Lucas had been cool from the minute they’d met, laid-back and easy going at least on the surface.

“Nah,” he said easily, wandering with Lucas through the different stalls, not really paying attention to what they were selling. “I think they liked you better than me.”

“That’s not true,” Lucas protested, grinning, and Jens shrugged. “How’s Sander doing?”

“He’s good,” Jens said, though he wished they weren’t talking about other people. He hadn’t really come here to catch Lucas up on what was going on in Antwerp. Lucas could easily find out on his own, but the small talk was easier than forming the words that had been swirling in Jens’ brain for months, ever since Lucas left.

He hadn’t clocked it back when Lucas had first moved to Antwerp. He hadn’t even really noticed the weird way his stomach would get all jittery and anxious whenever Lucas smiled at him until months into knowing him. He’d only ever gotten those feelings with girls, and really, only with Jana.

He’d thought it might go away when Lucas left, that they’d become those friends who liked each other’s posts on Instagram and nothing else. But the texting hadn’t stopped, and the feelings deep inside Jens had clawed their way to the surface after many sleepless nights, some stealth searching for gay porn in the dead of night, some stalking of Lucas’ Insta.

They paused as they reached a small ice skating rink in the center of the market, and Jens leaned against the barrier, watching kids and their parents sliding around on the ice. He hadn’t come here just to wander around a market with Lucas.

But he couldn’t figure out how to say what he was thinking, what he’d been thinking ever since he’d left school today and gone straight to the bus station.

“So,” Lucas said after a minute, watching Jens instead of the skaters. “You just felt like coming all the way to Utrecht to see a Christmas market?”

“Why else?” Jens joked, but he took a breath as he turned to Lucas. “Can we get out of here? It’s a little crowded.”

Lucas looked surprised at the request, but he nodded. “Sure. We can get out of here.”

As they left the market, Jens following Lucas into the considerably darker streets without the cheer of the booths and lights, he let out a breath.

“Is everything okay?” Lucas asked as they walked, side by side on the narrow sidewalk. He sounded concerned, eyebrows furrowed when Jens glanced over. “It’s not your parents?”

“No,” Jens said easily, shaking his head. “I mean, they’re still fighting, but it’s what they do.” He could only hope the divorce would go through soon and they would all be able to move on.

Lucas nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced that everything was fine. The road they were following curved around a corner along a canal, street lights reflecting off the water, the windows on the buildings hung with wreaths and a few twinkly lights.

Jens was surprised when Lucas stepped off the sidewalk, over to the edge of the canal, a small patch of grass beyond the row of bicycles. He followed, settling down next to Lucas, shivering at the wind coming off the water.

“I missed you,” Lucas said after a minute, so quiet Jens almost didn’t hear.

“You did?” His heart jumped in his chest, too hopeful.

In all the months Jens had known Lucas in Antwerp, Lucas had never shown any interest in the girls who flirted with him, girls who tried to dance with him at parties, always choosing to hang out with Jens and the guys instead. Jens hadn’t thought too much of it at first—Lucas had been the new kid after all. He could have been shy. But Lucas wasn’t shy, not like that. It hadn’t been until after that Jens had wondered if there was a different reason Lucas didn’t flirt with any of the girls.

“As much as anyone can miss a jerk,” Lucas said, half a joke, knocking Jens’ shoulder, and Jens let out a breath.

“Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Through the darkness, Lucas gazed at him for a minute, and Jens had to look away.

Now that he was here, sitting next to Lucas, their knees knocking into each other, so close yet so far, Jens thought it had just been a fit of Christmas spirit madness that had brought him here. What was he expecting to happen? But if he didn’t do it now, would he ever?

“Jens,” Lucas said slowly, licking his lips, eyebrows furrowed, “Are you sure—”

It was definitely Christmas madness that seized Jens as he leaned over and kissed Lucas. It was a quick kiss, barely a peck, just long enough that he felt Lucas inhale sharply. He was back in his spot before Lucas could even blink, mouth hanging open slightly—surprised or angry or confused, Jens didn’t know.

“What,” Lucas said after a breathless second in which Jens could swear time stood still. “What was that?”

“I thought you’d know what a kiss was,” Jens joked before he could stop himself, grimacing to himself. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he be serious for once? Lucas was going to think he was just being stupid.

For a moment, Lucas didn’t reply, hands in his lap, staring at Jens and the way Jens stared at the water in turn.

He’d fucked it up, was his only thought as he stared unseeingly at the ripples in the icy water. He should have done it differently, maybe said something before he acted like a complete idiot and kissed him. It hadn’t been at all like he’d imagined—too quick, too nerve-wracking, too afraid Lucas might shove him away, into the water maybe.

Lucas’ hands on his neck, turning his face, brought him back to reality. Lucas was going to hit him, or at least tell him he had it all wrong.

But that wasn’t what happened at all with Lucas’ cold fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, a slight pressure pulling Jens to him.

This was the kiss Jens had imagined as their noses brushed together, a second before their lips did. Lucas’ lips were warm where Jens was sure his were cold, soft and lingering, almost hesitant as Lucas opened his mouth, let Jens deepen the kiss.

His hands slid to Lucas’ back, down his soft, black coat, tight around his waist as he felt Lucas inhale, press into him, chasing the slide of his lips.

Jens didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it could have been forever. He would have been happy to stay like that forever with Lucas’ tongue against his, warm, heated breath between them, lips tingling, a smile here and there that made Jens’ heart do stupid little flip-flops in his chest every time. Lucas wanted this. Lucas wanted this. And so did Jens.

“I think my fingers are frozen,” Jens muttered as he slid down Lucas’ jaw, and Lucas laughed, quiet, pulling Jens into a hug instead.

His arms twined around Jens’ neck, secure, as if he wasn’t going anywhere, and Jens smiled at the kiss Lucas brushed to his cheek. He tightened his own grip as well, even if he could barely move his fingers. Even if his toes were numb, his cheeks red, more from Lucas’ kisses than the cold.

“I did miss you,” Lucas said again, whispered in Jens’ ear. “I thought about you all the time.”

Jens couldn’t help smiling, burying his face in Lucas’ neck as he took a deep breath, calm coming over him. “I didn’t know what to say, so…”

“You thought you’d just show up at Christmas and kiss me?” Lucas asked, pulling back finally to grin at Jens.

“It worked,” Jens pointed out, and Lucas nodded slowly.

“It did.”

Jens’ chest swelled as Lucas kissed him again, playful, gentle.

Lucas sighed as he moved back, hand falling from Jens’ neck finally, and Jens couldn’t help reaching for it.

“Your hands are cold,” Lucas said, sounding surprised, and Jens laughed.

“Well, I didn’t bring gloves.”

“Didn’t really think this through, did you?” Lucas asked, cheeky, and Jens shoved him playfully. All the nerves from before were gone, replaced with a simmering tingle of happiness filling his whole body.

“Fuck you. I came to see you. I wasn’t really thinking about anything else.”

Even in the dark, he could see the blush on Lucas’ cheeks at his words, the way he ducked his head as though embarrassed.

“Are you going back on the last train?” he asked instead, and Jens sighed. Another thing he hadn’t really considered.

“I guess so,” he said after a second, and Lucas was quiet for a minute.

Jens hadn’t really had a plan for what to do next. He hadn’t had a plan for what to do first, in all honesty. But now that they’d made it this far, now that he knew Lucas liked him to, whatever came next would just be gravy.

“You could stay at my place,” Lucas said finally, glancing up at Jens. “My mom won’t mind.”

“Really?”

Lucas nodded, warming Jens’ fingers in his. “And tomorrow’s Saturday. You could meet the guys.”

Jens hesitated. “Do they know you’re…” He certainly hadn’t told anyone about these feelings he’d been having for Lucas.

“I told them when I came back,” Lucas admitted, smiling slightly. “After I met this guy I couldn’t stop thinking about.”

“It better have been me,” Jens said, pretending to be offended when Lucas rolled his eyes.

“No, it was Sander,” he said, laughing when Jens shoved him, but Lucas didn’t let him, pulling him in for a kiss. Jens could forgive him if everything ended like this, with his heart fluttering, Lucas’ lips pressed to his. Lucas smiled as he broke away. “So can you stay?”

“I’ll tell my mom I’m staying at Robbe’s,” he murmured, anchoring his hands in Lucas’ jacket as Lucas grinned.

“Sounds like a plan.”

It did sound like a very good plan, Jens had to agree as he pulled Lucas back to his lips and kissed the smile right off it. A very good plan indeed.

#van der stoffels #wtfock #skam nl #my fic

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Let’s Review || Chapter 22

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat additional warnings: open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the additional "spoiler-y" tags for trigger warnings

hey guys! i made a ko-fi! if you enjoy this and have some cash you could spare to help me out with my bills, id really appreciate it! if you follow the link and check out the ‘posts’, there’s a snippet for ch. 4 of posies!

Their parents had died a few months after her thirteenth birthday and Penny essentially blacked out for the next 8 months. She didn’t remember anything from that school year, although she’d evidently scraped by in all of her classes—actually, Penny was still convinced that little Peter, who was already showing signs of being a tiny genius, had done at least half of her homework. She didn’t remember Hanukkah that year, or the first Christmas she’d ever celebrated with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. She had zero friends coming out of that year, having accidentally pushed everyone away in fits of rage or sadness that she couldn’t even remember. The pain cut just as deep every time she remembered showing up to school the first day of her freshman year only to receive the cold shoulder from half her grade.

That was actually one of the first memories she’d retained after coming out of 7 months and 3 weeks of complete emptiness, how none of her best friends wanted anything to do with her. Everything had been confusing, somehow devastating all over again but… it was less. Her parents were gone and it hurt so much but it was nothing compared to the agony that had beset her form seconds after being informed her mom and dad were dead. When Penny racked her brain she could almost remember Aunt May crouched in front of her while she sat on the couch at home, holding her hands.

Somewhere in her brain, Penny had known that plane crashes were possible. Like, as a concept she understood the idea. The plane that was flying through the air stops doing that, and all the people inside the plane die. But it couldn’t possibly happen to her parents—they were her parents, they were infallible. Plane crashes happened, yeah, but her parents couldn’t be gone. Aunt May had told her several years later that she and Ben had been petrified she would try to kill herself, especially when the state tried to take the young girl away from the Parker’s.

They’d never had the money for therapy and Penny figured she’d never regain the memories from those months but honestly, she didn’t want them. The gaps were reprieves, the missing conversations, the absence of any and all detail. Wasn’t she sad to not remember her eighth-grade graduation? Fuck no, it was a blessing to forget how she’d felt like everyone in existence had their eyes on her—except for the ones she wanted.

There were times she absently wondered how disappointed her parents would be that she didn’t finish college, let alone get an actual high school degree. Her dad had been so smart, a genius in his own right. And her mom… Penny tried not to think of her mom often, not when it hurt so deeply. Mary Parker had been a gentle soul with an IQ of 150 who made Penny feel safe and loved and understood every day of her life. Her mother would’ve been understanding, she would’ve seen the necessity in her dropping out but it would’ve hurt that gentle soul to know the opportunities her baby had missed.

It hurt Penny in a special way that neither of Mary and Richard Parker’s children would be graduating from high school. Neither would attend university. They wouldn’t go on to press the limits of their parent’s knowledge or make an impact on the world. Somehow despite everything she’d sacrificed, Peter would never get the opportunity that he deserved. Her genius baby brother, his potential capped before he had a chance to try. God, it was an agonizing burn in her chest, a searing pain that made her nauseous and light-headed.

Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if her ribs would crack. The cabin was lovely. Dark wood and an A-frame, a nice deck in the back and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees, with dark needles or thin pale trunks, the purple mountains of the Rockies a lovely backdrop. It was colder than she’d expect for summer, especially considering the overcast sky and the breeze. The clouds moved so fast at such a high altitude and Penny watched trembling as a shadow passed over the house, chasing the light away before the sun followed its path ravenously once more.

Steve and Bucky were unloading suitcases from the back of the SUV, passing each other calculating looks as Penny stood practically frozen in place. Her shoulders were hunched almost to her ears, arms wrapped gently but tightly around the white kitten in her arms. It was purring quietly, the same way it had been for hours now. The little thing had cried the first few hours after they’d left the tower and subsequently the chubby cheeked orange kitten behind, only settling when Penny laid down across the middle seat in the SUV and let it burrow into the crook of her neck.

If Penny turned around she would’ve recognized the mournful looks on their faces, the pain in the lines of their eyes. The soldiers knew the hurt she felt, to be separated from their most important person—they understood that Peter was the most important person in Penny’s world. This separation was on their heads, but what could they do? They’d worked themselves into a rut, the three of them, wearing such deep treads into their negative behaviors that they couldn’t climb out. A complete shakeup was the only solution.

Both winced when she abruptly folded at the waist, clutching the kitten to her chest, and vomited over the pine needle strewn dirt of the driveway. Her hair fell in heavy, curly curtains around her face as she heaved again, hiding her tear-streaked face from the soldiers’ view. The sound of them setting the bags they held down registered in Penny’s ears but she couldn’t find the strength to collect herself before they converged on her.

“Come ‘ere doll, lemme take you up to the bathroom,” Bucky stated quietly, sweeping her and the cat up into his arms as gently as he could, “you can take a bath while me and Steve get everything unloaded. I think you’ll really like the cabin baby, we… well, we designed it just for you. If there’s anything you want to change, you just tell us. We want it to be perfect for you.”

She mostly caught flashes of green and white and brown, tucking her chin to look at the kitten snuggled into her cleavage. It felt cruel, to have taken the white one and left the orange, but the little chubby-cheeked kitten had taken to her brother so well—better than it had taken to her, even. Peter had named it Malcah and while it still didn’t like being picked up or held, it twined his ankles and meowed at him for love.

“Sit here baby,” the soldier set her carefully on the lid of the toilet, after having climbed a set of stairs and turned multiple blurry corners, “let me run your bath.”

It was all white tile, the toilet built into the wall. The tub was a freestanding clawfoot, with a spray nozzle and high sides. It was surprisingly small, considering how large the tub in the tower had been. Penny idly speculated that only perhaps one of the soldiers would be able to fit at time and it would certainly be a tight squeeze if she was forced in with them. There was a standing shower on the other side, where the roof wasn’t so sharply sloped by the A-framed roof. The nice thing, that Penny would never admit was very nice, was all of the plants. The entire room was predominantly white but there was a long-vined philodendron hanging gracefully over the tub, snake plants sitting on the shelf before the toilet. She could see a rubber plant and another type of vine by the sinks, framing the mirror.

They’d obviously gone to great lengths to make sure it would be something she liked, clearly evidenced by the bathroom alone. There were even candles waiting to be used on the antique, hunter green shelves and bath bombs with lovely scents. If she’d been able to design a personal bathroom, Penny figured it would probably have looked something like this and that made her hate it all the more.

The bastards were so in their heads they could barely see the sunlight. Penny was convinced that they were so distracted orchestrating her nightmare they��d lost the plot. They kept throwing stuff at her; beautiful plants, nice clothing, cute cats, lovely homes—but it didn’t mean a single thing. All of the possessions in the world didn’t make up for the gaping, rotting hole in her chest.

“Alright doll, let’s get you undressed,” Bucky shifted towards her once the water was at the right temperature and filling the tub, a small smile on his stubbled face.

“Do you think I’m debilitated?” She rasped after a moment, rolling her eyes up to stare him in the face before spitting a vomit speckled wad of phlegm onto the rug by her feet and setting the kitten on the shelf next to the snake plants. “Last time I checked I didn’t need to be treated like a baby. Are you gonna keep standing over me like a pervert? Get out.”

The soldier’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, surprised by the calmness behind her cutting tongue. Usually, when Penny got an attitude, it came with fury and fists and resulted in broken bones or bleeding wounds. This was overwhelmingly controlled; a bitchy rebuttal. Her voice was the gravelly tone she usually got after screaming or crying, dark brown eyes nearly black. When he didn’t move, Penny rolled her eyes and stood, whipping her t-shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

“You’re bein’ a little moody, babe,” Bucky watched calmly as she undressed, her clothes piling up on the floor. “Wanna think about reigning it in?”

Penny’s hair was big and curly around her face, framing the clenched jaw and sneering nose. “What are you gonna do, kill me? Whatever.”

“Penny, what—”

“Peter is a thousand miles away,” Penny’s voice started out sharp but very quickly faded into a tired drawl, “you can’t hurt him from here. And what do I care if you hurt me? So could you either get the fuck out and let me take a bath or fucking drown me in it? Whatever it takes for this interaction to be over.”

“Are you looking for a punishment right now?” Bucky’s lips pulled down at the corners, eyebrows furrowing, “‘Cause you’re working your way towards one really quick.”

“What’re you gonna do? Kill someone in front of me?” She groaned, reaching up to dig her fingers into the roots of her hair, tugging sharply before dragging it into a tangled, thoughtless bun on the top of her head “Or spank me until I can’t sit? Rape me? Could you just get it over with? I want to be alone, please!”

Bucky was silent for several long seconds before sighing through his nose, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. “Take your bath, think about your fuckin’ attitude. Steve and I are gonna bring the bags in.”

He left the door open and Penny was further irritated to learn he had too much dignity to stomp down the stairs the way she’d hoped he would. His break in composure had been so good for her it was unbelievable—but there was likely a punishment on the horizon and Steve wasn’t likely to let her off easy once the brunet told him what she’d said. The bastard was stone cold when it came to that shit.

She stared idly at the steaming bath, naked with her clothes piled around her feet—the question was whether she wanted a bath or if she’d been resigned to it? The water was scented, because of course it was. It was even one of her favorite citrusy scents, she noted disdainfully, another thing they had paid so much attention to while keeping her locked up in a tower like fucking Rapunzel. Now in a cabin, she figured she was a Jewish Goldilocks surrounded by hungry bears.

But it smelled nice and her body ached from the long car ride, it had already been run so why not hop in? Besides, it would keep her busy while the soldier’s fucked around and she wouldn’t have to see them for a bit. They were shuffling around and she could hear the sounds of bags being placed around the cabin. The door banged off the walls several times, always accompanied by a groan or a curse, one of which she recognized as a Yiddish swear—which she refused to find endearing. The kitten meowed at her from its position on the shelf, looking put out to be so far away but Penny shushed it quietly.

“You won’t like the water, just stay there,” she murmured quietly at the distraught little creature, picking up a washcloth and dunking it into the perfumed water. “If I come get you I’ll make a huge mess.”

She ignored the kitten as it continued to communicate with her, chittering in annoyance and pawing the edge of the ledge for several minutes before evidently surrendering and lying down with its little paws draped over the edge. Penny smiled to herself, the cat’s tail was roughly the size of its body and when it curled the fluffy mass of fur around itself it became unrecognizable as a cat. The orange one would’ve continued to complain until Penny let it down, would’ve just barely given her ankles a rub before running off to hide somewhere.

That’s why she decided to leave Malcah with Peter; the orange cat didn’t run from or scratch him. She twined his ankles, sat next to his thigh on the couch, kneaded her little paws against him. Peter had decided both kittens were female, based on the very reasonable basis that he wanted them to be. Penny wasn’t sure, didn’t quite care. The only thing she ever referred to the cats as was Chatul—which literally meant cat in Hebrew. She’d shortened it to Tuly for the white kitten, for the sake of ease, but refused to say it in front of the soldiers. The cat was hers, she didn’t have to share it with them.

The sounds of the soldiers were becoming more consistent throughout the cabin and Penny figured they must’ve brought in all of the bags and were focused on unpacking. She could hear someone down in the kitchen, unloading the masses of groceries they’d brought up the mountain while the other was in the bedroom. Penny rubbed the washcloth over her skin lightly, the oils from the fragrance making her skin soft and slippery.

She didn’t hear him come in, she felt Steve come in. The blond’s presence was just as overwhelming as Tony Stark’s, an aura bigger than his body that filled the room. She could feel the disappointed stare, even as she continued to wipe herself down with the washcloth. Her teeth ground together as he watched in silence, just waiting.

“Bucky said you’ve caught an attitude, baby doll.”

“Caught an attitude?” She rolled her eyes. “Wow, if only I hadn’t become desensitized to living in constant terror—you never would’ve realized I’ve had an attitude the whole time!”

“We’re supposed to be turning a new page, Pen.”

“Turning a—” Penny scoffed, face appalled as she abruptly stood from the bath and ignored the water going everywhere, “we’re not turning a new page—You burnt the fucking book!”

The blond’s eyes widened; Penny had gotten angry in the past, furious even. She’d broken things, broken skin, broken bones and it was always accompanied by outraged screaming. But Penny didn’t make unnervingly straight eye contact while she did it. She was barely coherent at the best of times, mostly she screamed to the room at large before flying into a violent frenzy—it was different. It was startling, the light in her eyes and the way her voice cracked.

“There is no page turning, there’s no fucking—fucking reconciliation here, Steve,” she snatched a towel from the rack behind the tub, wrapping the light green fabric around her chest tightly, “I can’t believe after, fuck, how long has it been? A month and a half? Two months? What fucking day is it?”

“…It’s July 2nd,” he found himself choking out, still feeling shell shocked as she stepped out of the tub.

“A month and a half,” Penny’s face twitched, just barely concealing the distraught look he could see she wanted to make and she started shifting past him, “Jesus Christ after a month and a half you guys still don’t get it—you know what, never mind. After a month and a half, I should’ve been smart enough to realize what dumbasses you both are.”

“Penny—”

“God, fuck!” She shouted up at the ceiling, stopping in place halfway out the door. “I have listened to you two talk at length for what’s apparently been a month and a half! I have tried to listen to your stupid fucking rules, I put in the fucking effort and you still decided to take away the one thing I care about! I’m sick and tired of you saying my name in that fucking tone, I’m tired of constantly internalizing and I’m tired of being fucking walked on! So I’ll tell you what I told Bucky—either kill me or leave me alone, but for fucks’ sake just give me space!”

A low mew followed her statement and Penny made an abrupt about face, stomping past him to snatch up the kitten from where it had been sitting on the ledge and storming past him again. It was like getting brushed by a wildfire and Steve fought the urge to take a step back when her wet hair whipped against him.

She dug through one of the bags that held her belongings angrily, kitten on her shoulder, knowing that the blond continued to watch her from the bathroom doorway. Shorts, underwear, a sports bra, a t-shirt, and a hoodie over that. She would’ve put on socks but she knew it bothered Steve when she went barefoot.

“Come downstairs, precious,” he sighed after watching her dress, gesturing towards the stairs, “we’ve got to talk.”

“We’ve always got to talk,” Penny snorted derisively but started down the stairs anyway, Tuly back in her arms, “but it’s usually just you two telling me what I can and can’t do. Stop bossing me around.”

Steve followed after her, aghast and confused—Penny had always been brave in the situations she was forced into, whether it was taking custody of her fourteen year old brother or dealing with being kidnapped from her apartment by a billionaire criminal, but she hadn’t ever antagonized before. She’d talked back, got irritated, snapped, but she hadn’t ever just been flat out bitchy.

On the main floor, Bucky had already put away all of the groceries and was folding up the cloth shopping bags to tuck away for next time. The brunet’s eyes locked on Penny for several long calculating seconds and her hackles raised; whatever was coming was going to be annoying. She refused to be afraid though, not when there wasn’t anything to lose. Not anymore.

“Sit on the couch, let’s talk,” Steve directed, watching as she seemed to contemplate following the direction before doing so, “things are obviously going to be different here, precious.”

“The cabin is equipped with the same AI as the tower but its restricted to monitoring and safety protocols,” Bucky explained, gesturing to the open layout of the main floor, “you’ll be able to go outside so long as you ask first, there’s plenty to do out there. When Steve bought it there was an overgrown vegetable garden out there, we had it cleaned up for you and the shed fixed up and stocked. A lot of good hiking around here too.”

“I can’t talk to JARVIS?” She asked, eyes tracking the way the soldier’s exchanged glances. “Of course not. Then I would have some sort of interaction beyond the pair of you. Damaging to your plan, huh?”

“Penny, the rules didn’t end just because we’re out of the tower,” Steve had one hand braced on his hip while the other rubbed over his forehead, “be—”

“If you say Be Sweet I’ll find a way to kill myself,” Penny intoned, a dry look on her face. “Jews don’t have an afterlife you know, I’m not afraid of going to Hell.”

“Penny, we’re trying—”

“Penny we’re trying,” she mocked in a high-pitched voice, dead eye stare once again boring into Bucky’s, “I’m not. I’m done trying. You’ll either kill me or drive me insane, I’ll never see Peter again—I…I failed. I couldn’t protect him, I couldn’t even keep him safe until he was an adult, isn’t that insane? Grand total of three years and some change and I fucked it up.”

Penny stood up from the couch, shaking her head as she went. The kitten was quick to jump off the couch and follow after her, meowing while that massive fluffy squirrel tail curled over its back. The open floor plan of the cabin came in handy for the soldiers though, because she couldn’t really escape even as she walked across the living room and into the kitchen.

It was hard to pretend she didn’t actually love the cabin. The kitchen was small, located beneath the loft that held the bedroom and bathroom. The railing to the loft was covered in live vines that hung down to create a tiny illusion of separation between the living room and kitchen, the kitchen itself was sage green with white and dark brown accents. There were more plants, open cabinets mounted to the walls, the sink was small but there was a dishwasher. She loved the spiral staircase that led up to the loft, framing the kitchen to the left with small shiny baubles hanging from it.

There was a hamsa and a cross, both stained glass and hanging from the tallest step. Pretty cat toys hung from the lower railings, just within the kitten’s reach. It made Penny’s skin itch, just how lovely and perfect the whole cabin was. More evidence that they were paying a freaky amount of attention to her and every move she made.

“You didn’t fail, doll,” Bucky’s tone was quiet and he hesitated for a moment before following after her several paces, ending up on the edge of the kitchen, “You didn’t fuck it up, Peter—”

“Peter is trapped in a prison in New York with a creep more than twice his age who wants to violate and brainwash him,” Penny was on her knees in front of the fridge, digging through the crisper drawer in the bottom. “Literally all I had to do to prevent that from happening was pay more attention to his daily life. Fuck, kid was practically raising himself with how often I was gone—never stood a chance, you know?”

“Don’t think like that Penny,” Steve sighed, leaning down to pick up the kitten that had circled back to his ankles and setting it on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done. You know who Tony Stark is, you know what he’s capable of. You can’t heap that guilt on your shoulders.”

“Oh, can’t I?” She hummed, absently throwing a package of bacon onto the floor, followed by a flat of raw chicken and beef. “There can be dairy in here or there can be meat, not both.”

“We might need a second fridge,” Bucky observed quietly, watching Penny drop a couple of deli bags with sandwich meat onto the ground before she started shuffling everything into different places within the cooler. “We could keep it in the shed?”

“No room,” Steve shook his head absently, “garage?”

Penny had collected a stack of items from the fridge and piled them onto the counter, not even bothering to look back on the soldiers as she began puttering around. The open-faced cabinets on the walls held mostly dishes and containers filled with ingredients and she ducked down, opening the lower cabinets and digging out several pans.

“Do you… do you want a hand, doll?” Bucky asked hesitantly after several moments, watching her collect ingredients and tools and turn on the stove.

“No.”

“Penny—”

“Can I make lunch please?” She whipped around, an irritated look on her face and a spatula in hand, looking like she was about to use it to beat them both, “I’m hungry and I want to die, I figure you’ll only allow me to fulfill one of those wants so can you let me cook?”

The next thing she knew, Penny had been swept up into Bucky’s arms. The solider looked confused, lips curled in frustration but his brow furrowed with dismay. She stiffened at the action when he stomped back to the couch and sat down roughly, dropping her over his knees and landing a smarting blow to her ass through her shorts without warning.

“Thirty for this fucking attitude,” he barked, yanking the shorts down until the waistband settled under the curve of her ass against the tops of her thighs, “count.”

A sharp inhale followed the first skin to skin hit and Penny snarled in response, “one.”

“Apologize,” Steve’s fingers tangled into her hair, extracting the hair tie and letting the curls fall in chaotic waves over her shoulders and face.

“Two,” she counted dutifully and angrily, narrowed eyes landing on Steve’s face, “I’m sorry you’re a fucking monster!”

“That just added ten more, Penny,” Bucky sighed through gritted teeth, “you better reign it in.”

“You better just kill me,” she rasped, nails digging into his leg where she was holding on for balance through the hits, “because I won’t reign it in. I’m sick to death of you motherfuckers—Oh, fuck, three!”

“No cursing during punishments, start from one,” Steve ordered darkly, the hand in her hair pulling taught as he glanced into Bucky’s eyes—the baffling combination of anger and dismay and loss in the brunet’s eyes let him know he wasn’t the only one scrambling.

“Fuck you!” Penny shook her head roughly as if to dislodge his hand, canting her head to the side the best she could manage to look him in the eye, “beat me black and blue, I don’t fucking care. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter anymore! Nothing fucking matters.”

content warnings: spanking *edit, addition content warning: disrespectful terminology for Jewish people

#steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #dark!fic

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

Ride

[Rio x Reader]

Word Count: 3.2k

“Alright, alright party people! Coming to the stage now is your girl, Candiiii!”

DJ Thundercat announces a dancer to the stage who sends the house into a frenzy. Lights dance across her body giving you mere snapshots of what she had going on before the glowing red spotlight revealed her deviant frame. The deep tones of her skin set a perfect backdrop for the light to catch. Her smile looked like fangs as she snaked around the stage, eyeing the crowd through the hordes of money raining in front of her. She shakes her Diana Ross-esque hair around to rev up the crowd even more.

You carry your drink tray back to the bar and lean back, enjoying the view.

“She’s a fucking sight, ain’t she?” The bartender, Jules says to you while popping open a can of Coke.

“Always. I don’t know how she does it every single time…” your voice trails as she climbs the pole, leaning back into a move called the Eye Opener. A guy in the front row looks like he wants to eat his chair, he’s so enraptured.

“Practice and passion is all it takes. And when your money is up, a good doctor doesn’t hurt,” Jules says before tapping your shoulder. “You know a drop is going down tonight.”

“Really?” you say with worry. “Is it the same guy as before or someone else?”

“Someone new. He may be working with the guy from before but since he got his job back as a cop he has to keep his nose a little cleaner.”

You snort. “Yeah right. So what is this guy's deal?”

Jules leans closer to you. “So you know Aviator? Last I heard, he is behind on some payments, plural! How he is still breathing is anybody’s guess but some dude named Rio is coming in with his crew to set up a payment plan.”

“Well that’s nice...right?”

Jules looks at you like you shat an egg. “Are you kidding me? That’s just code for curtains. Sleeping with the fishes. Giving him a Colombian necktie. That’s why I’m telling you in case something big goes down. Get your ass far away from the action as possible.”

You thank Jules as she sets a couple drinks on your tray for you to serve. You adjust your red fishnet stocking rolling down your thigh and head over to table 8.

“Thanks honey.” One middle aged balding man says, holding out a $10 bill.

You smile nice and wide and take hold of the bill, but he won’t let go.

“Does this get me to see a little of what those cups are holding in honey?” He palms your breast over your pleather cups before you could even clapback. So instead you clapped the back of his shiny noggin.

With the $10 in your possession, you push in down your cleavage. “If you like it rough, just ask. But if you like it hard, try again. If swallowing glass is your kink.” His partner applauds, laughing at his friends mishap.

You briskly walk away, heart pounding in your chest. You hate confrontation, but you refuse to be walked over in this business. Certainly not by some cheap regular who tips to get his ass beat by women.

You notice some figures entering in your peripheral. The front is too dark to see but there are several heads standing by which you find odd.

You find Jules for another drink order. “Hey, do you recognize those guys?”

Jules squints at them as they come forward. A stray light finds the face of one in the middle.

“Shit. I think that’s him. Rio.”

You look over but Jules pinches you. “Don’t call attention to yourself! Be stealthy about it.” She sets two more Cokes on your tray and shoos you away.

You walk more carefully than you regularly do, nervous about the new guests. You set the drinks down for the patrons who thank you and send you off. When you turn around you almost bump into a figure.

“Shit, sorry,” you say before freezing in place. This Latino dude with a neck tattoo peers at you like he was expecting you.

“No, it’s no problem. Excuse me will suffice.” His voice sounds like when you strained your voice at a concert the previous night, raspy and low.. You wait a minute for him to laugh or smile to let you know he is joking but enough time passed to tell you that wasn’t the case.

“Well...excuse…” You couldn’t bring yourself to the end of that phrase as you turned to walk away. Is this fool joking?

“You didn’t take my drink order, Ms. Waitress,” he calls out to you. Amazingly his low, gruff voice is very distinct over Megan thee Stallion playing in the background.

You walk up to him, looking him straight in his eyes. You can’t lie that it is impressive how his eyes trained on your never wavered elsewhere. Especially in a skin tight strapless one piece that hugged every curve like a straight jacket, how could he be so focused on a drink?

“Sure what can I get you?” you ask sharply.

“Don’t you need a pen and paper?” He asks.

“I’ll remember it,” you say with a slight slip of attitude.

His smile somehow does not break his stone glare. It actually warms his features like a hearth in the dead of winter. He must’ve been adorable as a child, you thought. That smile would make anyone spoil him.

“I’ll make it easy for you then. Get me and partners some top shelf whiskey, straight. Matter of fact, bring the bottle and some shot glasses.”

“We don’t serve alcohol, only Coke products. Where will you be sitting?” you ask, mouth turning dry.

He walks beside you, stopping just inches from your ear. “Bring it to VIP.”

You let out a heavy breath when his crew deserts you and head for Jules at the bar who is steaming.

“What did I say?” she hisses.

“I know! But he walked up on me! Look, he asked for alcohol. A bottle of whiskey for shots. What the hell do I do?”

Jules reaches under the counter, pulling out a brand new bottle of Johnny Walker and some clean shot glasses.

“For VIP we do, we just don’t advertise. And he is as VIP as it gets. Don’t do anything stupid. Girls have come out of their having done shit they couldn’t even talk to God about.”

Your heart dips at the thought of what could happen and your usually steady hands tremble under the weight of the bottle and glasses balancing on your tray. The velvet rope in front of the heavy curtains that lead to VIP is unlatched by a bodyguard who doesn’t even look at you: stoic as the Queen’s royal guard.you push open the curtain and see Rio sitting on the purple lounge couch, legs spread and posture relaxed. Everyone is quiet.

He looks at you, and only you. “There she is. Thanks for pulling this favor for me Ms. Waitress.”

He motions you over to him and you obey, laying the tray down on the glass table in front of him.

“Would you mind pouring it for me? My wrist ain’t what it used to be and that bottle is pretty heavy,” he says, rubbing it for emphasis.

He doesn’t come off as weak in any sense of the word, but you oblige his request. You give him a small smile and crack open the seal, filling the room with the glug of the bottle filling five shot glasses.

“You accept tips, right?” He asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out a roll of bills.

You stand there with your hands folded in front of you trying not to stare. “Well, if it’s offered.”

He nods slowly pulling a couple hundreds off. “I’ll give you this if you take these shots with me.”

He lays down the money on the tray and looks up at you waiting. You stutter anxiously.

“I-I thought you and-and your crew were drinking?”

“If we were, we would. But I like to keep them sober on the clock, so I figured we could indulge.” He picks up a glass of the brown liquor. “Sit down for me.”

You do so hesitantly, keeping mind to leave space between you and him. He picks up a glass and hands it to you.

“I...don’t hold my liquor well,” you confess.

“I don’t mind.” He lifts the glass to his lips, knocking his head back swiftly and firmly sets the emptied shot on the table.

“Do I have a choice here? We are shorthanded out there,” you lied, trying to see if any mercy was in his heart but he just stares. You can see his jaw tighten over your resistance, fist balling on the couch. Could he tell this wasn’t truthful? Whatever it took to get out of there, you had to do. The alcohol rushes down your throat a little too fast and although it was smooth, your windpipe just doesn’t agree with liquid going in it. You go into a mad coughing fit and slam the glass down.

“Shit, you aren’t good with alcohol for real,” Rio smiles again, making you relax a bit that he is satisfied.

Rio bobs his head to the music bumping faintly in the background. “You like this song?”

You shrug. “It’s cool.”

“You can dance if you want to. I don’t mind,” Rio leans back to wait for your answer. You think back to Jules and what Rio can do to people who offends him, but you decide to test something out.

“That’s gotta be an extra $300 on top of that.” You point at the money, anticipating his reaction.

Rio smirks. “$200 for a dance and $300 is you take another shot with me.”

You didn’t hesitate for the drink now, picking it up confidently and holding it up to him for a toast. He takes his, knocking it against yours with a strong tink. You down the shot this time without mishap and get ready to move.

You stand up with your legs widened, letting your hips sway in front of him for a good ass tease, looking back to check on him checking you. He still only looks at your face.

“You know this outfit isn’t for modesty,” you say turning to dip low in a squat while holding onto his knees, sliding your hands up his thighs.

He looks cool as ever with a half naked woman climbing on top of his lap. “I get the most out of someone when they look me straight in my eyes.”

You straddle his lap, feeling his chest, gripping his shoulders. You work your hips on him slowly.

“Shows honesty. I like that.” You play with his ear, feeling his muscle twinge from being ticklish there.

He shrugs. “Honest or not, I can tell when I’m being lied to. Like if someone is trying to screw me or screw with me.” His arms rest on the back of the couch instead of on your body, making you feel cold and awkward.

“Is that why you’re here? To meet a dishonest man.” You whisper in his ear, which must be his thing as you feel some extra friction beneath you rising.

Rio ignores you. “You got one more shot left for the $500.”

You shake your head. “You can have it. You can touch me too, you know. Perks of VIP.” You slide your hand down his bicep to pull his arm around you but he pulls back.

“Take the shot.” He says firmly. You stop your dance, reaching for the glass and tipping it back. You set it down haphazardly with a clatter, running our hands down his chest again. You weren’t at all phased by his tone, if anything it excites you, makes you clench a little. The heaviness of intoxication is setting in and you feel loose staring into his eyes. Your fingers graze his beard, his neck, summoning you to his cologne, maybe he will let you taste him there...

“Rio! Enjoying the sights I see!”

The new voice snaps you out of your mode as you fly off his lap to the side of him.

“Aviator. Nice of you to fly in.” Rio says. He looks at you and motions his finger for you to come closer. You do a mscooch, however your leg pulled over his lap is an added touch you don’t expect.

Aviator guffaws. “Good one! I was gonna offer you a drink but I see you got one so no need. On the house, of course.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I haven’t seen you since November,” Rio says, massaging your leg lightly, like you’re his pet.

“Well the business is slower in the cold months so hey what can you do.”

“The weather? You think that’s an excuse here? Do you even own one of them anorak jackets or something?” Rio asks you as you shake your head no instantly. You can feel his anger mounting on your leg as his fingers dig deeper in your skin.

“Still, it’s holidays and shit. Look we can talk about this, but let’s lose the audience, ok? Send your guys back and let the girl work.”

“She is working, very well might I add. So you must think I’m dumb.”

Aviator pauses, looking around the room. “I said we can talk about this privately. I have a plan. You, go bus some tables.”

“Get my money Aviator. You’re overdue.” He looked bored by this back and forth and ready to end it. Your body temperature drops when he looks like this.

Aviator stood there aghast. “You’re new here, so let me tell you something. You’re not going to embarrass me like this in front of my employees. Get your ass up!” Aviator grabs you by the arm harshly, you twist your ankle trying to keep up, falling to your knees.

You hear the sound of a gun cock as your ankle throbs

“Aviator, you embarrassed yourself by not paying me. You’re not the first nor will you be the last owner here so take a guess on what you’re about to do.”

You look up to see Aviator’s hands up and a Glock to his chest.

“Help Ms. Waitress here up and take her to my car so we can have that privacy you want.”

You try to get up yourself but Aviator already has you. “Rio, I still have my shift.”

“Aviator’s got you covered, right Avi?”

Aviator curses under his breath before agreeing out loud. You limp with him out to the Escalade waiting in the alley. You get in without saying a word as you watch Aviator walk back in, flanked by two of Rio’s goons. You lean back, elevating your foot on an arm rest until Rio comes out. When he gets in he tells the driver where to go, looking at you then your ankle.

“We gotta put ice on that soon.” Rio says nonchalantly, laying his arm behind your head..

“What happened to Aviator?” You ask quietly.

Rio looks you over. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not your problem”

You stare at the city passing you all by, getting dizzy from the motion and drinks earlier, you see Rio once more looking at your body.

“You have my $500?” You ask earnestly. “I didn’t pick it up back there.”

Rio smirks, looking out his window. “This courtesy ride is nice, right?”

“I didn’t tell you where I lived.”

“Do you wanna go home?” He asks, piercing his gaze into you. They feel like they are daring you to say yes, go away, danger ahead and reroute.

“No. Is it because I didn’t finish the dance? Cuz that wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh yeah, about that. I was offering you an exit there. Go out on the floor, do what you gotta do but the lap dance was very nice.”

You laugh out loud. “What?! You didn’t tell me to stop! What’s wrong with you, so I did that for nothing?”

Rio licks his lips examining you. “Not for nothing. You’re wilder than I thought, and I don’t think that’s the whiskey.”

You cross your arms in a huff. “I wanted the money. And of course you never acted against it so…”

Rio wags a finger at you. “I appreciate that. Going for what you want. You got a business head on you. I like that.”

The ride grows quiet as you survey this man. He acts like an OG despite his age, running a tight operation with his goons. Even in this car not knowing where you are going after he pulls a gun on your boss, you feel safe with him beside you. But you had to know what made him tick.

You pull yourself on top of him, kissing him needily, tearing at his neck for his shirt button.

Rio talks through your kisses, gripping your curls in his hands. “Is this what whiskey does to you?”

You lean back, opening his shirt. “I want my money. And if I have to teach you to give it to me, I will.”

Rio’s hands feel across your back and ass and you shiver at the sensation. “I admit, I am a little hardheaded.”

“I’m very very strong willed” You lock onto his mouth once more, tasting the liquor you both shared, running your hands along the front of his pants to find the zipper. It felt so right as his hands guided your hips along his lap, pushing you on your back across the seat.

------

The next morning you wake up in a sea of blankets and pillows, head throbbing as you stare at the late morning sun.

“You get some rest, Ms. Waitress?” Rio stands at the doorway of the bedroom with his hands in his pockets.

You try to sit up but your head won’t stop rolling. “God I feel awful.”

“You look it too.” Rio says, walking up to your side of the bed. “Wore me out last night.”

You keep the sheets close to your naked chest with regret. “I can’t believe this. Did we…”

Rio pauses a little too long before saying, “Nah, you complained you were dizzy and puked all over my backseat. Taking your clothes was just part of the clean up. Had to dock that from your pay unfortunately but got some daytime looks over there if you need.” Rio points to a tshirt and sweats laying on a chair.

You weren’t about to argue with a gangster over money in his own house, especially if you fucked up his car. “Thanks, I’ll get ready to go immediately.”

“Ah don’t sweat it. Oh, and your cut is in the sweatpants pocket. Hope you get something nice with it.”

“Wait, did you...kill him?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Who?” Walking towards the door he says one more thing. “And, I would keep in touch if I were you. There’s more where that came from if you’re willing to go after what you want full time. I’ll see you around.”

When Rio leaves, you get up to put on the shirt and pants, reaching into the pocket. Magically your $500 became $5,000. You let out some choice curse words as you thumbed through the bills, thinking back on last night. Being on your best behavior never paid this good. And Rio piqued your curiosity enough to see what being bad felt like.

Masterlist

Tag

@chaneajoyyy

#rio fanfic #rio x reader #shakafic

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

The Freedom of Being Yours

This was a commission done for the wonderful @creativecilla Im so excited that its finally done and I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for commissioning me and putting up with all my questions lol.

Pairing: Reds/Blossick (Brick x Blossom)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Word Count: 7.8k (this was meant to be a 1k fit but I couldn’t resist!)

Angst/Fluff

Note: thank you to my betas for all their help: @over-under-through1 and @avesthetea

---

On November 17, 1898, early in the morning, a baby girl was born. A soft tuft of red hair rested on her temple and instead of a shrill cry, only a smile was on her small little lips. The only word to define the pink-eyed darling was perfection. There was nothing that could dull the light that sparkled in her eyes.

At the beginning of the year, where she would turn five, everything had been fine. She got to sit and play with her two younger sisters and listen to them babble about nothing as the small creek in the back of their house flowed softly over the rocks.

Life was delicate and sweet. Her mother and father would adore her with presents and toys and even the occasional jewel, yet they often found her perched under a tree or hidden at the creek with a book, much too big for anyone her age to be reading.

Blossom had thought about the stories of travel and adventure. It was freeing and delightful and she had once believed that she and her sisters would live those same lives, of their own deciding. She wanted to see the world and not the same backdrop of her tiny town. Her life would be filled with all sorts of adventures.

But she had been wrong.

Instead of playing outside, she was forced into the study with books that didn’t spark her imagination like the ones before. Her mother was keen on her looking her best and forced her ginger hair into a tightly pulled ponytail or braid and her father wanted her to be enlightened but only because she was the oldest and he didn’t have the luxury of a son.

Just a little before her fifth birthday, she had taught herself to read high literature and how to write complex sentences and even beat out her father in a game of chess. She had also learned from a young age that she would not have the freedom of her sisters, a hard pill to swallow for such a young girl.

♥♥

As the candles became lit on her fifth birthday, everything changed. She was allowed a very small group of friends, yet she hadn’t recognized the boy coming over to her table. He said nothing as he set the pretty pink present down with everything but amusement. His frown was consistent throughout the night and although most noticed his attitude, Blossom couldn’t help but stare at his eyes.

They were the shade of a freshly cut ruby and just as stone cold. Through the blank stares of all the attendants, his was by far the most interesting. They rivaled and complemented the majestic pink of her own iris’s.

He hadn’t said anything to her until he found her sitting away from the party, hidden behind the house with a book open. He thought she had been weird, what little girl missed her own party? He should have turned around but he found himself standing in front of her, toes almost touching.

“You can read?” He blurted out and the soft color of pink graced his presence.

Blossom looked up and her eyebrows drew in. “Taught myself.” She spoke proudly and was slightly surprised when he sat down next to her. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and held her eye roll. “Because it's my party.”

The boy shrugged. “Fair enough. It’s Brick.”

“Brick.” She whispered to herself. “Why did you come out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?”

He glanced towards the creek. “Shouldn’t the birthday girl be entertaining her guests?”

She closed her book before getting up and smoothing out her light pink dress. “I suppose.” He got up and followed her to the house.

Before they reached the porch, they could hear the commotion from inside and Brick noticed the annoyance on Blossom’s face but chose not to say anything. Even with their young age, they both knew not to speak up and out.

As they walked through the entrance of the house, Brick spotted a chess set in a smaller room off to the side. He gently tugged on her sleeve making her turn as he nodded towards the board.

“You play?” He asked and she only smirked and picked up a piece.

“I'm the best.” She challenged, and soon they were engaged in a long game of chess, ignoring the rest of the party.

Her eyes sparkled as she picked up a piece, her shoulder straightened as she looked into his eyes.

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked and for the first time that night, his lips turned up into a small smile as he reset the board.

♥♥

The older Blossom got, the tougher her parents were. The yelling and the scolding had become so much that when it occurred, she had learned to take it with a stoic face and never let her lips quiver even as she was breaking inside.

The demands to be perfect in every aspect had led her to be a sufficient dancer, baker, and everything else a lady was meant to do. From the time the sun rose to its setting, she was given a constant stream of scolding which left little time with her sisters

She had thought that she had become a master of hiding her emotions when she had turned fifteen. Her mind was taken over by books and knowledge she found rather useless. The friends she had were more of annoyances as she kept to herself most of the time. If she wasn’t using the same three books to escape her life, she was down by the creek or walking along the rose gardens of her family's estate.

It wasn’t until a random visit by Brick's family got her attention. She came down the stairs and saw him standing there, his brothers already out in the back paying her sisters attention. It had been a few years since she saw him at a summer party, they had played chess for most of it but other than that, their friendship was surface level at best.

“Brick.” She said as kindly as she possibly could praying that he didn’t notice the redness around her eyes and the flush of her cheeks.

He gave her a slight nod. “Blossom.”

She noticed that he had grown taller, just a few inches over her and that puberty was treating him well. Even though he looked slightly unrecognizable, those eyes of crimson were still the same.

Without another word spoken between them, they followed their parents to the living room that had a grand fireplace. She took her seat next to her mother on the couch, just opposite of Brick who rested in an armchair near his father. A chill ran down her spine as she knew what they would be discussing. Brick tried to catch her eye, maybe to go for a game of chess or to the book room but she avoided him just as her mother spoke up.

“I think now is as good as anytime to discuss this.” Her mother said and Brick’s parents agreed.

“Blossom, Brick. After her eighteen birthday, you will be married by spring.” Blossom’s father said sternly.

She felt her body go rigid as the words flooded her mind. Slowly her eyes made their way to Brick’s. He was also frozen and his lips were pulled into a tight line. She could see the way his fists clenched the chair and her soul nearly left her body when he met her gaze.

She tried searching his face for any form of emotion. Anger, sadness, whatever he was feeling, he wasn’t going to show it. But for some reason, her heart sank when he stood and nodded before excusing himself and leaving the room.

Blossom’s mother turned towards her. “You should go.” She said coldly before turning back towards the others. She stood with silence and left.

She found him in the kitchen. A glass of water in his hand and him looking out the window. It was clear as day that he was angry and upset. She couldn’t blame him. Every aspect of their lives had been planned out and she was a fool to expect that she would marry for love.

His shoulder became tense as she stood next to him, taking a glass for herself. They were silent, what could you say? It was a hard pill to swallow at their age and it seemed as if the threads of their personal freedoms were being cut faster and faster.

As much as Blossom abided by her parents wishes, she knew deep down, this was where lines were drawn. She took a deep breath as she looked out the window. She saw her little sister, Bubbles, running after a dragonfly while Buttercup pushed Brick’s brother down. Brick’s blonde brother watched Bubbles spin and laugh and smiled with her.

Blossom watched and her own smile came to her face. The image of her little sisters marrying someone they loved and cherished, melted her heart but reality came back to her as she glanced towards Brick.

“You’re free to go.” She whispered, his head snapping towards her and meeting the pink eyes.

“What?” He asked.

“I won’t force you to be mine. No matter our parents wishes, you are free to do as you please.”

He let out a dry laugh. “You know that’s not possible.”

“Maybe not.” She felt her tears coming but pushed them down. “We can be, or well, we will be married but you do not have to give your heart over to me, I won’t be angry.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”

Blossom looked away and back to her sisters. “You are free to do as you please. Court any lady you seem fit. My parents might hold you by a chain but I won’t. All I ask is that by the time we are to be wed, nothing is shown to the public to cause a scene or you find a way out.”

Brick thought about it before finishing his drink. “Same to you.” He extended his hand to her and she nodded before shaking it and sealing their deal.

He eyed the front room. “Game of chess?” He smirked.

“Don’t get mad when I beat you.” She matched his expression before passing him and heading to set up their board.

♥♥

As months rolled on, Brick was at Blossom’s estate more and more. Their parents were so content with them being together that parties would be hosted almost every other week, and when Blossom turned sixteen, they had announced the engagement.

They each were given a ring that would be exchanged at the wedding. She stayed up that night, tossing and turning in her bed as she held the box. The golden band that was meant for him was stunning to the random eye but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Unlike the pristine gold, it looked like a rusted chain one would put on a prisoner. It didn’t scream beauty or wealth to her but mocked her like a dog left in the rain. She had thought about going into town and meeting with other potential suitors, maybe even rekindling a few friendships from her younger years, but the further she fantasized about falling in love, the more pain was brought to her heart.

The days after her sixteenth birthday had left her with nothing but a hollow heart and false realities. It became very clear that she would hurt herself more in the process of finding her heart than to sit quietly. She closed the ring box and put it into her desk and wiped away her bitter tears.

There was no point in wishing on stars if they all died and fell from the sky.

----

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked as she placed the final piece on the chess board.

Brick only scoffed before rearranging the pieces, another game after another. Chess and checkers was a small escape from their harsh reality. He made a move and then she did hers. Back and fourth is how it went. By the fourth game, they had an even score and her eyes would find the window again.

She didn’t know if Brick had started looking around for other girls in secret but she didn’t bother to ask, it didn’t matter anyways. As he made a move, she studied his face. He was handsome no doubt and extremely smart too. One of the only people to match her in everything and there was a sense of comfort in knowing she could quote something from a book and he would match it without hesitation. She knew he wouldn’t have a problem finding a partner to keep him company, it would be better that way.

“Bet the creek is cold.” He said randomly and brought her from the wild thoughts.

Her eyes met his and she only placed her piece down gently. “I wouldn’t know.” She quipped. She had never once let herself go into the small river, she could only imagine the uproar her mother would have if she found her doing something fun.

Brick looked towards the clock before standing. “Our parents are still in town for another two hours, even if they leave now.” She hadn’t understood what he was asking before he held his hand out.

Her eyes widened at the thought of her disobeying her parents orders and yet her fingers wrapped around his and soon she was running behind him towards the hidden creek on the east side of the house. The wind wrapped through her long hair and she felt like she could breathe clearer than ever before.

Giggles escaped her lips as he jumped down from the path and onto the small bank before turning and kicking off his shoes. She looked around to see an easier way to get down. Her dress would cause problems if she were to jump and she was scared of hurting herself.

Brick saw the hesitation in her and stepped forward with his arms stretched out.

“Blossoms just jump.” He said before widening his stance to show he would catch her.

Her eyes widened at the statement. “No, I can’t.” Her voice shook and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on. I promise I’ll catch you.”

She gulped. “Promise” And when he nodded, she believed him. His small smile gave her ease and Blossom took off her flats before tossing them down next to his.

She took a breath before letting her feet come off the ground. Right as a small scream left her lips, she felt a sensation she had never encountered before. This idea and embodiment of immunity came over her as she leapt. She felt like nothing bad could ever happen as she fell into his arms with ease.

A strange embrace of warmth she never quite experienced rushed through her as he tightened his hold on her, carrying her like a precious flower.

“Hey.” He whispered, his voice never being this soft as her eyes opened to see the swirl of red closer than before. Her breath had caught in her throat as he had a smile on. He rarely smiled but when he did, she thought it was the most enchanting thing she had ever seen. “See? Caught you.”

A laugh came out as he began to walk and she buried her face into his neck, praying that he didn’t drop her. “Don’t let me go.” She warned him and she felt the vibration of his laugh.

“Relax. Open your eyes.” He whispered in her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was him looking at her. The sun glowed behind him like some sort of halo and her breath caught in her throat when he gave her a smile. She hadn’t realized just how many freckles kissed his skin in the summer sun and she blinked and brought herself back from getting lost in his eyes.

She gazed at the surroundings and saw that his feet had disappeared into the shallow water. Slowly she stretched her legs out until she felt the cool water kiss the tips of her toes. It had shocked her slightly as she forced her foot into the water to stand with him, his arm still around her waist as she held the rim of her dress to not let it get soaked.

“It's cold.” She giggled and she took a step and felt the slippy feeling of the rocks below her. Slowly she walked out of his grasp and carefully went further.

“Don’t slip.” He called from behind as he followed.

Blossom smiled to herself as she looked at the water and saw small fish swimming around. She had never known what flowers grew along the bank or how the breeze was stronger down here.

Her eyes found the clouds rolling above them and she took a step before she felt her foot slid up and found herself falling backwards.

“Ahh-” She let out before she felt the familiar pair of arms holding her up just above the water.

“Told ya to be careful Pink.” He smirked and she only rolled her eyes as he lifted her up and carried her towards the bank.

“I could walk ya know.” She protested but his grip tightened as he stepped over a few small logs and set her onto the sand.

“You would fall again.” He laughed before it fell into the normal frown. “We should head back before our parents return.

The sensation of immunity had faded as she grabbed her shoes and followed him back towards the house which felt colder than the water. That night she laid awake in her bed. The ceiling texture mimicked the way the ripples on the water’s surface and she hugged her blanket to her chest as she kept the memory of joy in secret. It was the first thing her parents couldn’t take from her.

♥♥

After that moment at the creek, the pair began to sneak off more and more as their parents went to town. The chess board was left untouched as they ran towards the river or found hidden garden spots.

It was liberating even if it was as simple as blowing the fuzz off a dandelion. They would run and twirl in the fields, playing like two small children on a summer's day before they fixed their hair and returned to their chess board, keeping their outings a secret.

She learned about his dreams and his deepest fears. Sailing the world and snakes, to be exact. She showed him how to braid his hair and when he wasn’t looking, she would place small flowers in between the strands.

For some reason every time she saw his family arriving at the gates or her own going to his estate, she felt ecstatic. Maybe it was because he was the only one in her world who understood her but even through the sarcastic statements or small taunts, she enjoyed spending time with him more and more.

♥♥

Another year passes by and then another. And before the new set of snow could fall, it was her eighteenth birthday.

She stood in her mirror, still looking at the crack she made all that time ago. She pushed away any thoughts that damn crack dared to resurface and care more about fixing her hair. Pulling her long waves into a ponytail, she wrapped her red ribbon around it. Out of all the jewels and fancy items, this simple silk was her most prized possession. A reminder of her happier days when she was little.

Her pink gove fit her like a perfect chiffon glove and she had to admit that she looked beautiful. She never took much pride in her vanity but on occasion, she would spoil herself with an indulging complement.

A deep breath was taken as she left her room and walked slowly to the stairs where a house full of guests awaited. As soon as her foot hit the bottom of the stairs, a round of applause filled the room and it took her a second to realize that they were clapping for her. Pink dusted her cheeks as she gave a small curtsity and was pulled in every which way to be congratulated on another year of life.

Like her other parties, she barely knew the people there and most were well above her age. She took herself to the ballroom where many guests had already taken up the floor and were spinning and laughing as the music played.

A tap was on her shoulder and she felt relieved knowing that he was here but her heart sank as it was someone she hardly recalled.

“Blossom.” He smiled politely and held out his hand.

Her smile was pulled into a thin line as she took his hand, her mother taught her never to decline a dance. He pulled her closer than what she had liked and smiled at her again.

“Jared.” She said through gritted teeth as she did her best not to groan. She remembered him from random encounterings at other parties. Loud and obnoxious and arrogant, yet he didn’t have the brains to back any of it up. He liked to bother Blossom on occasion and unfortunately, now was the time.

His hand rested on her back, lower than what should have been acceptable. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they danced.

“Ya know Blossom, I heard about your engagement.Congrats”

“That was announced years ago.’ She said sharply. As they danced, she saw Brick across the room. He was dancing with some girl she hadn’t seen.

The girl laughed loudly as she pulled him closer and Blossom couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or not, but after the third eye roll, she predicted the latter. Something inside her felt odd as she watched her move her hand to his neck and whisper something.

In a flash, as if he knew, Brick turned his head and their eyes locked. She watched as his eyes narrowed slightly before Jared took her ungiven attention.

Jared chuckled. “And yet he’s dancing with another woman.” He leaned in so that only she could hear what he said next. “You still have a few months until the wedding and no one has seen you two being all that close.” He smirked. “I’d doubt he’d mind.” And she felt his hand travel lower.

Blossom gasped and pushed herself off of him. “Are you out of your mind?” She sneered before lifting her hand and bringing it to his cheek. The sound echoing across the room for everyone to hear and suddenly all eyes were on her and the boy holding his cheek. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I offer you a good time and this is what I get?” Jared scoffed.

Blossom huffed before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She glanced to the side to see Brick next to her. He looked angry and annoyed.

“I suggest you apologize to her.” Brick stated.

Jared’s eyes widened in fear. “Look man I didn’t mean anything towards your girl.” he held his hands up in defense.

Brick took a step forward. He was clearly a few inches taller and a bead of sweat formed on Jareds forehead. He looked down on the now shaking boy. “The fact that you think I would be entitled to her is foolish. No matter her status or anything personal, you don’t just force yourself on a woman or anyone for that matter. So I would be on my knees begging for forgiveness.” He took him by the collar. “And if you ever disrespect my future wife again, I’ll throw you to the wolves.”

Jared’s face turned a sickly white color as Brick removed his hands from him and took a step towards Blossom.

“My apologies Blossom.” Jared looked at his feet.

A smile came onto Blossom’s face. “Get out.” She hissed before turning and holding her head up high. She passed a butler. “The party is done.”

“Of course Miss.” The butler said as he started to escort the guests to the front of the house.

Blossom passed her parents without an explanation and headed outside where the sun had begun to set. All she wanted to do was clear her head as she rested against a random wall. She brought her hand up to her hair and let the long waves fall around her shoulders. Tears threatened to spill but she didn’t want any of that.

“I never got a dance.”

Blossom looked to see Brick standing there.

“What?” She questioned. “Oh. Sorry.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t worry. Sorry your party got cut short but nice punch.”

She forced a smile while staring at her hand. “Thanks, he deserved it.”

“Without a doubt.”

She saw that his elastic was around his wrist and his hair was down and out of place. Without thinking, she took it and began to braid his hair. He didn’t say anything but let her do as she pleased. She got to the end and saw the small bush of white daisies and grabbed one, plopping it into his hair and standing back in front of him.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

A cooler breeze came by making her hold her arms. “Um, thanks for standing up for me.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He shrugged and saw the saw she shivered slightly. He took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. “But I guess you could make it up with a dance?” He held out his hand and she took it.

“I didn’t think you wanted one.” She said lightly She went back to the girl who had kept him occupied all night. She was gorgeous no doubt and even from across the room, Blossom could tell she was drowning in wealth.

Brick narrowed his eyes before he caught on. Realization flooded his face as he spun Blossom. “You mean Princess.” He sounded disgusted to say the least.

“I guess. Friend of yours?”

“A fling in the past if you could even call it that.”

“Oh.” Her voice just above a whisper. “She seems nice.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, Blossom coming back from the spin and her chest flush against his. “I wouldn’t call bragging about her dad's money nice. More of an air head that got lucky to be born into money. She can’t even play chess.”

“But she’s pretty.” She mumbled.

Brick moved his hand from her upper back to her lower back and leaned until his lips touched her ear. “Beauty isn’t everything, I prefer depth.” Suddenly she was spun and her back to his chest. “But I think your beauty beats all.”

Her cheeks heated up and she brushed away the compliment. “Depth can get you in trouble.” She responded just as she faced him again. “Pretty things can give you money...freedom too.”

He lifted her arm and she spun under him. He then closed their gap before dipping her gracefully. “Sometimes freedom is right where you are.” He spoke sincerely and when she came back up, he was barely a inch away. His eyes had softened and the way his lips turned into a smile made her heart beat rapidly.

The way he looked at her, was almost canny to the day at the creek. Something within her was pulling her closer to him like a magnet and she couldn’t bear to stop herself.

“I’d never let another man talk to you like that, I promise.” He said softly.

And then she did the unthinkable and kissed him. It was a magnifying spark that coursed through her body and broke down whatever wall she had been holding. But when she realized what she had done, an uncertain silence froze over them and saw the way his eyes widened in what she could only sense as fear.

“I-I’m sorry-” She tried to say but was cut off by his lips coming to hers again. Her hands fell to his shoulders, one cupping his cheek as he pulled her closer. His lips were soft and it was like time had stopped in that moment. Everything bad that had happened in the past, melted away like the snow bringing in a spring she never knew she craved.

His lips were soft and left a cold longing feeling as he pulled away, nose brushing hers. “You never have to apologize, I am yours.”

The tears she was going to shed in anger had turned to pure bliss but as she was about to confess her heart to him, the door opened and she heard the loud shouting of her mother.

Fear sunk in as she watched her mother come from the corner. “Blossom.” She said with spitfire and Brick’s hold tightened on her. “You two are done.” She snapped.

“What?” Blossom shook in his hold.

“Jared’s father said he wouldn’t press charges in exchange for Blossom’s hand.” She smiled wickedly. “I’m sorry Brick, you’re a nice boy but sometimes life isn’t fair and plus, he has more money. The wedding is off.” Her mother spat and left leaving Blossom and Brick with mouths hanging open in shock.

Brick held her. “Blossom?”

“I can’t marry him.” She shook her head.

When his eyes met hers, his heart broke. The bright pink he had grown fond of over the years had seen to fade. It was replaced by a stone cold gaze that only broke on occasion.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “You won’t. I promise.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Blossom!” Her mother's voice called. “Come here!”

They looked towards the call and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She started to walk. “But for the record, you made the darkest corners of this house feel bright.”

Brick stood in the garden frozen as she left. His own eyes betraying him as tears danced on his waterline. He heard his own name being called behind him. He returned to his parents side, still feeling the spark of the kiss lingering on his lips.

♥♥

She closed the door to her room before she turned until her back was pressed against the wood. Slowly she slid down and hugged her knees to her chest. The tears that came came from an emotion she had never experienced before. As if all the breath in her lungs was gone, she sobbed.

She lost count of the amount of times she had sat with no light but moons and sobbed. The pain her parents had caused her. The insults and ridicule, all of it would be gone by the time the sun would kiss the horizon but this, this cold chill that made her feel hopeless. It was far worse than their taunts.

The way Brick had stared at her. His eyes slightly wide as if he was shocked by how she looked. His expression when he saw her had changed over the years and she wished she had noticed sooner.

But now it is gone. Her parents made sure of that. It was all a game. Her parents had laid out their chess board, counting their moves and every time she felt like she had a chance, she was forced back into her corner as they picked up the piece and moved it themselves.

But for that split second that she looked into his eyes, the game had stopped. The old grandfather clock that hung on the wall had silenced its ticking and she, for however long she got to gaze into those crimson eyes, saw freedom.

And now it is gone. The small gleam of light she saw within him had been extinguished before it had a chance to grow into a blooming fire.

“Blossom?” A voice called behind her.

She picked up her head and whimpered.

“Blossy?” Another voice said again and she brought her hand to her eyes as she stood with shaking legs and opened the door. Bubbles and Buttercup stood with concerning looks before walking in and shutting the door.

“Blossy-” Bubbles hugged her tight. “Why are you crying?” She asked with her own sadness.

The last thing Blossom wanted was her sisters to be upset, so she shook her head and forced a smile that they didn’t buy at all. “I’m okay.”

“Clearly not. What happened?” Buttercup asked as they sat Blossom on the bed. “The party ended all of a sudden and no one knows why. Was it because of Brick?”

“No!” Blossom reassured her. “It wasn’t his doing.”

“Oh, then why are you upset? Did he not want to be with you?” Bubbles hugged her.

Blossom hugged her back. “No. He did. And I wanted to marry him too.”

“But?” Buttercup asked.

Blossom took a deep breath. “Mother decided that another man would be better for me, one that I don’t love. It’s a hard pill to swallow but I’ll be okay.” She tried to be strong.

“That’s not fair!” Bubbles weeped. “Blossy you deserve to be happy.”

Buttercups fists tightened at her side. “It's not.” She got off the bed. “Come on Bubbles, Blossoms had enough tears for the night.”

Blossom gave her little sisters a smile as they left.

♥♥

The next week was spent with Blossom walking slower than she noticed to her parents office. Her face was almost permanently puffy from the tears she had shed for the few days and neither of her parents had given any care. She was sitting at her mother's desk, silent and still. There was no reason to scream and run, hope had been lost.

“Look at that.” her mother quipped as she passed a piece of golden paper to her.

She picked it up and her blood ran cold.

‘An invitation to Princess and Brick’s wedding, how lovely.” Her mother smiled.

Blossom could see it now. The couple saying their vows and dancing the night away and she wondered if he had the choice to run away, would he? She had learned that Princess was an heir to more money this town had seen and quite beautiful too.

“She’ll make him happy.” Blossom lied knowing that she shouldn’t discredit his feelings. Afterall depth was what he liked most. “I wonder what’s that like?”

“What?”

“Happiness.” Blossom said. Her mother met her eyes. “Are you a happy mother?”

“Happiness comes in many forms.”

“And yet the only time I’ve seen you smile, is when it comes from the suffering of me or my sisters. You were given the sweetest little girls who offer nothing but unconditional love but instead of basking in their own light, you chose to block it out. I hope that when they are old enough, they never have to face the same life as mine.”

“You live in this gorgeous house-”

“With no heart or warmth. Vacant like a ghost town. How could you be proud of something so grand, yet broken at the seams? I am thankful for the upbringing on the fairer side of this society but I wish I had the love others have. Sometimes I wonder if a golden spoon is really worth more than a hug.”

Her mother stared coldly. “Do you think happiness gets you far in this world? Do you think that I spent years building up my reputation to be disrespected by my daughter?”

“There is no disrespect because I don’t see you as my mother and I would rather die tomorrow knowing I was in the presence of someone I love then spend the rest of my years, trapped to a man who could care less about my heart.” Blossom stood and grabbed the invitation and stood.

A cold dark laugh came from her mother. “Life isn’t a fairytale. You think that anyone would want to marry you out of love? Even if you are smart enough to know that, he’s going to wed by the end of the week. You have no money, and nothing to offer. What good would it be to beg?” Her mother stood and came towards her, arms stretched out. “Darling, just make life easier for everyone.”

Blossom took a step back. Her shoulder straightened up and she held her head high. “Thats where you’re wrong, mother. I can offer him my heart, something only I can give.”

“Love can’t give you everything.” She spat.

Blossom shook her head and offered a sympathetic smile. “I wish you knew that love can give you freedom and joy even with despair around.” She turned and began walking, her mother not bothering to follow or stop her.

♥♥

Blossom stared at her ceiling, a small white daisy in her hand as she tried to think of what to do. She hardly heard her door open and the shuffle of two sets of shoes.

“Bubbles, Buttercup? It's late, you should be in bed.”

“Shhh. Be quiet.” Bubbles smiled.

“You should go to him.” Buttercup said and Bubbles handed her a bag.

“He loves you and you love him Blossy!”

Blossom sighed. “I can’t just stop his wedding.”

Buttercup laughed. “Sure you can. Go in there and confess your love for him.”

Bubbles nodded. “Or you should meet him before. Run away with him, far from this place.”

Blossom looked between her sisters before they hugged her.

“We will be fine, please just go.”

“Okay.” Blossom agreed.

♥♥

Brick stood in the mirror. His suit was pristine and fit for any king and although he looked fine, deep down he was full of dread.

The moment Blossom’s parents called off their engagement, his own parents wasted no time looking for a suitor. Out of some convenience, Princess hadn’t been engaged and her father was loaded beyond belief that when the opportunity presented itself, his family jumped on it.

He didn’t know if he could ever truly love Princess and she probably wouldn’t love him but he knew there were worse things in life that could happen. Except for the heartbreak that came with the ring. His own brothers couldn’t get through to him and he felt hopeless. How do you go from loving someone, to never seeing them again?

There was a knock on his door and it made him shiver.

“Come in.” He said and the door opened just as soft as the knock.

He turned around to see Blossom standing there. A content look on her face as she looked him over, the desperation clear in her eyes. “You look nice.” She said and he could tell her voice was on the verge of breaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“To see you, one last time.” She said. She walked towards him and adjusted his skewed tie. “Or maybe not.” Her hands rested on his chest.

“Maybe not?”

She gazed at him with glassy eyes. “When they announced our engagement, I thought I lost any hope of freedom I had left. I thought that you would resent me for being chained to you and that's why I told you that you could leave. And I tried to tell myself not to fall in love because it wouldn’t be fair or it would hurt too much.” She stepped back. “But when I cried myself to sleep or stared at the moon until the sun came up, I realized that in those moments I tried to stop, I was falling faster than I anticipated.”

Brick watched as she took something from her bag. “I think I did too.”

She giggled at that. “When I read all those books about true love and how you see stars in the other person's eyes, I look at you and I see happiness and bliss.” Tears dripped down her cheeks slowly. “Even in the darkest corners of my house, I found indulgence and light with you.” Blossom said.

Brick brought his hand to her cheek, wiping the tears away. “I have spent years pondering these feelings. Wondering what else my parents could take from me. They could take my spirit and my time. Steal my childhood of playing in the creek or chasing the fireflies but Miss Blossom.” He took her hand. “They might have thought that forcing you upon as my wife without a moment of thought would be the cruelest thing they could do, but taking you away was pure anguish.”

Brick shook his head with a dry laugh. “It was the creek, when we had escaped for just a short while. When you stood on that ledge and jumped into my arms, I don’t know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes sparkled when you stepped in the water and everything after that-” He stopped to gather his thoughts but she placed her hand on his arm.

“I know it’s selfish of me to ask you this as there is another waiting for you hand downstairs. Although I can’t give you the same welah or land she may be able to provide. I give you my heart and my faith. Every fragment of my being is dedicated to you and all I can ask is if you could accept that of me? If you could choose to follow your heart and give me the honor of loving you for who you are, would you?” She asked as she held out the small box that contained the golden band that was meant for him.

He looked up at her, pure adoration on his face as he kissed her hand. “I give my heart to you. The most suitable woman for me is not one with money or a legacy for her parents to uphold. But a kind and innocent lady who has a mind full of knowledge and dreams. On your command, I will take you far from this place, away from the criticism of our family and give you a life where you can run free and have every opinion of your very own. I promise that you will never spend another cold night wondering what lies beyond the paths of the forest and I promise you that I will love you, not because I am forced but because I choose to.”

“I choose you too.” She sobbed as he took her by the waist and kissed her.

He felt her smile against his lips and that same magnetic spark that came the first time they had kissed returned in an instant. Their kiss was more magical than the first snowfall of the season or that of a shooting star.

They pulled away and she saw the way his eyes looked brighter than they ever had before, like a new life had instantly sparked. He took her hand and threw off his tie.

“Come on, I know a place we can go.” He said with a giant smile.

Without gestation she followed him, leaving her past behind and welcoming the new warmth of her life. They ran from the back of the church to his parked car down by the field and he helped her in and kissed her again and again.

‘I love you.” She whispered in between his lips capturing hers.

“I love you more, Blossom.”

As the key sparked the car to life, and they drove to who knows where, she glanced at him and saw not only freedom, happiness and bliss but a man who loved her for every aspect of her being. Something no one could ever take from her again.

“Say Princess is going to be really pissed.” He laughed.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “I told Jared that there was a hot rich girl at the church.”

Brick chuckled and slid his arm around Blossom’s shoulder. “That solves that problem.”

♥♥

Three months later

“Checkmate.” Blossom smiled proudly as she took the final piece. Normal Brick would scoff or playfully pout but instead the competitive side wasn’t showing.

He stared at her longingly as she began to set up a new game.

“It’s almost like you let me win.” She glared. “Is something wrong?”

Brick chuckled and shook his head. “No. everything is perfect.” He stood and walked over to her side of the table and kneeled down and took her hands away from the chess board.

“Brick?”

“You’ve always been better at chess then me. Even if we tied, I knew your strategy was beyond compare. However, no matter how many times you take my pawns or steal my queen, I already won.”

“You already won?” She questioned with a laugh.

She watched him reach into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Its golden latch was opened to reveal a pink pearl ring. A gasp escaped her lips as he took out the ring.

“Blossom, there's not enough words or love stories to perfectly say how I feel about you. All I know is that I love you, on our own terms and see you as someone greater than the world knows. If you will do my honor, Blossom, will you marry me?” He asked.

“Of course.” She cried out and slipped the ring onto her finger as she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. He smiled against her lips and lifted her up, carrying her to the small couch in their small home.

It wasn’t grand or had a ballroom. There was no elegant garden or parties thrown. Instead it was cozy and full of a loveable warmth. It rivaled everything they were taught, yet it gave them a happiness only the lucky could have.

“Hey.” She whispered. “I found something the other day.” She jumped up and grabbed his hand. He followed her to the backyard that seemed to stretch for miles.

The sun was high in the sky as they walked along the dirt path through some trees. Bushes of daisies and roses grew wild along the path and they stopped at the edge.

He looked down and his smile grew bigger. “A creek.”

She playfully hit his shoulder. “Just like old times.”

Brick found his way down to the bank, kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt to the ground. He looked up at the ledge where Blossom was standing with sunbeams shining behind her. His arms extended and without thinking twice, she jumped and landed securely.

“Don’t slip” She mocked as he carried them to the water.

Brick laughed at her tone and gently set her down. His hands around her waist as they stared at each other. Pink and red complimented against the shallow water of the creek. He kissed her cheek and pulled the red ribbon, making the long trails of her hair blow free in the summer breeze.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you more.” She responded and kissed him, her ring sparkling underneath the light.

She had spent all of her childhood reading books with the grand fairy tail ending. The ones every little girl dreamed of. For the longest time, she had stopped believe that they could be true. But as she stared into the eyes of the person she loved and cherished most, it was as if the stars had alined and the book she never thought would be written, was now opening with a brand new chapter of love and hope.

♥♥

I hope you enjoyed!!

asks/requests/commissions open!

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trojantoast · 4 years

Text

Cold is the Night (Day Two: Counterpart)

Zutara Week 2020// Day One

@zutaraweek

Ao3

Bring me some hope

By wandering into my mind

Something to hold onto

Morning, noon day, or night

You are the light that is blinding me

You're the anchor that I tied to my brain

'Cause when it feels like I'm lost at sea

You're the song I sing again and again”

- The Anchor (Bastille)

____

Zuko didn’t know what to say.

She closed his hand around the smooth stone.

“Katara, I...I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can.” she pushed it towards his chest,

“No, I won’t let you.”

“Zuko,” she squeezed his hand, and furrowed her brow. His throat closed. “You’re not letting me do anything.”

He opened his palm and looked at the necklace, her necklace, her mother’s necklace.

“But,”

Katara sighed, “Here,” she took it from him. A weight flew off his shoulders, but she just grabbed his bare wrist and slowly wrapped the blue silk around it.

“Zuko, you want to get married, right?” He tried to open his mouth and agree, but no sound came out, he just nodded. His eyes didn’t leave her calloused tan hands, “Well, then I’m giving this to you.” She finished. The stone, and it's all too familiar design, rested on the inside of his wrist, against his pulse.

She moved her hand to cradle his left cheek. They were a cool salve to his scar. Her fingers threaded into his hair. Looking into her eyes, he leaned into her touch. A gentle smile flitted across her lips.

They had only talked in the abstract about getting married, but last night… even the memory of the words they had shared filled his chest with warmth.

“I love you, Zuko.” she rose to her tip toes and kissed him. Immediately he wrapped his arms around her waist, like an anchor. She broke the kiss, but stayed close. He circled his thumbs across the fabric of her tunic, but she reached down and took his wrist.

“This,” Katara brushed her hand along the silk, “is a promise.”

He finally found his words, “It’s your mother’s Kat, I can’t take it away from you.”

She smiled, but the expression on her brow was insistent, “You're not taking it from me, I’m giving it to you.” She ran a thumb along the stone, “I trust you, Zuko, with this, and with my life, and our future together. I was never supposed to keep it forever. My grandmother gave it to my mother, my mother to me, and now I'm giving it to you.”

Her eyes shined, but there was no sadness in them.

“And… maybe one day,” she raised a brow, “We’ll give it to our daughter.”

Zuko balked.

“In many years, of course!” her eyes went wide. His sigh of relief rustled her baby hairs.

There was a knock at the door, they both jumped.

“Ambassador Katara, if you’re in there, the ship to Ba Sing Se is leaving in thirty minutes.”

Katara pouted. Zuko smiled at the expression.

“What will I do without you, while your off building hospitals in the Earth Kingdom?”

Once again she reached up, but this time her fingers ran all the way to behind his ear.

“That’s another thing its good for,” she kissed him again, this time slower, “I’ll always,” she planted another kiss on his jaw, “be close.” her third kiss was the tip of his nose.

He laughed, and pulled her against him. He buried his nose in her soft hair, and she couldn’t hold him tight enough.

“I’ll see you in ten months?” she whispered into his neck.

“In ten months.”

___

A year and eleven months later...

Katara had never seen a more beautiful morning. Though, she would enjoy it more if she had slept the night before.

For hours she laid in the dark until the sky turned gray outside her open balcony doors. Cool, damp wind blew through the sheer white curtains and caressed her face. Spring had stayed for longer than usual in the Fire Nation. The oppressive heat and humidity of summer had been delayed. Katara wondered if it was divine intervention, or dumb luck.

She pulled the duvet, pale blue, up to her cheek, and snuggled closer into the cool white sheets. Once, she was under the impression that everything in the Imperial Palace was red or black, but on her first night as a formal guest of the Fire Lord (a phrase which made her chuckle every time she heard it) she had been lead into a sunny room, with slate gray wood walls, light maple furniture, and a lovely four poster bed with pretty blue bedding. A pile of pillows topped it in shades of lilac, periwinkle, and the softest green.

Pale, watery light filled the room and softened the edges of her sleepless night. It filtered through the stacks of papers piled on her desk.

For another moment she observed the dawn’s quiet beauty, then slowly sat up and stretched.

It wasn’t like she would be getting any rest anyway.

The waterbender wrapped a red silk robe around her bindings and tied it securely around her waist. Slowly, she crossed the room and stilled at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman stared back at her. Curves, recovered from years of hardship, enhanced hard muscle. Wild, untamed, chestnut curls crowned her head and fell to her waist. Blue eyes turned clear in the coming light of day.

She was no longer the little girl, a wisp of skin and bone, who cradled the head of the last airbender, six years ago in the snow. She was a new creature.

___

Katara found herself curled in the ancient roots of the willow tree, on the banks of the turtle duck pond. She had come to this place many times before, and it always cleared her mind, but the thoughts swirling around her countenance were a different beast this morning.

The sun was minutes away from crowning the gray hills in the distance, and the sky had turned the softest blue. The clouds above were tinged in pink and gold.

The turtle ducks had just begun to wake up, and were quaking quietly to themselves. Chirping birds and the wind in the fresh leaves became the backdrop of her silent thoughts.

Katara watched the mist rise of the mirror-like surface of the pond. She reached out, feeling the gentle pull of the water in her navel, and curled it to her whim.

“I didn’t expect to find you out here so early.”

Katara started at the breaking of her silence, but then she smiled.

“Goodmorning, Uncle.”

Iroh smiled gently then gestured to the grass next to her, “May I sit with you?”

“Of course,” the older man nodded, and settled in a lotus position beside her.

“I usually have my morning tea out here, I would be honored if you joined me.”

As Katara nodded, Iroh pulled a teapot out of the small basket at his side, and handed her a cup. With a gentle smile he poured the steaming liquid.

She took a sip and her chest grew warm.

“Mmm… what type of tea is this?”

“Gyokuro, very good for waking up,” he took his own sip, “though… it also does well for those who never went to sleep.” He gave her a pointed look. Sheepishly, Katara stared down at her tea, and then the pond.

“I couldn’t stop my mind from…” she waved a hand around her head, “spinning.”

“Often, the wills of the mind overcast the needs of the body.”

Katara sighed, and slouched a little, “Yeah.”

“Is there anything in particular you are worried about, Lady Katara?” Iroh’s expression was calm, and he topped off her tea cup. She sighed, then scoffed,

“Besides the obvious?”

“I prefer not to assume the apparent obvious, I’m too frequently incorrect in my assumptions.”

The sun had finally dawned over the mountains and the entire palace and gardens were lit up in brilliant gold. The red roof tops of Caldera City burned in the dawn. Katara pulled her knees closer to her chest and took a deep sip of tea. She knew Iroh would not pester her for a speedy response, so she took the time to collect her thoughts. The general just simply waited and drunk his tea, while he watched the surface of the pond sparkle like a jewel.

“It’s the wedding. Don’t get me wrong! I want to marry Zuko, I love him, and can’t imagine being without him, but there's so much… pressure.”

Iroh, just watched her, and waited for her to continue.

“I have to look perfect, and act perfect, and say all the right things. I have to bow to this person, and remember this person's name. There's so many customs and rules. What if I do something wrong? What if something crazy happens? Like assassins attack, or there’s a freak tornado?”

Katara’s voice had risen in volume and pitch as she went on, but now her words were quiet, and the hands gripping her tea cup trembled. “I know that there's people in this country who don’t like me. I hear them in the streets when I go shopping. They whisper behind my back at parties and announcements. ‘Southern Savage’… that’s a favorite… there was one woman I passed in a corridor that called me ‘Zuko’s Whore’”. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Iroh’s expression darkened.

“Does my nephew know of these impertinences?”

Katara sniffled and wiped her cheek with the sleeve of her robe, “No, he has so much to worry about, and he can’t fix it anyway.”

“And I feel so stupid!” the waterbender threw a hand in the air, threatening ripples disturbed the pond, “I’m not some soft maiden. Usually, I would defend myself. One time in Ba Sing Se, some girls made fun of Toph and I sent them down the river! I challenged a waterbending master without any formal training. I started a prison riot. I defeated Azula. Iv’e fought assassins, and soldiers!” Katara hid her face behind her knees, curtains of hair blocking her tears from view, “But, I just freeze. Every time. My brain screams at me to do something, but I can’t, I just stand there like an idiot. Eventually, I remember that fighting wouldn’t have helped anyway, or changed help how people saw me, they'd just think I was even more of a ‘savage’.” She spit the word out like poison, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I should stand up for myself, but..” she trailed off.

“Those things aren't true, Katara.”

“I know,” she turned to Iroh, resting her temple on her knee, “but, it’s hard to handle it. I’ve never been stoic, I’ve never been able to just ‘brush things off’. Like Mai, she gets all kinds of stuff thrown at her because she’s with Ty Lee, but she’s always the perfect noblewoman.”

“Just because your strengths differ from those valued by Fire Nation nobility doesn’t mean they’re less valuable.” A melancholic look over took his features, ��my wife was very similar to you. She was raised in the colonies, born out of wedlock on top of it, but she too was never able to brush things off.”

“What did she do?” Katara turned her whole body in interest.

“She worked hard, she served the people, and was kind to everyone. She did so much good for the Fire Nation, before she died, that slowly the people who didn’t like her were the minority.”

Katara nodded.

“And,” Iroh made a point to look her in the eye, “she confided in me, and we were able to get through it together. Tell my nephew, the next time something happens. Even if he can’t do anything about it, which would be a rare occurrence, he receives his own ridicule, as I’m sure you know. You two are stronger together. You and Zuko, both, have grown up having to fight for every scrap of respect” Iroh breathed in deeply, “and you must continue to do so. However, the arena has changed, Lady Katara. You have to rely on each other, and your natural strengths to navigate it.”

The general chuckled to himself, “and don’t worry about messing up at your wedding. Nothing can be worse then when my cousin spilled the entire puch bowl on his pride, then got so drunk he challenged her brother to and Agni Kai.”

Katara’s jaw dropped.

“Of course, the man was a non-bender, so the challenge was null and void. What I’m trying to say, is that the wedding doesn’t matter as much as what you do after. You have a strong heart and, most importantly, empathy. This country doesn’t need a noblewoman, it needs a warrior.”

The young waterbender was now looking back over the pond, her brow furrowed.

“Is there anything else on your mind, Lady Katara?”

She considered it.

“What is it going to be like...being Fire Lady?”

Iroh took another sip of his tea, “I’ve never been one, so I can’t say that I know for sure,” she smiled, “but the most important thing to remember is that you are the most powerful person in the Fire Nation. That fact comes with privileges, but it also comes with responsibilities. You will swear the same oaths as Zuko. You are the mother of the nation.”

Oddly enough, that was the easy part to her. She had always been a caregiver. The memory of a small village on a river came to mind, of a little boy with a fish, and a veiled rice hat. She frowned, softly,

“What do you mean I’m the most powerful person in the Fire Nation? I thought that was Zuko, he’s the Fire Lord.”

Iroh shook his head swiftly, “My father and grandfather spun many lies about our customs and beliefs. They changed thousands of years of history to feed their own egos and suit their agendas, and to have unquestionable power. The Fire Lord and Lady are equal in power and in status, or at least they were before the War.” He turned to Katara, whose eyes had gone wide, “it is my understanding that Zuko will honor those ancient traditions.”

He continued, “You and Zuko have always been equals, even before he found his way. You are two sides to the same coin, moon and sun.You have always been matched in skill and mind. Similarly, The position of Fire Lady is the counterpart to the Fire Lord.”

“Yin and Yang.” Katara whispered. She reached up to the new pendant at her throat (so like her old one in weight and shape) and traced the familiar pattern engraved in luminescent green stone. She thought of a battle, so long ago. Katara had been so angry then, but her and Zuko… they had been equally matched. How many other times had they met on the battlefield and fought till a stand still. Even now, as friends, as more than that… they had always been on level footing. Never before had she hidden in Zuko’s shadow. He always recognized her strengths, and how they complimented his own weaknesses. Katara smiled to herself. Why would that change now?

You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun.

Balanced.

She turned to Iroh, and bowed slightly, “Thank you, Un…” Katara paused to yawn wide, “...cle”

He smiled, and bowed back, “Tomorrow is your wedding day, not today, I believe you may have some time to rest your eyes.”

Katara nodded, yawning again, and stood. Before she left she wrapped Iroh in a tight hug. He responded in kind.

When Katara made it back to her room, she found her mind clear as she settled into bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow, her hand still resting on the engagement necklace around her neck.

___

(Please reblog with thoughts & criticism!!)

Day two!!!

So I added that part at the beginning because i wanted to share my personal headcannon about the necklace (Also, read my Zutara Week submission from a couple years ago on the same subject) and it ended up being my favorite of today’s prompt :) Anyway, Thank you for reading!!! Tomorrow’s will be ~t h e w e d d i n g~ and then on day four we diverge a little for my personal favorite piece I wrote. (Because it’s lore and lore is the bomb diggity)

#ems zkw2020 #zutara week #zutara week 2020 #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #zutara #Zuko and Katara #Katara #zuko #iroh #zutara fanfiction

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alitaimagines · 4 years

Text

“under the lights tonight, you turned around and you stole my heart with just one look when I saw your face, I fell in love, took a minute girl to steal my heart. with just one look, I waited for a girl like you.”

MIMA SOUICHIROU ☆ ACE OF DIAMOND

☆ note: god, the fucking BNHA manga right now is killing me. i can’t deal with this shit so please enjoy this fluff bc I’m dying inside. I know my DnA imagines don’t do well on here but I love these kids so much.

☆ previous imagine: ♡ ☆ masterlist: ♡

“oh god, I’m going to pass out,” you exclaimed as your back hit the ground with a large thud, “I don’t think I could run anymore,” you practically screamed onto the field.

Midori shook her head at your dramatics, “you lead the track team. how are you so tired when you have the best record out of all of us,” she asked as you gave her the finger.

“I don’t know but please drag me back inside of the school. I think I might pass out,” you murmured making Midori roll her eyes again, “I’m serious. I think if I get up, I’ll end up on the floor,” you admitted.

Midori tapped you on the shoulder making you groan, “get up, coach is behind us!” she gritted through her teeth. you instantly turned around to see your coach looking at you in confusion.

“sorry coach! I’m just really tired,” you confessed making him wave you off, “please follow me,” was all he told you as Midori pushed you up to make you follow him.

you trudged behind him with a million questions running through your head. you knew you weren’t in trouble but the thought of getting in trouble for something you had no idea about was what caused your nerves to bubble up.

the two of you entered his office when you saw that his son was sitting inside. you waved at him as he returned you a wave before looking at his father with the same confusion.

“Hakuryuu is going to be taking promotional photos for the up coming sports season and the two of you were chosen to not only represent the Genma prefecture but Hakuryuu as well.”

you looked to Mima who was just as surprised as you were.

“promotional photos like as in professional photos around the school or all over the city?” you asked. your coach chuckled, “all over the prefecture. you’re our top athletes with promising careers in your respective sports. although it’s not mandatory, universities and other teams could get in contact with both of you due to the exposure.”

Mima murmured a yes as they both looked at you for your answer.

you were a bit taken back by the news. you knew you were pretty decent at your sport but you had never thought it would cause you to get so popular. the thought of your face being plastered all over the city and the prefecture made you feel some type of way.

“I’ll accept the offer,” you finally responded making your coach nod, “great. the photographer wants you ready by eight tomorrow morning in uniform. the two of you have been excused for the day and for practice for the photos and interviews they want to give you.”

you nodded before wondering why would this take all day. if it was just a couple of photos and a small interview, you couldn’t figure out why it would excuse you the entire day.

“so, are you excited about tomorrow?” you asked Mima as the two of you walked out. he shrugged, “I guess. it’s great exposure for Hakuryuu but I don’t know how I feel seeing my face everywhere,” he replied.

you laughed before agreeing, “same but I guess it’s a way to show off our skills to future scouts. I mean, we graduate this year so I can see why,” you said before seeing Midori wait for you at the end of the hall, “see you tomorrow?” you mentioned before running towards your friend.

Mima knew exactly of who you were. you were his fathers other prodigy. he knew of your insanely quick legs and if he was being brutally honest, he had thought of ways to get you to play for the baseball team. he knew that could never be a possibilities but with your fast running record, you could be deadly.

you were also in the same class as him. the two of you weren’t close but there would be times when you got paired up with him. due to both of your practices, the teacher would work around the schedules to make sure none of you failed.

“wait,” Mima stated as he grabbed your shoulder and pulling it back slightly, “what’s up?” you asked making Midori stare at the two of you before slowly walking away.

he remained silent for a bit too long making you concerned, “do you have LINE?” he asked a you nodded yes, “or could I have your number?” he asked again but a bit more shyly.

you laughed before taking your phone out, “I don’t have LINE but you could have my number!” you said as Mima grabbed his phone and quickly typed in his number, “just in case I need it for tomorrow,” he murmured as you typed your number in his phone.

Mima looked down to see your name with a heart emoji next to it. for some reason, Mima liked seeing your name with a heart next to it. he didn’t know why but he did.

“well, see ya! we have to be up early,” you complained. Mima stayed quiet, “could I walk you to your dorm? it’s pretty late and I wouldn’t want you walking in the dark by yourself,” he tried to say with a blush written all over his face.

“of course, your dad isn’t going to mind that you’re late?” you asked making Mima shake his head no, “our house isn’t far from Hakuryuu, I’ll be okay,” he said.

the night was pretty quiet outside of the crickets that were making noise.

you had never really spent time with Mima outside of the few times you paired with him in class for a project and whenever the two of you did talk, it was usually on the conversation of track or baseball. every so often, the two of you would crack a joke on his dad but for the most part, it stayed pretty civil.

neither of you could deny it though. the two of you thought the other was cute and it was starting to become a bit more recognizable. Mima would catch himself staring at you at least a few times during class before he realized what he was doing. you would notice the few times your eyes stayed on him whenever you watched the team play and you would cheer a bit harder whenever he scored.

“so, are you excited for your season to start?” you finally spoke up, “yeah, I think we could go to Koshien again. I could see our team facing Hokkaido again,” he responded.

you nodded not knowing what to say.

“do you think you’ll make it to finals again? I heard my father say that you’ve gotten a few university offers and even an invitation for the Olympic team,” he mentioned as you smiled a bit, “yeah, I did. they called me for pre-olympic tryouts at the end of my third year. they think I have a lot of potential to make the team and even win gold,” you said a bit excitedly.

Mima smiled at your sudden enthusiasm, “that’s sounds great,” he said, “do you have any offers from any Nippon teams? I can’t imagine that you don’t at least have three,” you asked Mima.

“I have a few but I haven’t fully thought of which team to take the offer from yet. my parents and I have to speak about it but I might I have two in mind,” he replied as he watched you stop in front of your dorm.

“well, this is my room! I’ll see you tomorrow!” you exclaimed as you unlocked your door, “yeah, see you tomorrow,” he muttered as you waved him off before entering your dorm.

the following morning, you were awoken by your alarm and you put on your Track uniform as you trudged your way to the office of your coach. you had no idea if Mima was there but as soon as you arrived, you saw him entering a car.

“I’ll be driving you to your destination,” the driver said as you gave Mima a look, “my father said the photoshoot is in a building across the city,” you nodded quietly as you felt yourself starting to doze off.

Mima laughed at how quickly you fell asleep. with the morning rush hour and the traffic, it took a bit longer to get to where the two of you were supposed to be at and soon your head at fell onto Mima’s shoulder for support.

you hadn’t ralized you fell asleep until Mima shook your shoulder slightly, “we’re here,” he whispered as you jerked awake. you gave a big yawn before nodding, “god, I’m so tired,” you complained before taking another big gulp of your coffee.

Mima chuckled as the two of you walked inside of the building. you were instantly dragged to another room to get your hair and makeup done as Mima was left to himself until you were done getting ready.

“I feel like I have thirty pounds of makeup on my face,” you said as you walked out of the room. Mima was instantly struck quiet as he took in your new look. if you were already cute without makeup, the amount you had on made you look completely different but not in a bad way, “you look great. don’t worry about it,” he muttered through his flustered state.

you tried to hide the warm feeling crawling up your face as the manager of the photoshoot instructed you to follow her.

the two of you landed in a room with a small backdrop and instantly got told to get into various positions for a multitude of photos. Mima was up first as they gave him his bat to take a few photos with it before giving him a ball and making him pose with it.

once Mima was finished with his set, you were called next. you did a few running positions before taking a few photos with your medals from previous competitions you had won.

“for these next few photos, it’s going to be the two of you.”

you brought Mima over as she positioned you and Mima next to each other. a few were a regular posed photos before she handed you his bat and made you pose with it while Mima looked at you.

the feeling in his heart swelled as he watched you take the photo with his bat. the next one was of him with one of your medals and while the photographer said she probably wouldn’t send those for finalization, the two of you were going to get raw and final copies of the photos so she decided on a few silly photos.

“well, how about the two of you have your lunch before the interview starts?” the producer said as she handed you the pre-packed lunch they made for you.

you and Mima sat outside under a small space with shade. the lunch wasn’t too good but considering you only had coffee for you breakfast, it was basically gourmet for you.

“these photos are going to look so weird,” you told Mima as he agreed, “but I think they’re going to turn out great,” he responded. you gave him a look, “you think so?” you asked while Mima nodded.

“we’re the best athletes in all of Hakuryuu, I’m sure they’re going to be fine,” he said as you took his word for it, “I’m trusting you Mima,” you joked as the two of you continued to talk until you were called in for the interview.

both you and Mima were sat across from each other as the reporter introduced himself and started asking Mima questions about his skills as a baseball player and the pressure of being the son of a professional athlete.

you remained quiet for most of the time before the questions got turned over to you. he asked you the same questions he asked Mima before he gave the two of you a small smile.

“so, Mima, do you watch her Track meets and ( your name ), do you watch his baseball games?”

Mima spurred out a nervous answer as you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction and very poo answer.

“well, since my coach is his dad, I do watch his games from time to time. Hakuryuu was right for picking Mima and I try to watch them as much as I can, that is if my own schedule allows it. I take a lot of pointers from Mima’s running style and admire his work ethic on the field.”

Mima was stunned by your answer as his heart swelled once again. you could tell that you made Mima flustered but didn’t want to antagonize the reporter to berate you with more personal questions and left it at that.

once the interview was finished, the two of you were driven back to Hakuryuu. Mima was quiet for the entirety of the time as you were playing a game on your phone to kill time until you got back to campus.

“so do you really try to watch all of my games?” Mima asked suddenly. you nodded, “I do. I love watching baseball and take a few running pointers from the team. you guys are all great, especially you,” you murmured the last part making Mima’s blush spread across his face like wildfire.

after you answered his question, you realized you were back at Hakuryuu. the two of you thanked the driver once again before you started walking towards the dorms.

“can I walk you back to your dorm again?” he asked, a little less shyly this time. you nodded yes as he quickly caught up to you and made the tread back to your dorm room.

it was relatively quiet for the most part but halfway through the walk, Mima slowly grabbed your hand making your face shoot up in warmth. his hand was strong and warm as you tightened your own grasp as a way to tell Mima that you wanted it there.

you knew Mima wasn’t a boy of many words so once you got to the front of your dorm, you weren’t expecting him to say much. you fished the keys from your bag and went to start unlocking your door before he grabbed your wrist to make you look back at him.

he gave you a quick peck on the lips before he quickly retracted back. you were stunned silent for a moment making Mima think he completely ruined his chances with you but as soon as he went to start walking away, you grabbed his wrist this time and returned it. this time making sure to kiss him a bit longer.

“I’ll text you tonight,” was all you said before heading inside.

a few weeks passed after that day. you had been seeing Mima a few times a week after both of your practices finished. it was usually homework dates and sometimes dinner dates whenever he offered to sit in your dorm to eat with you.

“our pictures came in,” Mima told you as he grabbed your hand to drag you to his dads office, “he wants to give us the copies and he even said there was a surprise for us.”

“what kind of surprised?” you exclaimed but as soon as you got onto the main campus, you noticed all of the promotional photos of you and Mima hanging on banners and posters hanging on poles and walls of Hakuryuu, “oh my god, Mima,” you whispered making him laugh.

the two of you walked in to his dads office as his father laughed at both of your reactions to the photos. he handed both of you a huge packet with all the photos as he explained that your parents got sent a packet of the finalized photos as well at the school admin and the Genma sports association.

you knew it was like a ticking time bomb before you received messages from your friends about the photos and interview that was going to be released in a magazine in a few weeks.

“god, we really exposed ourselves, didn’t we?” you joked to Mima as he grabbed your hand and the two of you made your way up to your homeroom class, “yeah but I wouldn’t have done it with anyone else,” Mima replied as he gave you a peck on the cheek making you instantly blush.

ALITA

#daiya no ace #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no ace imagine #Ace of Diamond #ace of diamond imagine #ace of diamond x reader #mima souichirou #mima souichirou imagine #mima souichirou x reader #anime imagine #anime x reader #anime x you #anime #sports anime

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pretty-thoughts-and-a-pen · 4 years

Text

The Last Human

CW: blood, stabbing, death.

His face staring up at her from where she had him pinned to the ground was so ordinary, so unremarkable and human, that anyone would have mistaken it as just another face in the crowd. Knowing better, she pressed the silver blade flush against the skin of his throat, pushing her hand on his chest and knee against his gut hard enough to make his breath catch. He kept a neutral expression on his face and his eyes fixed on the blade, although the tremble that racked his body gave away the waves of fear running through him. Ruhi, herself, was not doing much better. Her breathing was laboured, and heavy, making her chest rise and fall dramatically with every pant. The handle of the knife was too slippery in her hand, coated as it was with fresh blood that dripped onto her arm and onto the dirt of the forest floor. It seeped into the shadows of the night, just as it did into the fabric of her brown coat. The exhaustion of slaying one monster, already, laid heavy on her.

But she couldn’t risk letting this second beast free.

Her dark eyes bore into his light yellow ones the moment he looked up. The softness of his face was almost insulting, when he was of the same species as the hideous brute that had tried to attack and kill Ruhi a mere few minutes ago. As soon as she had caught a glimpse of him in the trees, though, while coming down from the high of the fight, she had been on him in a second. The only reason he was still alive, was the very perplexing word he had uttered in the moments before she had almost lodged her knife through him, and into the ground.

“Help, you say?” Her thick eyebrow was raised.

“Yes.” His voice was like the song of nightingales in the dark. Unfitting for a beast. “I want to help you, if I may.”

“I hunt your kind.” As if to emphasise the point, she dug the tip of the knife into his flesh and drew blood. “I’m here to kill.”

“And I’m one of them,” he agreed, “but I will work with you still.”

“Why?” Ruhi’s voice wavered, reflecting her tiredness. “What makes a beast betray his own kind?”

“Maybe acknowledge that I’m still human, if you don’t mind.”

His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes pinched in annoyance, as if he was in any position to argue for respect for himself. Still, the complete lack of resistance on his part was working wonders to incite Ruhi's sympathy. It gave his sincerity so much credit, especially since Ruhi knew how strong these creatures truly were. She took a moment, then, to look up at the inky black sky, and the nearly full moon that greeted her was a poignant reminder of what was at stake. That shining circle would be complete soon.

“How many more of you are here? Three? Two?”

“Three other than me, and I’ll kill them with you.”

“Before I let you go,” Ruhi was already letting the knife up, slightly, “tell me your name. If we’re to be partners, I’ll have to know.”

“Won’t be partners for long…” the words were barely a whisper, as if only meant for himself, and he paused for a bit after speaking them, “...and the name’s Aurelio.”

“Ruhi.”

***

Ruhi crouched behind a thick cover of bushes, side by side with one of the most dangerous creatures that inhabited this world, and she was working with him. Her right hand clutched a pistol, tight and firm, while her left held her silver knife aloft. Next to her, Aurelio shifted in the grass, angling away from her and the blade that could sear his skin at the smallest touch. It was the young girl’s second night in the woods, and she had been led to a spot that not one, but apparently two werewolves took shelter in, by the least trustworthy source she could think of. But, tonight would prove where Aurelio’s loyalties truly lay, plus, while they waited for their targets to emerge, Ruhi could ask some questions.

“You’ll know when they’re close? Just by their smell?”

Aurelio nodded, and tapped his nose. “You’ve hunted us before, you know this well.”

“Us.” Ruhi took a deep, steadying breath. The boy still claimed the identity of his kind. “So, a werewolf who should be killing me, is helping me hunt his friends instead?”

“Yes.” Aurelio ran a hand through his hair. His head tipped back, and even in the darkness, Ruhi saw clearly the sheer, intense focus of his yellow eyes as they zeroed in on the waxing moon. “The full moon night will come, and with it will come bloodshed.

I’ve seen what happened through shifted eyes; I’ve seen families ripped apart.

I didn’t ask to be made a monster, but I'm choosing not to be one at heart.

I know we need to go, at the hands of someone like you.”

She tilted her head, and deep red strands flew in her face as she looked at him. He pushed them away, tucking them back with her natural brown hair. Then, just for a moment, his hand lingered on her warm, coffee-coloured skin.

“But really, I’m just trying to be a human for once, too.”

Ruhi could’ve sworn the basic structure of his face had changed. The lines were harder, the nose more pointed, and yet, with that deep expression of regret, he somehow looked more human than when she’d last seen him, yesterday.

When he stiffened, she did too. “They’re coming,” he whispered.

Silent as the wind, they crept in opposite directions, to trap and kill two more monsters, between them.

***

The wind whistled past Ruhi as she flew back, crashing hard into the bark of a tree. A cry ripped from her throat as her back exploded in pain, but she kept her eyes open and fought the stars that danced across her vision. She had barely touched the ground for a second before she was staggering back to her feet. Her quaking hands held the knife defensively in front of her. Cuts streaked all over them, letting little trails of blood out to decorate her skin.

The creature that advanced on her was nowhere near human. The third night since she had started this clearly had to be the last. If all of the creatures in this forest didn’t go right now, while it was evening, it would be too late. Every second with which the sky got darker was a second lost to a ticking time bomb. And the destruction caused would be much worse than what she was seeing in front of her, as of now.

Trees sprawled on the ground and plants uprooted and torn formed the backdrop of the fight. The woman advancing on her had canines dripping with blood, drawn from Ruhi’s arm, as well as similarly coated claws. Her body was bent, twisted and distorted, the shape of her bones distinct against her skin and clearly inhuman. The only sounds that left her mouth were snarls. Clumps of fur had already sprouted on her shoulders, elbows, knees, and probably in other places covered by the torn rags she wore as clothes. Only three nights earlier, this woman would’ve been as deceptively human as Aurelio. She and Ruhi could’ve had a conversation, maybe formed an alliance, before these cursed urges took over her. But now, she was on the verge of fully becoming a beast. She had cornered Ruhi with the mindless intent to kill.

And the only thought in Ruhi’s mind was pity.

She picked up a fallen branch from her side, hurriedly bringing her lighter to it and setting the dried leaves ablaze. The flame gained steadily as she swung it in front of her in an arc, and the werewolf halted in her tracks, instinctively stepping away. Ruhi felt a tug in her heart as she watched the woman backtrack towards the edge of the grove, where a looming shadow waited for her. She wouldn’t even get the chance to pass in dignity. Her cruel nature would become her in her death too, and she would be immortalized as a body with fur, a tail and a snout, a hunched back and deadly weapons for teeth and nails.

A body that looked like Aurelio did, right then when he leaped forth to kill her.

***

“If it were my choice, you would die in human form, with no pain.”

Ruhi spoke to the half-man, half-beast, that lay half-dead next to her where she sat on the grass. Her knife sticking out of his chest. No words left him. If Ruhi were to hold a funeral, she would have to quote the broken whimpering of an animal as Aurelio’s last words.

“We couldn’t be partners for long; you knew every one of you had to be slain.

You bore the curse, helped end it, and then gladly took the fall.

Just for that,” she closed his eyes, “you were the most human of them all.”

#short story #writing #horror #fantasy #dark #werewolf #monsters #oneshot #mywriting #writers on tumblr #blood tw #death tw #poetry #shut up self doubt i think this is poetry

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet: Chapter Four

Summary: In which Nesta and Elain are introduced to the Inner Circle. Note: Read it on AO3 here! Warnings: mention of eating disorder, weight loss Bittersweet Masterlist

September

Nesta was staring at her reflection when Elain knocked on her bedroom door.

“Feyre’s here!”

“I’ll be right out,” she called back.

Nesta directed her gaze back to the mirror. She didn’t know what to make of what she saw.

Her face was jaunt, the shadows under her eyes resembling purple bruises. Her face had always been angular, but never so bony. Her thick golden hair now hung limply, greasy strands falling into her face. Nesta hadn’t showered in days, and her breath reeked thanks to a lack of nutrients. She was the color of a ghost, nearly blending into her surroundings with her tiny presence. Nesta was shrinking into herself little by little. Until nothing remained.

She had never been so underweight, not even when their mom forgot to cook most nights. At Nesta’s normal weight, her toned thighs touched each other. Rolls formed on her stomach when she bent over. She looked like a woman.

But as she stared at the mirror, Nesta looked like a girl.

It wasn’t intentional. Gods, she’d seen what that sort of thing did to people. Elain struggled with an eating disorder since she was thirteen.

Those couple years were brutal. Their dad was emotionally absent, their mother gone. Feyre was working every day. Nesta did as much as she could, but… there’s only so much she could do. Their family couldn’t afford a therapist or nutritionist. Elain didn’t want to get better.

Then, Elain passed out walking home from school. That’s when Nesta had enough. She couldn’t stand to watch her sister completely disappear right in front of her eyes. So, she talked to Elain’s guidance counselor, Alis, who was the only qualified person there. The other counselors did shit. All they cared about was academics and nothing more. Alis gave Nesta pamphlets for free group therapy. Nesta marched home and told Elain about it.

She refused for a month.

Nesta had never seen Elain so angry and hopeless during those few weeks. Angry at Nesta for getting into her business. Hopeless in the way that she didn’t particularly care what happened to her.

Then, one day, Elain found Nesta sobbing on the floor of their bedroom. When Elain took a step closer, Nesta snapped. She screamed. Gods, did she scream. She begged – begged – Elain to stop killing herself. Nesta was desperate, and she knew the only way Elain would agree to get help was if Nesta asked her to do it for her. And so Elain agreed.

It took a long time; recovery isn’t a linear process in the slightest. But with time, Elain healed. She healed until she was doing it for herself, not just for Nesta. And now… now, Elain cherished her body. She’d once told Nesta that the intrusive thoughts still surfaced, but they weren’t nearly as loud as they used to be.

Nesta’s sudden weight loss… it wasn’t the same. It was the depression that was gnawing at her very flesh, the guilt that was eating her away until it hit bone. She didn’t care to eat. She didn’t care to do anything.

Elain had been trying to get her to eat every day. Three meals a day. She had always been a fabulous cook, baking and cooking until the sun set. Nesta wished she could stomach Elain’s food, but she felt as if she would throw up if she consumed anything more than a piece of fruit.

Nesta sighed with resignation. Turning her back to the mirror, she walked out of her room to find Feyre and Elain lounging in the kitchen. Elain’s profile was backlit by the window above the sink, highlighting her light hair.

“What do you want?” Nesta asked as she approached them, taking a seat on the stool. She’d completely lost energy during the past few weeks, and any semblance of patience was easily lost on her.

Feyre ignored her brash tone. “How are classes going?”

“Fine.” She didn’t bother elaborating. There wasn’t much to tell anyway.

“You look thin,” Feyre commented, running her eyes over Nesta’s barely visible body.

“Are you here to criticize my appearance or can I retreat back into my room?”

“It was just an observation, Nesta,” Feyre told her. Then, she addressed both of them. “My friends and I are having a dinner party tomorrow night at my house. It’s a small tradition that we do every other week. Do you guys want to come?”

“Yes!” Elain jumped up excitedly. She gripped Feyre’s shoulders, the latter smiling widely. “I finally have a reason to dress up!”

Feyre unraveled herself from Elain’s grip and turned to Nesta. “Are you in?”

“I’m invited?” She couldn’t help but ask. Feyre hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to spend time with Nesta. It wasn’t like Feyre was cruel to her; they’d simply become strangers after years of no communication. Feyre had shown Elain around town, but that courtesy didn’t extend to Nesta.

Feyre blew out a breath of air and nodded. “I want to try to fix… this.” She gestured between them.

Nesta would have laughed if it weren’t for the nervousness in Feyre’s eyes. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’m ready to meet your friends quite yet.”

I know I'm not ready.

Nesta had been doing better since the semester started; that much was true. Even so, she rarely talked to anyone, save the obligatory conversations with professors as well as her T.A.’s. She only left the apartment for classes and never lingered on campus to study or socialize. Considering it was a challenge to talk with her peers, Nesta was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to make conversation with her estranged sister’s friends.

“It would mean so much to me if you met them, especially Rhysand.”

“I said another time.” Nesta’s voice was hard.

Feyre squeezed the bridge of her nose as she tried to reign in her temper. “Please, Nesta? It would be good to get out of the apartment.” She looked resigned, as if she knew Nesta would refuse. “You don’t even have to say anything. No one there will question your silence, I promise. They’re all easygoing.”

She wasn’t asking much of Nesta. In fact, Feyre was asking for the bare minimum. And as much as Nesta dreaded the idea of being surrounded by a group of complete strangers…

You need them as much as they need you. Her father’s words echoed in her head.

Nesta nodded. “Okay.”

And with that, the tether between them began to mend.

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

Feyre and Rhysand’s house lay at the edge of the city, the stars brighter without the light pollution of the city. Elain marveled at the mountainous backdrop as she and Nesta pulled up to their spacious home in Elain’s old Beetle. Nesta’s stomach twisted when she noticed several cars parked in the driveway. She should turn around and return home, she wasn’t ready for –

“Let’s go inside!” Elain sang as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She wore an off-the-shoulder pink dress, the pastel color complimenting her fair skin. The soft fabric fell just below her knees, a gentle breeze caressing the skirt of the dress. She was stunning. Nesta had told her as much when Elain emerged from her room.

Nesta, on the other hand, had chosen to wear ripped jeans and a black hoodie. How she and Elain were related, Nesta had no idea.

They strolled to the front door, Elain bouncing with each step. She’d gushed throughout the entire car ride about the stories Feyre had told her about Rhysand, which somehow led to Elain rambling for ten minutes about her dream wedding.

Gods, Nesta had never met a bigger hopeless romantic.

Sounds of laughter could be heard from inside as they stepped onto the front porch. Elain didn’t hesitate as she knocked three times.

Feyre answered the door just seconds later. Her golden hair tumbled to her shoulders, an easy smile on her face. Nesta had never seen her sister look so happy. She was glowing, and it wasn’t because of the warm lights behind her.

“You made it!” Feyre exclaimed happily, opening the door wider to let them inside. She noticed the dish in Elain’s hands as they walked past her. “You didn’t have to bring anything, El.”

Elain only scoffed as Feyre closed the door behind them. “Like you would have been able to stop me.”

Just as Feyre was about to address Nesta, a few people – her friends, Nesta presumed – entered the foyer.

“Everyone, these are my sisters, Elain and Nesta.” Feyre gestured to them as they stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Elain and Nesta, this is everyone.”

A tall, dark haired man approached them, sliding his hand onto Feyre’s lower back.

Nesta knew who it was before he spoke.

His violet eyes sparkled. “I’m Rhysand,” he reached in to shake their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you both.”

Elain really wasn’t lying about his eyes.

He directed a blindingly white smile at Elain to which she returned. But when his gaze slid to Nesta, his grin slipped slightly, eyes narrowing.

What the hell?

“Well, isn’t this lovely,” a seductive voice drawled. Nesta’s attention was grabbed by the tiny girl who’d spoken, her hair sleek and short. She was standing at the kitchen table with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at Rhysand, and a raised brow that seemed to say, Really?

“I’m Amren.” She flashed Elain and Nesta a wicked grin. “Excuse Rhys’s poor manners.”

Nesta liked her already.

“This is Azriel,” she pointed to the brooding man behind her. He nearly blended into the shadows, his presence calm and quiet. Nesta couldn’t help but notice the scarring on his hands. She instinctively pulled her sweater over her wrists.

The man – Azriel – gave them an awkward wave, his gaze hovering on Elain who returned his greeting with an equally awkward wave of her own.

“I’m Morrigan,” a raspy voice sounded from the kitchen counter. A woman sat at the breakfast bar with a wine glass in hand. Her lips were painted the same crimson color of the drink she held. “But you can call me Mor.”

Another woman stood behind her, hands playing with Mor’s blonde hair. Her skin was a dark hazelnut, waves of thick, black hair framing her face. She wore a bright smile. Together they were regal, the picture of beauty. “This is my girlfriend, Aurra.”

Aurra murmured a greeting, to which Elain reciprocated with a bubbly enthusiasm.

“There’s one more of us, Cassian, but he’s in the Marines. He’s stationed in Turkey right now,” Rhysand explained. He directed the statement towards Elain. He didn’t seem to care to acknowledge Nesta’s presence. “He’ll be back in December.”

“Oh, I completely forgot!” Feyre jumped in. She looked at both Nesta and Elain. “I meant to mention this to you guys when I visited you the other day. Cassian actually lives in the same apartment complex as y’all. I think his place is just a floor above you, so you guys will get the chance to meet each other. It’s hard, though, because he never knows when he’s going to be deployed.”

Nesta nodded absentmindedly, uninterested in these people’s lives. She doubted she would see them again, much less the friend who lived near them.

After the introductions, everyone got settled. Feyre gestured Nesta and Elain to follow her into the living room.

“Dinner isn’t ready quite yet,” she explained, sending a pointed glare where Rhysand stood. He lifted his hands up in surrender. “So, I figured we can just drink and chat until Rhys can cook us something edible.”

Mor snorted from the kitchen at Feyre’s jab. She grabbed Aurra’s hand and they waltzed to the armchair that sat next to the vast fireplace. Aurra pulled Mor onto her lap, Mor giggling as she took a sip of her wine.

Feyre offered them wine. Nesta took hers and followed everyone to the living room. Luckily, she found a seat that distanced her slightly. Feyre sat atop a stool, Rhysand behind her to keep an eye on dinner. Amren lounged on a plush floor cushion, leaving Elain and Azriel on the loveseat.

The conversation came easy. Rhysand and Mor fired question after question at Elain, to which she answered happily. Feyre kept her word; everyone respected Nesta’s space. She was faced only with the occasional, “More wine?” or “The bathroom is over there.” It gave Nesta the opportunity to sit back unbothered and listen to the conversation.

“So how do you all know each other?” Elain asked curiously, gesturing to Feyre’s friends.

Rhysand smiled with fond memories. “I lived across the street from Azriel as a kid. Cassian is my adopted brother, so we all grew up with each other. Mor over here is my cousin. We all went to the same university. Amren…” Rhysand got silent. A small, contemplative smile grew on his face. “I don’t really know how she joined us. I’m pretty sure she approached us and told us that we were now friends with her.”

Amren nodded to confirm as everyone laughed. Her smile resembled the Cheshire Cat.

“And Feyre darling,” Rhysand looked at his girlfriend lovingly. “She stumbled upon us in our sophomore year. That’s a story for another night though.”

Nesta couldn’t help but snort at his nickname for her. Feyre shot her a glare.

After dinner, which ended up being soup thanks to Rhysand’s lack of cooking skills, they all retreated back to the living area. Feyre popped open yet another bottle of wine to top everyone off, and Elain brought out the cupcakes she’d made.

As they were enjoying her sister’s dessert, which was droolworthy like every dish in the past, Elain and Azriel caught Nesta’s attention from the loveseat. She’d noticed they hadn’t spoken much beyond “Hello” and “How are you?” Nesta attributed that to Elain’s innately nervous nature, so she was surprised when she struck up a conversation with him.

“Do you go to school?” Elain asked Azriel timidly, taking a sip of wine.

His head dipped down, tufts of black hair falling into his eyes. “I, uh, work at an animal shelter.”

Elain gasped loudly. She clutched his leg and looked at him with wide eyes. “I love animals! I want to rescue a dog.” Elain began rambling about the bunnies who lived in her garden, the many strays she’d found on the street back in high school, the bird she tended to when she noticed his broken wing.

Nesta watched Azriel smile for the first time tonight. Where most men would cringe from Elain’s incessant chatter, he leaned forward with interest. Nesta could tell he was hanging on to every word that left Elain’s mouth.

As the night went on, Nesta watched the dynamic between everyone. Where Azriel was timid, Mor was booming. She was always laughing at something (usually her own joke), and she made her opinions known. Nesta respected that.

Amren, though? Amren was a creature of her own. She was snarky to her friends, but the love could easily be seen in her eyes. Nesta immediately took to her.

And Rhysand? Nesta was unnerved by how… domestic Feyre and her boyfriend were. They acted like they were a married couple, for gods’ sake. She got second hand commitment phobia just by looking at them.

When it was time for them to leave, Feyre’s friends demanded they join again next week. Elain promised they’d be back again with a giggle, and Nesta swore she saw the light in Azriel’s eyes flare.

So, once a week, the lot of them got together to hang out. Feyre and Rhysand hosted most dinners thanks to their spacious house but occasionally, Mor and Aurra offered their place which was equally gorgeous.

As the weeks passed, Nesta slowly became more comfortable with everyone – though Rhysand typically avoided her, and she did the same. Though she remained near silent during the nights, Nesta found herself looking forward to the dinner gatherings.

And perhaps, perhaps she could find a home here.

#nessian #bittersweet #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #angst #my writing #fic

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Six

Words: 5k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, mentions of drug abuse

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"Are you okay?" I ask Duff as we stand in the elevator of the Playboy office in Chicago where many of their photoshoots are held.

I’m actually thanking God we’ve managed to get this far without paparazzi catching on...then again they’re pre-occupied probably surrounding the guys’ hotel.

Duff slammed back a startling amount of Vodka Tonics on the plane over here, to combat his rancid anxiety, that I had no idea even existed until we were seated on the plane and he nearly passed out after turning sheet white and breathing abnormally fast.

"Yeah." He says in almost a slur. "I'm great."

The plan is to get him a hotel room in the city for tonight and give him money for his flight back tomorrow, so all he brought is his bass, and the way his knuckles are turning white from holding on to the case it’s in, I can tell something’s up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask him.

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re upset over the flight over here--”

“--What if these people are creeps?” He cuts me short, and I realize he’s not still upset over the flight.

“What do you mean?”

“Tansy’s had shitty luck with slimy photographers before, right? She’s told us stories of them, like, hitting on her and making her uncomfortable.”

“Yeah?”

“What if one of these motherfuckers is like that?” He looks at me.

“Well, that’s why I made sure someone accompanied me...someone, i.e. you.” I nudge him.

“Yeah and if something happens and I kick ass, I’m gonna be in trouble, Nikki’s gonna find out we’re here, then he’s gonna--”

“--Do you need more alcohol or something?” I try not to sound too harsh, genuinely worried about his mental state at the moment.

He’s just freaking out about every fucking thing there is to freakout about.

“I just don’t want you to be in trouble, is all.” He mumbles, sighing, and I lick my lips.

“I’m not going to be in trouble, okay? It will be fine. Just take a deep breath, and relax.”

The elevator doors open to reveal a set, an array of soft lighting, a faux house setting, a hair and makeup station, and wardrobe (what bits and pieces of it I’ll actually have on).

I spot Danielle, in all her gorgeous yet professional glory, and she ushers us over to where she’s sitting, talking to the makeup artist.

“Hi, it’s good to see you again.” She tells me, just seeing me yesterday.

“You too.” I reply smiling. I see her eyes catch on Duff. “This is my friend, Duff.” I explain to her. “He’s here for moral support.” I add.

“Ah, Danielle Wythers.” She tells him.

“Duff McKagan.” He replies.

“Nikki couldn’t make it?” She asks me next.

“The thing is...he kind of doesn’t know about it.” I explain to her and she raises her brows. “It’s a surprise.” I lie, not telling her the real reason I didn’t tell him is actually because he wouldn’t necessarily like it.

“Well, he’ll love it.” She assures me.

“Oh, he sure will.” I reply with the same smile.

“Okay, not that you don’t look gorgeous as is, but we’re gonna spruce you up some. Starting out, we’re gonna have you in a little clothing, and then strip down as we go along.” She lays out the plan and I nod. “This is Lucille, she’s doing your hair and makeup, Maarin is your photographer, and when we finish the shoot, I will be interviewing you.” She adds.

“Got it.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She waves before walking to the photographer.

It wasn’t as bad as thought it would have been. There really wasn’t much to it: just look like you’ve got perpetual “fuck me” eyes, follow the suggestions thrown at you by the photographer, and don’t clam up when you hear:

“Alright, let’s lose the clothes.” Maarin says.

My eyes nervously dart to Duff, who I can tell is trying to keep himself at ease like I am.

I look at Danielle next, who’s off to the sidelines, and she gives me an encouraging nod.

I try not to shake as I take the skimpy top they gave me, off, seeing Duff avert his gaze as they have me lay down on my stomach for a few shots of my body against a faux fur rug.

After I’ve gotten everything they want me to get in that position, Maarin is glancing around before I see his eyes lock on Duff’s bass case that’s resting at the tall blondes feet.

“Hey, you.” He says to Duff, catching his attention and Duff looks at him. “What’s in that thing?”

“...A bass?” Duff replies, slightly confused.

“What does Nikki Sixx play?!” Maarin slightly raises his voice to get an answer from anyone who knows.

“Bass?” I tell him.

“Perfect. I want pictures of you with the bass.” He tells me, motioning to Duff to get it out of the case.

“What?” Me and Duff ask at the same time.

If I get pictures with Duff’s bass, Nikki will recognize it, and kill the both of us if it makes it into the final cut.

“Bass. Naked girl. Now.” He repeats, and Duff looks at me.

“It’s fine.” I assure him, lying, but not wanting to waste anymore time because these people have busy schedules.

“Fine.” He mumbles, getting his bass out, carefully handing it to me, trying not to look at my naked body.

Not only was I mortified, nearly, when he told me to put the bass between my legs--covering my netherregion whilst holding onto the neck, being sure to position my arms where the only thing people could see were the round of my boobs--but when he told me to, and I quote, verbatim, “make love to the bass” (as if my bare pussy and tits weren’t already all over it) me and Duff both looked like we were going to jump out of the window.

Within two more hours, the shoot and the interview is over--our final shot is of me sitting against a black backdrop, not a stitch of clothing on, covering my chest with my arm, with my legs crossed to keep myself as modest as possible for the cover.

“So now what?” Duff asks me as we head to the exit of the building when we get to the lobby.

“Go to the hotel.” I say.

“...The hotel the guys are at?”

“Yeah.”

“But then--”

“--We can just say I didn’t want to fly alone.” I shrug.

He thinks for a moment, then sighs.

“How about, I catch a cab back to the airport and go back home.”

“Duff, why?” I ask, a little disappointed, stopping before we get to the door.

“I don’t want to start shit between you and him and it doesn’t make any sense to say you didn’t want to fly alone so you brought me with you.”

“I don’t want you getting back on another plane so soon if you--”

“--I’ll be fine, Viv.” He assures me and I furrow my brows a little.

“Duff.” I start.

“Vivian, it’s fine.” He tells me. “I’m being serious. Don’t fucking argue with me, it is okay.” He sternly, but friendly, promises.

“Okay.” I finally relent, nodding a little.

“Just call me tonight, alright?”

“Yeah.” I agree.

He gives me his best smile before I’m hugging him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “And I’m sorry I molested your bass.”

We both laugh, remembering the odd predicament, and I pull away looking up at him.

“It’s an honor.” He sarcastically lets out, and I wrinkle my nose. “I love you, be careful getting to the hotel.”

“I will.” I hand him the wad of cash he’s going to need to get a ticket back to L.A. and he takes it.

“Thanks.” He accepts it. “See you later.”

“See you later.”

We give each other one last look before we leave, except I go left, and he goes right.

My theory about the hotel being wrapped up in media is 1000% correct as I arrive, the driver saving Fred a trip as he gets out to help me through the ten feet to the door.

"It's great, we're great." I tell a reporter that asks me "how are things with Nikki?"

"What business did you have in Los Angeles?" Another one asks as I approach the front doors of the hotel where Fred is waiting.

"My dad's birthday." I lie, feeling relief the second Fred's large hand pushes lightly against my back, ushering me inside.

"Your dad's birthday?" He asks, knowing that was bullshit and I roll my eyes, taking my sunglasses off when we get in the elevator.

"It's like an act of congress to take a shit without someone asking me how it affects my marriage." I state and he laughs.

"How're you feeling?" He asks me and I furrow my brows. "Your blood pressure."

"Oh, I think it's okay. I have an informative sheet of paper to dictate what I eat and drink and what other medicine I can and can't take while on my antidepressant. The second I can get onto a different medication, I'm taking it."

"Well, be glad you're alive. You dying would've really inconvenienced Doc McGhee." He tells me and I chuckle.

"Yeah, that evil genius knows how to work the public like a vibrator with never ending battery life." I scoff and he looks at me. "What?"

The doors of the elevator open on our floor apparently.

"I've missed you." He admits.

"I'm glad you have. Bet everyone else has been thanking God I haven't been here to cry on their good time." I say as we walk down the hall.

"Actually, I was gonna talk to you about that." He says and I raise my brows as he glances around to make sure the coast is clear. "Sixx hasn't been doing too good."

"Oh, no, how horrible. Wasn't like he publicly humiliated his wife--or at least let another woman do so by announcing their entire relationship on national TV for everyone and their mom to see, or anything." I sarcastically let out.

"Viv, I'm being serious, here." He tells me, reaching in his pocket for my room key, unlocking my door.

"I know you are. And I'm saying if anyone has the right to be in hell right now, it's me. I don't want to hear about how hard he's taking it. He wouldn't have to take anything if he would've given a damn sooner, rather than waiting for his mistress to air out his bullshit in front of his wife and thousands of other people."

"Who says I give a damn now?" I hear Nikki's voice behind us and I stop in my tracks, seeing Fred with his eyes closed as if preparing for a time bomb to go off.

I turn to face Nikki, who's inches infront of me, and he looks down at me with a clenched jaw, looking like he just rolled out of bed, only wearing his leather pants from last night.

"Oh, if it isn't the marital fuck-up." I throw at him.

"Nice to see you, too, wicked cunt-bitch of the west coast." He hisses.

"Okay, if you two are gonna go back and forth, please do so where hotel guests who're trying to enjoy their stay, aren't at risk of witnessing it." Fred suggests, motioning into the hotel room.

"I'd rather castrate myself than be trapped in a room with her." Nikki argues.

"Please do so, maybe it'll keep you from tripping and falling, landing you in other women I'm friends with and becoming engaged to them." I snap back.

"Bitter much?"

"Go play in traffic."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Anything's a good time to you if it involves not being a half-way decent husband, at the least."

"Okay, like you're 'wife of the year' Miss 'run when shit gets messy'."

"Need I remind you 'shit got messy' because you had an entire girlfriend, got engaged, and then she proceeded to indulge me and everyone else in the world when it was broadcasted nationwide?"

"No, baby, I remember it like it was three fuckin' days ago judging by how long you just fucking up and ran for without giving me a chance to explain a damn thing."

"Just making sure you didn't forget since I can only imagine how much smack you've been shooting yourself full of to drown out the self-hate--which is well deserved, by the way."

"Just like it's gonna be well deserved when I bend you over my lap and--"

"--Okay, get in here." Fred tugs me inside to avoid our fight getting physical.

He’s shutting the door before Nikki can say anything else, shutting him outside, as I set my bag down and go pee.

“Vivian, I’m not done talking to you.” Fred says from the room and I roll my eyes.

“I’m peeing, Fred, can we talk about my imploded marriage when I get done?”

“No, because we’re leaving for Chicago early tomorrow morning.” He leans against the bathroom door frame, covering his eyes to keep from seeing me on the toilet.

“Okay, then talk to me.” I tell him, getting done, wiping and flushing the toilet, standing at the sink to wash my hands.

“We know he’s on smack again, Viv.” he informs me.

“I could’ve told you that.” I reply, drying my hands.

“No, no, he’s on smack again but he’s trying to act like he isn’t.”

“Because he knows Doc will strangle him and he doesn’t wanna hear it.” I shrug, stepping past him.

“He was doing good until this Vanity mess got between you two.” He states.

“Nikki was shooting heroin again before the Vanity thing happened. He was on heroin the night of our anniversary.”

His eyes widen when I tell him this.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!” He asks me and I raise my brows.

“I didn’t want him to get in trouble.” I admit honestly and he groans, rubbing his eyes.

“Vivian.” He complains.

“What, sorry, I thought he’d get a grip back on it...at least he told me he would.”

“Yes, because the past few days have obviously proven he can be trusted.” He argues. “He can’t even keep his vows, Viv, what the fuck made you think he’d get back on the wagon after falling off?”

“I didn’t know he wasn’t keeping his vows at the time, Fred, sorry.” I brush him off, pulling my hair back from my face with a ponytail holder.

“...Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll talk to Doc, we’ll figure something out before he starts spiraling.”

“I doubt he’s going to start spiraling, Fred. He tends to only let it get out of control when he’s bored.” I quickly remember him shooting up on stage during the last tour, and ODing in London… “We’ll figure something out, alright? Don’t go panicking to Doc and if you do tell Doc, don’t make it obvious to Nikki that you know what’s up and you want him to stop. He feels attacked and lashes out when people do that. Just keep an eye out for dealers and try to keep him company so he doesn’t feel lonely or alone.” I suggest.

“Well, I know when I tell Doc, what his makeshift solution will be.” He says and I raise my brows.

“What’s that?”

Reason number 1,468 that proves Doc was absolutely crazy…

“Oh, absolutely not.” I state the next night as me, Doc and Fred are walking backstage to get to the guys’ dressing rooms.

“Viv, just listen--” Doc starts but I cut him short.

“--We’re already having to lie to everybody and act like we’re still together, what the hell do you mean ‘make up’ with him?!” I snap, turning on him and he exhales.

“I don’t mean forgive him, I mean as long as he feels like everyone is against him, that might drive him further into his black hole--”

“--So, it’s my responsibility to make sure he doesn’t do heroin, is that what you’re telling me?”

“Vivian, I feel like it would be best if you didn’t add to the many reasons he already feels like he’s gotta hurt himself over, just until this tour wraps and we can get him some proper help.” He tells me.

“Oh my God, I am actually about to have another stroke if you keep fucking talking!” I throw my hands up, stomping away from him, but he stays on my heels.

“Vivian, just listen.” He says as I open the dressing room door and barge in to see Vince, Mick, Tommy...and Devil Spawn.

“Doc, why don’t you just drop your pants and I’ll get on my knees and start slurping at your balls because that’s obviously what you want me to do!” I scream at him.

“Vivia--”

“--Nothing is good enough! You want us to play nice for the cameras, we’re doing that, you want us to bullshit the fans, we’re doing that, you want us to postpone a fucking divorce filing, we’re doing that, and now you’re wanting me to pretend he didn’t screw me over publicly just so he won’t feel bad that I can’t fucking stand him right now?!”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asks.

“None of your fucking business!” I sneer at him.

“Get the fuck out, Vivian, Jesus.” Vince starts up.

“Oh, go scissor Bret Michaels and mind your own fucking business, bitch boy.” I shoot at him.

Liquor is drenching my dress when Vince is grabbing Tommy’s drink and throwing it on me, causing me to see red.

“What the fuck, Vince?!” Nikki barks at him, as Vince says:

“Get get your fucking ring back from the bitch Sixx chose over you.”

I’m lashing out, my nails dragging across Vince’s cheek as my flat palm hits his other cheek as hard as it can, causing the harsh stinging noise to echo through the room, as Doc and Fred both yell at us as we’re pried apart.

“Rabid Bitch!” Vince seethes, trying to fight past Doc to get to me, but Fred’s stepped in front of me, keeping me from going to Vince, too.

“Murderer!”

The room goes silent immediately, their faces falling in shock as Vince just looks disgusted with me.

"Vivian." Doc starts, about to scold me.

"Everyone's got a fucking slap on the wrist, doesn't matter if you fucking overdose or actually kill someone, everybody just gets a fucking slap on the fucking wrist but the second I finally act like something isn't okay, the second I protest just glossing over the fact Nikki Fucking God Damn Sixx did something shitty, I'm a fucking bitter, hateful, rabid, disgusting bitch because apparently 'I should've known better'!" I outburst, taking a few deep breaths, calming down, trying not to cry before I focus on Doc. "I can smile for the cameras. I can force myself to stomach the idea of loving him in the public eye. But I refuse to just turn the other way and act like everything's okay behind closed doors, and you can't fucking make me." I say venomously to Doc before I'm storming out of the dressing room, seeing all the roadies that were around to hear the hell breaking loose behind the closed door of the dressing room.

The next couple days consists of me just staying in my hotel room, avoiding everyone except Fred, that is until…

I keep my head down, my hand gripping at Nikki’s as we all file out of the bus in the parking lot of the hotel as my other hand shields my sunglass-adorned eyes, hearing the shouts of questions from the paparazzi as all of us head to the entrance of the hotel with security trying to keep fans and the media at bay.

Almost as soon as we step foot into the hotel lobby, free from the press and witnesses, Nikki and I are dropping our hands from each other and pulling away as quickly as possible as if we’re magnetically repellent.

“Alright, shower, strip club.” Tommy names off their agenda to Nikki, Vince, and Mick. “Viv, you wanna--”

“--No.” I turn him down before he can even properly invite me, my eyes shifting to Nikki, who averts his gaze from me the second I look at him.

“But, Viv--”

“--Just leave her out of it, Tommy. She doesn’t wanna go.” Nikki tells him flatly, heading to the elevator.

“I can speak for myself, thank you.” I hiss back to him.

“Don’t start shit with me, Vivian. I’m not in the mood.” He snaps.

“What, fight with your girlfriend?” I ask as the elevator doors open.

“Go fuck yourself.” He snarls out, walking into the elevator and I’m right behind him.

“Don’t worry, I have been, being that you won’t ever touch me again.” I argue.

I guess everyone else decides not to ride in an elevator with us in case a fist fight ensues and they get caught in it.

I stare at him, his eyes covered with his sunglasses, his hair matted and sweaty from his show, his skin pale from his body purging the toxic mixture of drugs and alcohol from his system.

“Quit fucking staring at me.” He mumbles, and instead of saying something smart back or just hitting him, I look away, feeling a sadness wash over me as I notice he hasn’t taken his wedding ring off yet since we left the press behind.

“You’re not gonna take it off?” I ask, suddenly, trying to keep my tone neutral.

He doesn’t even have to ask what I’m talking about, he just knows.

I see him glance down at his ring finger before balling his left hand into a slight fist before relaxing it.

“We’re still married.” Is all he says before the doors open and he heads to his room.

I make my own separate room, unlocking the door, being met with the bland smell of a simple hotel room.

I’m used to hotel rooms smelling like Nikki.

Getting my jacket off, I step to the bathroom and get my makeup off and brush my teeth for bed before getting pajamas on. When I get to my bed, I notice something that wasn’t there before I left for the show: one of my tshirts that I left at the last hotel we were at in Texas.

Knowing who grabbed it for me, and why I should not smell it because it’s just going to make me sad, I bring it to my nose and feel my body tense in on itself, my heart heavy as his smell infiltrates my senses, and brings tears to my eyes.

How many times have I nearly talked to him, kissed him, touched him, smiled at him, all out of habit, only to realize why we are where we are in this shit to begin with?

I miss him.

He is with me everyday but I still miss him.

I exhale and climb into bed, clinging to the shirt that smells like him, closing my eyes and pretending I’m with him.

It suddenly occurs to me that the last time I kissed him, hugged him, held him, laughed with him, saw him in the shining light that I did--I didn't realize it was the last time.

Now I’ve got myself crying, and I wipe the stray tears, trying not to think about it anymore but I can’t help it.

I thought I put my absolute everything into every laugh, every kiss, every hug, every smile...but I didn’t. If I knew then what I know now, I would have.

I squeeze my eyes closed, before snatching the covers off, and go to my door, opening it, and marching to Nikki’s door.

A part of my hopes he hasn’t gone to the strip club yet, another part of me--the sane part--hopes he has.

I knock on the door and in a couple minutes it’s swinging open to reveal a hellish looking Nikki.

Trying not to cry, but failing, I lick my lips and finally get it off my chest.

“I didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’ to us.” I state, shakily, and he looks as defeated as I do.

“Vivian--”

“--You robbed me of getting to say ‘goodbye’, of being prepared to say ‘goodbye’. I wasn’t ready to not be with you, I wasn’t ready to have every reason to leave you thrown in my face. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you, and you stole that from me.” I tell him. “I didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’.” I repeat, a tear falling past my lashes.

He just looks down, letting me say what I need to and I take a deep breath, sniffle, and press my lips to his, catching him off guard.

It takes him no time to respond, the both of us letting out relieved hums as our tongues meet and he pulls me into the room with him, slamming the door behind me.

His hands are immediately pulling my shirt up, and I’m fumbling to get his belt unbuckled, being interrupted by him tugging my pajama shorts off, his lips grazing over my thigh, up my abdomen, between my breasts, and pressing to my neck before finding my lips again.

I let out a soft sigh, wrapping my arms around him, my bare chest pressed against him, his tongue moving in sync with mine.

He's pulling away in a few seconds, taking deep breaths, staring down at me, confused.

"What?" I ask softly, blinking up at him.

"What are we doing, Viv?”

I don’t answer, not really knowing what to say to begin with.

“Huh?” He questions. “We never got to talk about it, we never--”

"--Nikki--"

"--You didn't want to talk to me about it, you didn't--"

"--There was nothing to say--"

"--I had plenty to say, Vivian."

"Nikki, it doesn't matter now."

"It doesn't matter? Are you fucking crazy? 'It doesn't matter'?!"

"I-It does, but--"

"--But what, Vivian? You just wanna pretend it didn't fucking happen or something?" He snaps.

"No, I don't want to pretend it didn't happen, Nikki, that's why I got so upset with Doc the other night because he wanted me to act like everything was fine, even behind closed doors, and I don't want to do that."

"Then why the fuck are you here?" He asks me.

Apparently I get the wrong look on my face that blatantly tells him what I'm up to…and he starts laughing.

"You're gonna fuck me and leave me?!” He cackles, taking a step back and I go to speak, but I’m unable to. There’s nothing I can say, and my silence confirms it. "Holy shit you sneaky cunt."

“Nikki, stop--”

“--Were you gonna tell me you had no intention of trying to actually work shit out with me and you were just using me to make yourself feel better for a couple hours, or were you just gonna hand me fucking divorce papers and a pen the second I came in you?” He sneers.

“Nikki, I’m not trying to use you.” My voice cracks as tears come to my eyes.

“Did you come to talk about what happened and try to get somewhere, or just fuck one last time for the hell of it?” He demands and I take a breath, trying to get my head together enough to try to figure out why, myself. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get the fuck out.” He pushes me away from him.

“If you’ll let me explain--”

“--The fuck is there to explain?! I cheated on you, you left, then you come back, patronize every fucking person that's fucked up, and then try to get your rocks off on my dick one last time like some pathetic slut. You either fucking hate me and you’re leaving, or you don’t and you’re not. I’m not doing the whole ‘friends with benefits’ bullshit with my own fucking wife!”

“A majority of our marriage has been ‘roommates with benefits’ so why the hell does it matter to you now that I just want one last night?!” I outburst suddenly and he rolls his jaw.

“Get the fuck out.” He repeats, shaking his head a little.

“No.” Tears topple over my lashes and I lick my lips, shaking my head.

“Vivian, I’m not fucking telling you again. Get the fuck out or I’m making you leave.”

“Nikki, plea--”

He’s suddenly grabbing at my arms, pulling my naked body from the floor.

“--Nikki, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“--You were gonna hump and dump me and you ‘didn’t mean’ it?!” He pulls me to the door while I struggle against him.

“Nikki, it was just for one last time, just so I could remember.” I plead, my hands grasping at his shirt, my eyes--blurry from tears--looking up at his. “Please, just one last time.” I beg, weakly, and he clenches his jaw, the ghosting of tears in his eyes for a second before he says:

“If it’s gonna be the last time…" his voice cracks, before it seems like he's forcing himself to "man up."

"...I don't want to remember it." He says next.

“Nikki, please--no!” I fight with him when he gets his door open.

"Bye, Viv." I almost don't recognize the man speaking to me, he sounds so fucking distant, cut off, as if the Nikki Sixx I met at the Starwood years ago took a step back and someone else had to come forward and get me out.

“Nikki, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just please, don’t do thi--Nikki!” I cry when he shoves me out of the room, completely naked, and slams the door after leaving my pajamas at my feet.

My theory was and is today that, that moment, that "bye, Viv" was his way of finalizing what he thought was the end of us, because after that night, he acted like he despised and hated me, up until the last few nights of the Crüe's Japan tour when he called me multiple times in the middle of night, crying, fucked up, pleading, finally telling me how much he loved me.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #mötley crüe #gateway drug

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