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angelofrainfrogs · 8 months

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Spend the Night: Ch. 28

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

All stay strong

We live eternally

All is well in the Afton family

Lives, they fell to pure insanity

All is hell in the Afton family

~Afton Family by KryFuZe~

Gregory watched Charlie leave to brave the halls with Vanessa. He’d miss her. He knew that it’d feel odd not having her watchful presence at his side. A sigh escaped his lips, and he left the vicinity of the couch to gawk at his reflection in the mirror. Once he was positioned on Freddy’s chair, he braced his hands atop the vanity and peered into the reflective glass, pulling a long face when he realized exactly what Vanessa was freaking out about.

He looked dead. Or at the very least, extremely ill. He blinked and pulled a few funny faces, and still didn’t recognize himself.

“Guys—am I ugly?” Gregory asked, turning to gauge Michael and Freddy’s reactions. Knowing them, his family might lie to save his feelings.

“What—no, you’re not ugly!” Michael responded, coming over to stand behind Gregory. He turned the boy’s head back to the mirror, meeting his gaze in the glass.

“You should’ve seen William in that nasty old springlock suit… now that was ugly. And smelly. Ugh…” He pulled an exaggerated face of disgust, which soon turned into a playful smirk. “As Charlie would say, you’re adorable—look at this face!”

In a sudden attack, Michael swooped his hands around to pinch Gregory’s cheeks, not hard enough to hurt but enough to thoroughly annoy him. Ignoring Gregory’s attempts to push him away, Michael glanced at Freddy who’d joined them by the vanity. “Surely you agree your kid is the farthest thing from ugly, right, Fredbear?”

“Most certainly!” Freddy replied with a chuckle, deciding it best not to intervene in their brotherly struggle.

While this did reassure Gregory, he had to fend off the annoying little pinches Michael attempted to land on the baby fat of his face. Still, he had a feeling he’d remain a little subconscious due to Vanessa’s reaction—that definitely wasn’t the only one he’d get to that degree.

What’s wrong with him?

Well… I died. What’s her excuse? he thought glancing back to their shared reflections.

“My eyes aren’t too bad, right?” He’d hate to give someone a heart attack, thinking a ghost was walking around trying to stare into people’s souls.

But then again, so what if they did? Gregory could choose to feel bad about his situation, or he could move past it—at least until they had less important things to deal with.

“—Actually! You know what? I don’t care. Let them be creeped out. I’m fine the way I am,” he said definitively, taking back the negativity as he gave himself a determined pout in the mirror.

“You’re lucky your immortality just made you a little paler, kid; you could’ve turned purple,” Michael said with a grimace, subconsciously shooting a look towards the vent near the ceiling. His shoulders sunk a bit as he thought aloud: “We should probably fill Ennard in on the plan and tell them to give the ghosts down below a heads-up that we’ll be heading there later.”

To Freddy, the sudden switch in Michael’s train of thought almost seemed like whiplash. Although, he was starting to put the pieces together—it was blatantly clear that Ennard directly connected with another bad event in Michael’s past. Still, the animatronic had only been helpful to the group in the Pizzaplex and Mike seemed to tolerate them well enough to look past what happened before… for now.

“Do you want to call Ennard in here?” Freddy suggested, thinking Michael might feel a little more at ease in the comfortable room as opposed to the dimly lit storage area. Mike instantly started to shake his head, although he caught Gregory’s silver eyes in the mirror and paused.

“Well… it’s up to Gregory,” Michael said slowly. He certainly wasn’t as concerned about the boy getting hurt, although he still wasn’t going to let him with grabbing distance of the amalgamation. “I can talk to Ennard anywhere; I’ll leave it up to Gregory’s comfort level.”

Gregory looked to the top vent, following Michael’s line of sight.

“The carpet clown?” Gregory asked. Despite their demolition of Roxy under the raceway, Ennard was far too silly to scare him. Though he didn’t know exactly what Ennard had done to Mike, it’d been enough to mentally scar the man. Gregory aimed to show that at least he was alright with the creature. “It’s cool. I’m all good!”

It was then that an eyeball popped unceremoniously from the vent. It gazed down at them from the ceiling with an odd appreciative glance—like the way people stare at monkeys in the zoo.

“WE CAN COME OUT…?” asked the voice from on high. They'd apparently been waiting for permission.

“Yeah, come on—just stay over there,” Michael instructed, pointing to the corner of the room. It was on the opposite side from where he, Freddy, and Gregory stood, but even so Michael ushered Gregory off the chair, situating the boy in front of him with a protective hand on his shoulder.

“Were you able to hear any of our discussions, Ennard?” Freddy asked as the amalgamation began making its way into the room. Clearly they’d been listening in, though for how long was anyone’s guess. No one but Ennard themselves knew how they delegated their time between spying on Michael verses other members of the Pizzaplex.

Ennard dropped from the vent and the room shook where they impacted, leaving echoes of their entrance as they waved to the group.

“WE HAVE BEEN LISTENING SINCE LAST NIGHT...” Ennard replied honestly. While Ennard hadn’t been privy to William’s plan with the plushie, they saw when Michael rushed past the bathroom doors and watched him try to pull his brother from danger.

“WE CAN TELL THE REST... TOGETHER... OR WE CAN GO ALONE...” they would reply in regards to the plan. “STAYING... LESS... CONSPICUOUS...”

Though they remained a few yards back where Mike instructed, their many lines of sight flicked to Gregory ever so often, watching him. One child in the room, but one adult—and one animatronic.

Besides, the part of them that held certain compulsions was expelled long ago anyway.

There was a second where an indescribable spike of rage shot up Michael’s spine when Ennard mentioned they’d been listening in since last night. He wanted to scream at the thing, asking why they didn’t warn him about Gregory’s impending danger housed in a soft toy—

But the fury subsided just as quickly when logic won out: if Ennard was following Michael, how were they to know what William was up to?

“Uh… I don’t know,” Mike responded, loosening his unintentional grip on Gregory’s shoulder and patting it in silent assurance that he was alright.

It would certainly be less conspicuous for Ennard to slink down through the vents and warn the others, but… Michael couldn’t help but want to see Henry one more time before dragging William along. It was a selfish thought, especially without Charlie, but they also had Gregory’s Fazwatch hooked into the camera feeds, as well as Ennard themselves to play lookout.

A frown creased the android’s brow as a question rang through his mind that he’d never quite gotten the answer to. He looked to Ennard, disregarding its twitching and the usual wires slowly inching closer. It was a shot in the dark if Ennard would actually be able to answer his query, but he had to try—and whatever response he got would help sway his decision of whether to wait things out or take a preemptive trip downstairs.

“Ennard,” he began slowly, flinching involuntarily when all their eyes snapped to him at once. “There’s other spirits down there besides Cassidy and Henry. Do you happen to know how many? Or… who they are?”

Ennard's head snapped, twitching and shivering at the thought of the ghosts. The one they had to physically remove from their body, and the one who hung in the shadows, always just outside Ennard's field of vision.

“TWO.” He answered, eyes locking back onto Michael with intensity. “CASSIDY'S FRIEND... AND CIRCUS BABY...” was all he could identify them as.

The clown had become so bossy. Her demeanor was infecting their systems. Everyone apart of Ennard had been tired of taking the orders of a scorned child... So Ennard tended to avoid parts of the basement with Circus Baby lurking around.

As for the near-inseparable kids that had once shared the same empty springlock suit, Ennard couldn't recall the littlest one’s name. He never mentioned it, and Ennard had frankly never asked. Cassidy was always protective of him anyway, asserting that they’d end up scaring her friend should they hang around.

“Oh.”

The word was breathed out like someone had punched Michael in the gut, knocking all the air from his lungs in one go. He leaned heavily against the wall, one hand fisted in his hair and the other flat against the checkered paneling behind him. Mike's gaze was suddenly far away, no longer seeing those in the room but the smiling faces of his siblings staring up at him.

Before his eyes they transformed, Evan's face and hair suddenly matted in dark, staining blood—but only for a second before he turned into the eerie Golden Freddy suit, sitting with its head cocked at an unnatural angle even for an animatronic.

Lizzie became the robot she'd most wanted to see, Circus Baby all dolled up and shiny... and then she changed again too, shifting to the mangled, scrapyard version that sat across the table from Michael in the darkness of Henry's false pizzeria.

“Oh god; why?” Michael muttered, completely lost in his own world. He was pulling his hair hard, though he felt no pain. It was a wonder he didn't tug any of the brown locks out. “Why couldn't they go with the others...?”

“Michael, it is alright,” Freddy said softly, moving to comfort. The man jumped as a cool metal paw gently pulled his hand away, blank eyes staring up at Freddy for a few seconds before he blinked back to the present. Michael's gaze whipped around to Ennard, then to Gregory still by his side.

“Shit... sorry,” he muttered. “I... I know exactly who the spirits are—exactly who I expected. My siblings.” He managed the smallest, huffing laugh; he really shouldn't be surprised they'd stick around to see this through as well. “They're just as damn stubborn as I am, apparently...”

Ennard had seen Michael in such intense pain only once before... They felt entirely awkward, watching Mike have a panic attack at the information they so willingly handed over. Ennard raised their hands; their instinct to go to his side was strong.

Yet common sense was stronger. Michael surely wouldn't appreciate their touch. Though Ennard had been surprised to learn the deeper identities of these lost souls.

“WE SHOULD SHOW YOU WHERE—WHERE—WHERE THEY ARE.” Ennard offered a solution, moving towards the backroom. The chances of getting either Freddy or Michael to move in through the vents was more unlikely than an asteroid impacting the Pizzaplex.

“...Can we see them? Just for a minute, I... we don't have to stay long, I just... I need to see them before my father gets to them,” Michael said, looking to Freddy as if he was his—much preferable—dad that needed to give him permission before going out. Michael grimaced, but before he could even begin to unpack this Freddy responded with:

“If we are assured that William is nowhere along the path and we are very cautious, I believe we can.” The bear offered a smile, squeezing Michael's hand once before releasing it in favor of running his paw through Gregory's hair. “Besides, I do not think there is anything useful we can do until we receive word from Charlie and Vanessa. Additionally, it would be beneficial to know the best route down to the basement for when we are able to gain William's attention—the less unknown factors in this operation, the better.”

Freddy looked to Ennard then, his gaze measured and focused on the clown mask. “You will show us the safest path?”

Gregory was shocked, watching the time Michael was having. As Freddy reassured him with a swipe of his paw into his hair, Gregory gave him a soft smile and grabbed Mike’s hand. Michael tried to be strong; so strong that when he faced things he couldn't stand, he simply crumbled beneath the weight.

“It'd be nice to know the plan anyway,” Gregory pointed out. He’d also like to see these ghosts himself before they had a chance to jump scare him.

Ennard lifted their hand, eerily stretching it up to press an extended pointer finger over the mouth of their still mask. Mismatched eyes met Gregory's pale grey ones, and the animatronic whispered.

“IT'S A SURPRISE...” Before returning their collective attention to a distressed Michael and doting Freddy. “I WILL GUIDE—GUIDE AND PROTECT...”

“Thank you,” Michael said, directing it to everyone. Even Ennard deserved a miniscule amount of acknowledgement, for without them Mike would've gotten the shock of his life upon seeing his siblings in the basement. He kept a hold of Gregory's hand, not willing to let go as they traveled, although he did raise the boy's wrist up to see the Fazwatch. “Alright, let's check those cameras—if the coast is clear, we can go.”

Freddy shifted to the side, trusting their combined judgement on whether it was safe to move. While they examined the feeds, Freddy examined Ennard.

Despite Michael slowly spilling his heart out over the course of the weekend about his family and personal struggles, his past with Ennard was mostly a mystery. Getting even a smidgen of information was like pulling teeth, and while Freddy respected Mike's wishes to keep things to himself, the bear couldn't help his curiosity on not only how they were connected, but what exactly Ennard was... and their purpose. Clearly there were a few animatronics that made up their body, as evidenced by the multitude of eyes and tendency to speak in the plural. Freddy knew they cared for Michael in their own, weird way and seemed ambivalent to everyone else, but... that was about it.

He'd have to see if he could speak to the animatronic alone at some point, simply to ask them a few questions—although that could be done once all of this was over. For now, it was time for Freddy to finally meet the literal ghosts of Michael's past, including the good founder of the company that made his very existence possible.

Ennard's many eyes watched Freddy as they led the way. The ones jutting from the back of their shoulder and just over where a kidney might be, were they human, blinked in a simulated fashion. Once the group had stopped, they too glanced around the corner with intrigue.

Things in this place typically ran from the amalgamate. The DJ so far had not appreciated them crawling through his tunnels, his mini-bots scurrying for cover each time the scraping of wires echoed through the vents.

Ennard was just happy that Michael may be finally softening up to them! Unfortunately, they failed to realize that Mike tolerating their presence was merely malicious compliance.

Together Gregory and Michael watched the feeds, switching between them in the backrooms, searching the surrounding areas before repeating a second time. It was worth it not to run into any other odd things William may have unleashed into the Pizzaplex. After another round watching the camera feeds, Gregory found little to see—

Then, a familiar pink leotard caught Gregory's eye. Chica. More dirty and busted than ever, she’d moved far from the garbage patch Mike and Charlie left her in. It would be unreasonable to think she had gotten into that back office by herself.

“Ch-Chica's out?” Gregory asked in disbelief, minding the volume of his voice. “But how? Charlie crushed her! She shouldn't be moving!”

“What?!” Freddy exclaimed, practically lifting Gregory off the ground by his arm in his haste to see the Fazwatch's screen.

To his utter shock, the boy was right: there was their old, faux-feathered friend, lurching along like she was about to fall over any second. It was hard to tell, but Freddy swore her beak and a good chunk of her face was gone... He hadn't seen the remains of her after being subjected to the garbage disposal and hoped he wouldn't have to.

“We can't let her see us,” Michael whispered, looking towards the direction the camera came from, which just so happened to be the one in which they were headed. He scanned the area and found a little janitor's closet on the other side of the hallway, and a quick jiggle of the handle proved it was miraculously unlocked. “In here—come on! We can wait until she goes past, then backtrack and find another way.”

The sounds of shambling, scrapping metal had grown closer as the crew entered the closet. Ennard themselves did not follow. Gregory held the door, but Ennard shook their head and took the handle, overpowering Gregory by pulling it shut.

“STAY INSIDE,” their gurgling, static-laden voice whispered.

There was a slight knock, the sound of Ennard blocking the door with his body as Chica rounded the corner on a painful limp. She even sounded like she was crying. Her voice box had fallen out, and the unrefined noise generating from her endoskeleton created a weeping, scratching sound. Glancing around with eyes rolling in their sockets, Chica immediately stopped in her torturous romp through the dark hallways.

She didn’t stop for having noticed the family’s escape, though—she paused because whatever stood in front of the janitor's closet wasn't something she wanted to mess with. The intimidating stare of the mysterious clown figure was already too much when she was horribly injured and in a state of deep disrepair.

As quickly as possible Chica moved on, not even daring to look back as she retreated the way she came.

The group huddled together and watched the camera as Chica stopped, staring at Ennard for an agonizing amount of time before shuffling on. Freddy's mechanical heart ached at the sight of her, and he had to fight the urge to push open the door and offer his help and consolation. He just kept reminding himself that after tonight, they'd get everyone fixed up and together again.

But... No, that wasn't quite true. Freddy wouldn't be with them anymore—not if he moved to a new body.

The slow, quiet motion of the door opening broke Freddy's train of thought. He tensed, arms wrapped around Michael and Gregory, though upon seeing it was only Ennard the bear relaxed his grip.

“Thank you,” he murmured, going so far as to gently pat Ennard's shoulder as he passed, being sure to avoid one of the eyes that blinked at him in surprise.

The group lingered just outside the door as they gathered their bearings and triple-checked the way forward—the closest Michael had allowed them to get too Ennard since they began stalking them. When comparing immediate threats, Ennard was much lower on the list than the stumbling, broken Glamrocks. However, that didn't mean they were completely without their problems.

“Ennard, I swear to god, if that wire tightens around my waist anymore I'm going to rip one of your eyes off and crush it,” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, trying to dislodge the relatively thin wire that'd snaked itself around his torso the moment he stupidly paused in Ennard's bubble. Even if this was supposed to be some sort of disturbing attempt at “comfort,” Michael wasn't here for it. For all he knew, Ennard was checking to see if this new body had a set of organs they could scoop out just like old times.

Ennard had squeezed around the smallest part of Michael's waist, the coil as thick as a strand of yarn—yet it remained to be an annoyance until it snaked off of Mike’s person. Still, they took their time trailing the wire down his leg to drag across the floor.

“MIKE IS OKAY..?” Ennard asked, attempting to be emotionally reliant like they had seen Gregory or Charlie be.

“I don't think he wants to be touched right now, big guy,” Gregory clued the socially unaware monster of a robot in before deciding to lead the charge down the cramped hall. No point in dawdling; Michael had family to see, and Gregory and Freddy had new ghosts to meet!

It may not’ve been outwardly obvious to their little group, but Gregory had been trying to display some sense of responsibility and awareness. He felt like since his accident, Freddy may not believe him capable of doing things on his own anymore.

“I'm fine,” Michael responded to Ennard tartly, shooting him a glare as he shuffled after Gregory. The feeling of that thin metal trailing across his body brought back things he did not need to remember right now.

He moved to Gregory's side, slipping his hand into his brother's and squeezing it in silent thank you for sticking up for him. He could tell the boy was trying to be the strong one through all of this, and Michael appreciated it. Freddy simply followed along, happy to take up the rear so Ennard could point Gregory in the right direction. The bear would occasionally glance over his shoulder, expecting to see a flash of pink rushing towards him, but the path behind them was deathly silent.

“TAKE... THIS DO—OR,” Ennard alerted the young boy. Gregory acknowledged them with a nod, eyes glued to his watch as he scanned the next room intently before walking on through.

“Just a heads up—” Gregory told the crew. “—we’ve officially hit the basement. Past this warehouse section, we'll be blind as far as cameras go.”

The way had become dark to the others, but Gregory walked confidently with hardly any lighting.

“WE ARE CLOSE... I CAN HEAR HER...” Ennard froze up at their place besides Freddy. With knocking knees and their hands pulled and tucked by his chest, Ennard had stopped in the hall. “AHEAD. GO DOWN, KEEP GOING—THEY'RE INSIDE THE PIZZERIA...”

Freddy and Michael's eyes were equipped to see in dim lighting, but they didn't seem as confident as Gregory as the atmosphere shifted. When Ennard stopped, Freddy looked back to them with a concerned tilt of the head. “You cannot go any farther? Why?”

“Just leave them,” Michael said, waving a nonchalant hand, correctly guessing that Ennard wasn't too fond of his little sister. He remembered their bickering, so loud and echoing in his head for a week straight. God, it was a wonder he hadn't gone completely insane...

Grabbing Freddy's hand as well, Michael took charge and continued their trip into the depths below. They were in another area of inactivity, a place Gregory had never been before—somewhere the living weren’t meant to be. Eventually, their path led them to quite a sight: the burned, dilapidated façade of a diner.

Chains barred the doors, but it only took a few pointed kicks for Mike to break the rusted links. The main room was lit by a few naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling and the trio made their way inside clutching each other in an iron grip. They stopped just over the threshold of the front door, listening for the spirits within.

A faint metallic clicking could be heard, distinct from Ennard’s movement. There was a thick, silent pause, before something in the shadows asked in the very distinct, soft voice of a little girl:

“...Who is it?”

“Lizzie?” Michael asked, his own voice hesitant and strained. “It... it's Michael. Are you... can I come in? I, um... I brought some new friends, too. We wanted to s-see you.”

There was another pregnant pause, before a lock clicked to a side room. In unison, the group turned and Gregory’s surprisingly well-adjusted eyes caught the glimpse of a... trash can moving?

The lump of metal darted forward, fast and sharp as it stopped mere inches from Gregory's face. In the two seconds it’d taken the completely scrapped animatronic clown to rise up and greet Gregory, he presumed this must be Michael’s little sister. She managed to scare a silent scream from Gregory's throat, causing the boy to fall backwards. He hit the ground as his mouth hung open from shock.

“You're strange...,” Liz told him, her crudely made hand resting on one of the sharp ruffles of her tutu. Though once she saw her brother—really saw him—her blackened eyes softened to a degree of heartache.

It was Michael as she’d known him in life. He looked like home, something Elizabeth wanted desperately to curl up next to and tell him about the lonely years she spent on the streets. But she couldn't. All she could do was stare at him.

“How are you doing that..?” she asked, wondering for a moment if this was a trick. A leftover hallucination caused by Henry's audio prompts. Their deceptive ruse had her seeing and hearing things that would never present themselves in front of her, even years later. Michael would never have come back to her willingly; she assured herself of that long ago. His soul had given up its ghost and moved on.

Like Susie and the rest.

Like her mother...

She barely registered the Glamrock bear, solely focused on the solid form of her older brother. Blinking, Lizzie came to the conclusion that this was a moment of true lucidity. Despite it all, for some reason Mike had actually returned.

“You… You really came back for us?”

“Of course I did!” Michael's tone was placating, though with an undercurrent of regret and relief combined in a way that made him sound like he wanted to cry. The sight of Lizzie's soul in such a burned, beat-up body would've been shocking had Michael not already witnessed it before.

“I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner,” he continued, managing a shaky smile as he stared up at her. “I never should've left you alone for so long... B-But I'm here now, and I'm going to help make things right as best I can.” He paused, his gaze roaming over the state of his sister.

Before he realized Lizzie's soul was trapped in Circus Baby after the horrible day she'd disobeyed their father for the last time, Michael had looked upon the animatronic with nothing but disgust. When he finally figured out that she was in there, hidden away and pretending to be something she wasn't, he still couldn't stand the sight of the cheerfully smiling clown. Yet now, the only thing he saw was the soul underneath, lonely and aching and deserving to be free.

“I missed you a lot, you know,” Michael murmured, a few tears escaping unbidden. He wiped them away, trying his best to be strong for his family.

Speaking of family, his new friend Freddy was currently having quite a time trying to process the animatronic before his eyes. His databank registered this as “Circus Baby,” although she did not match the reference image. She'd been changed, altered from years of torment, though Michael didn't seem scared in the slightest. When it was clear Lizzie wasn't a threat to anyone's well-being Freddy turned his attention to Gregory, who by now had gotten up and was wandering towards the other side of the room and pointedly trying to get away from the second freaky clown he'd encountered this weekend.

Elizabeth managed to produce the essence of a dower expression through the fixed smile lighting up her burned face. She cast her gaze down, touching her hand to the massive clawed arm as she furrowed her brow at the kindness Michael displayed towards her.

“You shouldn't,” she protested with a quiet sternness. “I hurt you, Michael. Deliberately.”

Perhaps years of abuse had finally caught up to the both of them, and now they couldn't trust their own feelings. How could Mike truly both understand and forgive her?

Gregory moved towards the soot-blackened glass doors of the pizzeria. Impossible to see in from the outside, Gregory found escape from the giant... clown crab to be unnecessary now. So he relaxed with her in his sights, crossing his arms as he leaned against various pieces of soot-stained junk.

The main pillar of his comfort had been a plush, half-rotted yellow bear suit. It reeked of mildew, though honestly Gregory knew he didn't smell great after a week without bathing. The ancient Freddy model hardly bothered him and his racing heart.

“Oh no—don't you start that, too,” Michael said quickly, shaking his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Lizzie with all the sternness a big brother could muster, although the effect was slightly lessoned by the fact that he had to look up to meet her gaze. “You didn't realize what you were doing—er, at least, not who you were doing it to.”

He couldn't help the grimace that crossed his face, though he managed to wipe it away before it could linger and gave a heavy sigh.

“Look... let's just agree that we've both been really, really shitty siblings. But now we found each other again, and I just... I just want us to not hate each other, okay? We’re too fucking old for that; we need peace.” This time Michael's face did twist, teeth clenched together and brow furrowed as he stared hard at the ground. “I really hoped you'd left this place after the fire... you deserve to be free, Lizzie. You and Evan.”

Elizabeth perked at Michael's short explanation. Though Liz's spirit was powerful and vengeful, she suffered from similar issues as her father. Her impulsive anger and fancies had led her down a rather stark path in her life, following in her death and afterlife now. While things weren’t normally black and white, she hardly ever found things to be grey morality wise. She could either justify her actions, or vilify them.

“I'm not mad, Michael,” Liz sighed. “Not anymore... Stop being a dramatic dummy and come give me a hug? Just—watch the claw.”

It sounded less like a suggestion, and more of a question. Would he hug her? Could he after all that happened?

“Don't call me a dummy, dummy,” Michael responded with a laugh, the quip flowing easily off his tongue as if they were back in their childhoods before everything went wrong. He was quick to lean in, wrapping his arms around Lizzie's torso and giving her a squeeze

Lizzie would’ve given Mike the biggest squeeze in turn, if she wasn’t certain he’d snap in half. Instead she settled for petting between his shoulders with her good hand.

“I’m glad I stuck around,” she whispered. She found no sorrow in staying behind. If it meant she got to watch her father suffer a little more at a distance, it was fine. Now that all Lizzie’s sibling were here, it was worth the wait.

Evan's soul had perked up at the sight of Michael, though the golden Freddy suit remained motionless in its slumped-over position. As usual, Lizzie attracted the attention first, though Evan didn't mind right now—honestly, he'd been enjoying the peacefulness of being the only soul inside the bear. He'd been a little peeved at Charlie when Cassidy suddenly warped out of existence, only to return and inform him and Lizzie of the Puppet's reawakening. Why couldn't she have pulled them all out?

Still, he couldn't stay mad at Charlie for long. She hadn't asked to be the one pulling the strings that tied them to these fur and metal monstrosities, after all. She’d thought she was doing something good.

To Evan's surprise, Michael had brought along not only a shiny new Freddy model, but a kid as well. Evan couldn't get a good look at the boy, first because he was too far away and then because he was too close, using the golden bear as an unintentional pillow. Curious about who in the world this child was, Evan decided to try and speak to him. His voice was small and quiet as he whispered a faint:

“...Hi.”

Lizzie was pulled away from her moment with Mike ever so slightly, though refused to turn around as Gregory whipped his hand in an odd pattern. He batted the air by the old Freddy suit in fear as he let out a startled squeak! When Gregory realized his mistake, he touch the sides of his head.

“Crap! Oh no—dude, I'm so sorry! Uh, let me get your... Your head—” Gregory laughed a little scrambling to grab the upper segment of who he assumed to be Evan as it rolled across the floor. Though he kept his chuckles to a polite minimum, as the last thing he wanted was to be perceived as laughing at Michael's sibling. He held up the heavy, moldy Freddy mask with a triumphant smile, ignoring the way the crude fur stuck uncomfortably to his fingers. “Here we go. Hi, by the way!"

“Why's it always gotta be my head?” Evan groaned, lapsing into silence as said object was resituated onto the slumped-over bear.

Cassidy was usually the one to take charge and control the suit, forcing Evan to take a backseat through most of their afterlife. It wasn't that he couldn't move the bear—he'd certainly been in the damn thing long enough to learn how to control it—he simply wasn't used to being front and center. Finally, Evan was able to get a good look at the new kid. This time, there was a subtle shift—a faint pinprick of light in the dark, cavernous eye sockets that seemed to move up and down as Evan let out a gasp of shock.

“Whoa... you... y-you look just like me!” he exclaimed, voice wavering a little bit. Always the nervous one, Evan Afton. But to be fair this was a weird situation, to be suddenly faced with what could be his identical twin. The pinprick eyes shifted to Michael across the room, then back to the boy. “I-I'm Evan, by the way. Um... how do you know Mike?”

The voice that echoed from the inside the suit was sweet and mild, with an odd sort of accent that Gregory couldn’t quite place. It reminded him a bit of those old black and white movies—like Evan had grown up being weaned off the British dialect of his siblings, yet was around them enough to inevitably incorporate some of it. Above it all, it was how calm the kid sounded that put Gregory at ease.

“Mike? Oh man—he saved me like a billion times!” Gregory confessed, wiping his hands off on his pants. “It’s cool to finally meet you. He and Charlie talk about you guys a lot!”

Gregory had reached out to fist bump Evan in greeting. Though a part of Gregory wondered if he could really move well when controlling the empty mascot.

Inside the suit, Evan was grinning from ear to ear. To know his brother and Charlie still talked about him after all these years made a warmth bloom in his chest that he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

Slowly a golden paw reached up, curling into a fist and gently touching its knuckles against Gregory’s. The huge paw dwarfed the boy’s tiny hand, but the gesture was clear. As Evan lowered his arm back down, he shifted into a more upright position. His movements were slow and measured, reminiscent of someone old and weary.

After releasing Lizzie, Michael glanced around the room to see what the others were up to. It was then that he caught sight of the golden Freddy animatronic settling itself against the wall, Gregory standing nearby and watching it with rapt interest. Instantly, Mike felt his mechanical heart drop.

There was Evan.

The little brother he’d so ruthlessly destroyed all those years ago, still trapped in the animatronic suit that was his downfall. Michael sucked in a shaky breath, wringing his hands as his face twisted into a mask of worry. Still keeping his eyes on the golden bear, he asked his sister:

“Lizzie? Does he… does Evan hate me?”

Michael was fully expecting the answer to be a resounding “yes.” How could it be anything else, after what he’d done?

Lizzie had nearly completely forgotten why Michael would ask such a thing. It caused her to look at her brother in alarm at first. Then when it finally clocked, Liz shook her head.

“No? He was really upset, for sure—I mean, you were an asshole. Never said he hated you, though,” she’d reply in honest candor. Elizabeth rolled her mechanical eyes. “He’s only been trying to get your attention for the past few decades!”

“…Oh,” was all Michael could respond. He spared a side-eyed glance at Lizzie, then began a slow shuffle towards the golden bear. Despite Lizzie’s encouraging words, Michael’s anxiety still wouldn’t be fully calmed until he heard them from Evan himself.

Enchanted by Evan’s state of existence, Gregory tried to peer inside the darkness of the suit. It seemed not even light could escape, and all he found were those twin, white pinholes. It soon registered that they were the same as what Puppet had in the depths of her empty sockets during Charlie’s possession. Were these Evan’s eyes, then?

“My name’s Gregory—almost forgot to introduce myself,” he laughed, excited to finally meet the kid that threw up blue popsicles around William Afton’s house. An absolute legend in Gregory’s opinion.

“Gregory… I like that name,” Evan said, not a hint of sarcasm to be found. He’d never been one to lie, his tendency to wear his emotions on his sleeve proving this near-impossible, especially when it came to him being upset. Although, somehow he and Michael still got up to quite a bit of mischief over the years…

The older brother in question had arrived at Gregory’s side, and the pinpricks of white snapped up to Michael’s face. The golden suit started to vibrate slightly with excitement—finally, Evan could talk to his self-lamenting sibling and tell him how he really felt.

“Mike! I mi—”

“Evan, I’m so fucking sorry!” Michael accidentally cut him off, too absorbed in his own thoughts to realize soft-spoken Evan was trying to talk. Sinking to his knees, Mike unintentionally matched Gregory’s height as he looked into the dark eyes of the decaying suit with the most guilt-ridden expression in the universe. “I’m sorry for everything… for what I did and for taking so long to realize you were still in there. I-I’ve been trying to set you free for so long, a-and I just wanted you to know that despite however you might feel about me, I love you and Liz more than anything!” He swallowed thickly, fists shaking where they rested atop his thighs. “…But I understand if you totally hate my guts.”

With that, Michael hung his head. The room was silent for a moment while everyone waited with baited, unnecessary breath for Evan’s response. Freddy took this opportunity to inch closer to Gregory, not necessarily to protect but just to better observe. He was having his own hell of a time processing everything, and couldn’t find the words to vocalize anything quite yet.

Eventually Evan spoke, the suit eerily still once again.

“Michael… it’s been like 40 years.” His tone was full of nothing but fond exasperation. “Yeah, of course I was mad at you for a while. I mean—yeah. But I haven’t been for a long time! I’ve been trying to tell you that, but either Cassidy hijacked my body when I got close or you just ran away!”

Michael bit back a sob of delirious relief. “Really…?”

“Yes! Oh my god—” The white dots rolled in affectionate annoyance, then flickered to Gregory. “—has he been like this all weekend?! He can get really stubborn and fixated on stuff… it drives me and Lizzie crazy!”

Gregory slung an arm around Michael, as he looked like he would collapse from emotional exhaustion any moment. He kept the poor guy propped up while nodding in confirmation to Evan.

“—Dude, the whole weekend,” Gregory remarked in good fun. “I’m really glad we found you guys; I feel like his internal motor was going to explode if he didn’t talk to you!”

Gregory could attest to the amount of times he and the gang consoled Michael over the tragedy. Lord knows he’d done the same for all of them, though that wouldn’t stop Gregory from affectionately picking on his friend.

“Correction; He’s been like this for years,” Lizzie inferred, her robotic body slanting to the heavier side slightly while she stood. She looked away, bashful as ever to admit when she’d been wrong. “We love you, dum-dum… Sorry I used you like a suit.”

Gregory looked up to the clown, noting her size, then back to Mike. What… exactly did that mean? That she wore his skin?

“You… Wha...”

Lizzie interrupted him with a charismatic wave of her claw. “Nothing. Don’t look so worried.”

Michael had closed his eyes while his siblings chattered around him, simply basking in the fact that he’d been forgiven. No amount of self-loathing could be worse than the feeling of Evan and Lizzie hating him for decades, cursing his very name for everything he’d done and all the hurt he’d caused the family.

But… they weren’t doing that. In reality, they’d been searching for their brother just as much as he’d been searching for them.

***

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nevermindirah · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

#nile freeman #linguistics #TOG POC Love Fest #nileweek2021 #tog meta #tog #long post #mine #antiblackness #jewish things #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

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megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms · 3 years

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Volterra

Based on this request: Hey Meg, dou you also write for the Volturi? Perhaps something about a human reader who stumbled inro their castle and wasn’t instantly killed? At first they let her live as amusement but somwhere along the line she befriended Jane and Marcus and developed feelings for Aro. But she doesn’t want to be turned to a Vampire. Living with your vampire friends as a human can be quite complicated. They make a fuss out of any minor injury, try to advocate for immortality and it’s really difficult not to let your crush know you like them when they can read your thoughts by touching your hand…Perhaps Jane and Marcus device a plan to get Aro and the reader together in order to make thhe reader change her mind of becoming one of them?

Here you go! *Familiar characters are NOT mine!*

Fandom: Twilight

Warnings: Fluff, Awkwardness.

Pairings/Characters: Aro Volturi x fem!reader, Jane Volturi, Marcus Volturi

Stumbling upon the castle in Volterra had been an accident. That castle being full of vampires had been unfortunate. Being kept alive because you amused said vampires had been sheer dumb luck. Slowly falling for most insane of the three leaders? Well that was as unexpected as two-by-four to the back of the head. And trying to keep those feelings a secret was damn near impossible when the object of your affection could read your mind with a simple touch.

When you had accidentally stumbled into Volterra castle and met the Volturi, you had been so scared. More scared than you had ever been in your life. But for some reason, they had found you amusing and decided to keep you. At first, you were treated like a form of their own personal entertainment but soon you were being treated as friend.

You formed quick friendships with Marcus and, to everyone's surprise, Jane. In fact, the only person who didn't seem to like you was the receptionist, but you thought she might have been a little jealous. All-in-all, you adjusted well to being in a castle surrounded by vampires.

There were of course issues with your situation. Because they couldn't let a human out in the world with their secret, you weren't really allowed to leave the castle. And heaven forbid you got hurt in any way, shape, or form. Every bump, bruise, and scrape had them all buzzing around you like worried mothers. It was pretty amusing, in all honesty. Then there was the time you caught a cold. Jane thought you were dying. Whenever anything like that happened, you had to hear about how they would all worry less if you would join them in immortality. You refused each time, but you had no idea that Jane and Marcus were plotting something to make you see things their way.

It never occurred to you that they had already set their plan in motion. You often found yourself alone with Aro. Whenever there was a chance, everyone else left the room whenever you entered it. It made you a flustered and awkward mess. Like really awkward. You didn't know how to interact with him. You had been very sure not to let Aro touch you, but you had a suspicion that he already knew how you felt about him. You weren't exactly subtle about it.

Whenever you were alone with Aro, you became a stuttering mess. Trying to keep your cool only made it worse. You were like the young, lovesick, teenagers on TV people liked to laugh at. It was horrible, but maybe it was just the effect Aro had on you. Either way, you hated how awkward the situation was. Aro didn't seem to mind though.

"Ah, Y/N! I was hoping to spend time with you today. Walk with me?" Aro offered his arm. You took it without hesitation. Was it smart? Probably not. He could kill you with a flick of his wrist if he wanted. But he hadn't show any signs that he was going to hurt you. At least not yet. Plus, Jane had conveniently left you wandering around part of the castle you weren't as familiar with. You didn't want to get lost so walking with Aro seemed like the best option.

As you walked, Aro made small talk. You smiled at the conversation as you let your gaze travel to the side of his face. This was one of the few times that Aro let his guard down and you wanted to commit it to memory. You hadn't realized that you had zoned out until Aro stopped, causing your hand to slip from his arm. As it did, your hand touched his. You inhaled sharply, but your hand wouldn't listen to your brain and move.

Aro froze so suddenly, you thought he'd turned into a statue. His eyes were unfocused as his head was overloaded with every thought you'd ever had, including the one you had been trying so hard to hide. After a moment, Aro blinked. He smiled at you. You couldn't speak. You were so embarrassed. You looked away from him, intent on running away.

"You could try, but you know I would catch you in a moment." You frowned and then remembered that your hands were still slightly touching. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't, that is, I wasn't-" Aro's light chuckle cut you off. "You have no need to apologize. I find myself in a similar situation." You blinked in surprise, making Aro laugh again.

"Why are you so surprised? You are, truly, the most beautiful and intriguing woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, immortal or human." You felt yourself flushing. Aro finally moved his hand so the two of you were no longer touching. He lifted the hand and offered it to you. "Shall we continue our walk?" For a moment, you looked between his hand and his face. Those milky red eyes regarded you with worry and perhaps a little amusement.

With only a second of hesitation, you let your hand slip into his. Aro practically preened under your touch. He brought it up to his mouth, pressing his cold lips against your heated skin. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. You were in a happy daze when Aro pulled away and began walking again.

"I'm glad this happened," you whispered. You knew he could hear you. Aro's lips upturned into a smile. "As am I, my dear. Although, we should inform Jane and Marcus. The two of them have been…enthusiastic in their attempts to get us alone together." You rolled your eyes. "Jane I get. She's been trying to find a way to get me to agree to immortality since I got here. Marcus? Not so much. I never pictured him as a busybody." Aro laughed and reminded you of Marcus' gift. "Perhaps he has seen a bond between us. He has been very cautious about allowing me to see his thoughts recently."

The thought both excited and worried you. Is what you were feeling for Aro because of some odd bond? Or were you in control? And if it was a result of a bond, what would happen if you and Aro were to lose those feelings for each other? Aro stopped walking again. "You fret too much, mi amore. If the bond is there, it can be broken by our own choices. And, unless it is the bond of a true mate, nothing would truly happen should we choose to pursue our current feelings for one another."

"What do you choose, Aro?" Aro didn't say anything for a moment. "I have waited a long time to meet someone like you. Someone that can make me feel something more. Even if you are not my true mate, I choose to try, if you will allow me? And maybe one day, you will choose an eternity with us here in Volterra. With me." You bit your lip and tried not to smile. Trust Aro to sound so awkward yet eloquent at the same time.

"Yes." That one word seemed to brighten Aro's entire being. "Finally," another voice broke into your little moment. You let out a little scream and jumped. You turned to face Jane with a glare. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Nosy Rosy?" Jane merely arched a blonde brow at the nickname. "My place is as Master Aro's guard today."

"So you heard…everything?" She smirked. "Yes. And I cannot wait to tell Master Marcus," she replied before speeding away. You moved to chase after her, but Aro held you back. "You realize, of course, that you would never catch her, do you not?" You turned your hard stare on Aro. "Yes. But it would make me feel better."

Aro laughed and shook his head fondly. "Perhaps I could be of assistance?" You beamed. "What did you have in mind?" In no time, Aro scooped you up bridal style and flashed away. Your peals of laughter bounced off the castle walls as the wind caused by Aro's speed wrang through your ears. You never knew Aro could be so playful, but you had to admit, you liked it. And, if this was a sign of things to come, you would have to give immortality and staying in Volterra some serious thought.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for! ALL taglists are open!)

#twilight #aro volturi #aro volturi x reader #aro x reader

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captainsophiestark · 4 years

Text

Returned

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Day Thirteen of Fictober!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Fictober Prompt: “I missed this.”

Summary: Reader and Kol were in love before Jeremy killed Kol. Reader's been trying to recover from his loss ever since, with basically no success. Reader's finally decided to give up and move on, and is headed to the Mikaelson compound to tell Kol's family just that when they get the biggest surprise of their life. Just a heads up, this does not follow the events of The Originals AT ALL.

Word Count: 1,255

Category: Angst, fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"So, uh... do you have any hobbies?"

"Mmm, not really. My life is pretty much my job."

The guy walking next to me laughed, like it was some great joke to do nothing but work day in and day out. I smiled and nodded to be polite, but I was mentally screaming. This date had been terrible from the moment it started, and now I was just hoping to find a way to end it.

Instead of asking about me, the guy just kept going on and on about the work he did in New Orleans and around the world. I honestly blocked him out as soon as he started speaking, and I didn't hear a single word he said. I managed to say goodbye and brush him off with a fake phone call as soon as I got a break in his speech, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I disappeared around a corner and finally got some space.

Dating sucked.

I shook my head and glanced down at my phone. I didn't really have anything to do today, so I merged back into the crowd of the French Quarter and started wandering. Maybe it was time for me to swear off dating for a while.

My thoughts strayed as I walked, and I couldn't help thinking of Kol. Kol Mikaelson, the immortal original vampire, had been the love of my life. We had a whole list of plans for our future; he was going to turn me, we were going to ditch his family and all their drama for a century at least, and we were going to spend that time traveling the world and being with each other. All that had been derailed when Jeremy Gilbert had driven the white oak stake through his heart.

I knew Kol's world was dangerous, but I never really thought I'd have to worry about him. He was supposed to be damn near unkillable, after all. But I was wrong. I'd lost the love of my life more than a year ago now, and I hadn't gotten over it.

I'd been on a few dates since then, trying to fill the void and put myself out there again with the hope of recovering a little. All of them went the same way as today's attempt, sometimes even worse. I was starting to feel lost, and incredibly frustrated.

Elijah had convinced me to move to New Orleans with the rest of the family not long after Kol's death, with a little help from Rebekah, but the city was starting to feel suffocating. There were reminders of Kol everywhere that I looked, and I was starting to think the best thing for me would be to move on entirely. Go somewhere else and try to forget about all the wonderful, incredible things Kol Mikaelson had brought into my life.

The more I wandered through the streets of the French Quarter, the more convinced I became that that was my best path forward. I needed to leave, and I couldn't wait another day to do it.

I turned and started walking back to the Mikaelson compound, picking up the pace now that I had a goal in mind. I knew the family probably wouldn't like it much, but I couldn't let that stop me. I needed some fresh air, and a new start. It was the only way I'd ever have a shot at moving past losing Kol.

I got to the compound and started heading for the stairs, but I was stopped by a voice calling from the middle of the foyer.

"Y/N?" Elijah. I should've known he wouldn't let me just get out of here without a hitch. "What are you doing?"

I sighed, then turned to face him. "I'm here to pack, Elijah. I love you and your family, and I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me, but I can't stay here any longer. I'm never gonna be able to move on from Kol if I-"

"Move on? That hurts, darling."

I whirled around to the other side of the foyer at the sound of an incredibly familiar voice. I hadn't heard it in over a year, but I still recognized it like I'd heard it yesterday. I came face to face with Kol Mikaelson, grinning the same confident, arrogant grin I'd fallen in love with. I stayed frozen in place, not quite able to believe what I was seeing was real. I turned back to Elijah, hoping he could confirm this wasn't some crazy dream.

Elijah was smiling at me, one of the few smiles I'd ever seen on his usually serious face. He gave me a slight nod, and that was all I needed for the realization to break over me like a wave. Kol was real. He was here. I had no idea how, but he'd come back to me.

I whirled to face Kol again and sprinted for him, not even bothering to speak before I flung myself into his arms. If he weren't an immortal vampire with super strength, I felt confident we both would've gone tumbling to the ground.

"Whoa, calm down darling," said Kol, the joy evident in his voice. "I've only just come back from the dead. I can't take these full-force attacks yet."

I didn't respond. I just hugged him tighter, burying my head in his chest and trying to appreciate the fact he was alive. It still didn't seem real, but the longer I held onto him the more sure I became. Tears started flowing, and I didn't even bother trying to stop them. I was just so happy to have Kol back.

"I'll give you two some space to catch up," I heard Elijah say. I could hear the smile in his voice, but I didn't move to give him so much as the time of day as I heard him walk away. I just stayed where I was, clutching Kol like my life depended on it.

"It's alright, Y/N," he said softly, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "I'm here, and I'm never going to leave you again. I promise."

I picked my head up for the first time, meeting Kol's eyes and feeling an instant rush of emotions all over again.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," I managed. Kol just smiled and leaned down, pulling me into a deep kiss. I finally felt like I could breathe again as our lips met. It had been way too long, with too many bad substitutes, since I'd been able to kiss the love of my life.

"I missed this," Kol muttered, eyes closed even as he briefly broke the kiss.

"Me too. So, so much."

I pulled him back towards me, running my hands through his hair as we kissed. Everything felt right again, finally, with Kol's arms wrapped tightly around me and mine around him. I'd lost him once, but now that I had him back, I didn't plan on ever letting go again.

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inkweaver22-blr · 3 years

Text

Here’s chapter ten! I do believe this is the first chapter with absolutely no dialogue! I hope you enjoy it regardless!

AO3 Link

Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Ten: Soft Shadows

Redemption is a hard process. Yet the cycles seem to make it easy for one particular demon.

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Redemption was a tricky thing. It required so many different events to happen in a certain order that it rarely occurred.

The first step was to commit some form of wrongdoing.

This was unfortunately the easiest part to do and most people never moved on to the next.

The second step was to realize and acknowledge your actions as wrong or harmful.

Many had justified their own actions over the course of existence and never saw themselves as doing wrong. Worse, many knew their behavior to be cruel and simply did not care or relished the feelings of power it gave them.

The final step was perhaps the most difficult to achieve.

One had to feel genuine remorse for their actions and wish to change.

Very few actually made it this far in the process as it usually required a catalyst of some sort. A personal revelation after going too far or someone laying your actions out clinically so you couldn’t justify them. Even a single act of unconditional kindness and trust could make someone wish to change.

Then came the truly hard part: actively changing your actions.

The path to redemption was not a short one. It took a lifetime of pursuit and dedicated work to not slip into the temptation of reverting back to who you were before.

Closing yourself off and pretending you didn’t care was easy, after all. What was difficult was being honest with yourself and allowing yourself to feel.

It helped if you had people around you to offer support and love. If it was from the same people who you had harmed originally, all the better.

But earning forgiveness wasn’t the goal of redemption. Some would refuse to give it, and you would have to live with that as it was their right to do so. It may hurt, but you had hurt them first and have no right to demand it even if you had changed.

Being redeemed wasn’t for the benefit of one’s victims. The hope was that you could grow into being a better person. It was for your own personal peace of mind. Whether others choose to accept that you’ve changed was not up to you, but you must continue onward regardless if you were to ever live with yourself.

Tang was intimately familiar with this process. The amount of cycles where he had been some sort of villain was not small.

The first three steps came easy to him. Feeling remorse for his wrongdoings and wishing to change were simple for one stuck jumping through time.

He could even spot a suitable catalyst for his potential ‘redemption’ fairly quickly. MK’s kindness and belief of the good in most people had certainly been useful on many occasions.

Having the whole process down to a science himself, Tang was even able to pull others into changing their ways sometimes. The Demon Bull family were commonly caught in his actions whenever he was a part of it.

(Having Red Son as a younger sibling had been interesting.)

What was bemusing to the scholar was that throughout the cycles there was one person who would constantly be redeemed, even without his meddling.

The Six Eared Macaque was an interesting puzzle.

He seemed to fit into the group that knew their actions were harmful, but did not care. Yet time and time again, he would become one of their allies.

Tang hadn’t known much about the demon early on in the cycles, but the knowledge about him came inevitably.

Macaque had been a “beloved friend” of Sun Wukong in the past. At some point, they had a falling out, Macaque seeing it as being left behind by Wukong.

The scholar had actually experienced part of that tension back in that cycle with the time traveling cactus.

So it seemed feelings of betrayal, jealousy, and abandonment were Macaque’s main motivations.

That last one was eerily similar to MK’s insecurities.

Macaque was very much like both Wukong and MK when Tang stopped to think about it. All three had repressed emotional trauma and coped with them in wildly unhealthy ways. Usually by pretending they weren’t there.

Macaque channeled those repressed emotions into schemes of revenge. He used lies and illusions to get what he wanted. He was condescending and sarcastic to his enemies, seemingly cruel and uncaring.

And it was all a facade.

At least, most of the time. There were a few cycles where Macaque was genuinely a despicable person who showed no remorse.

As much as he tried to hide it, Macaque was actually a very emotional being. It was quite easy for him to get attached to one or more of their group and slowly his cruel streak would fade.

Macaque’s catalyst for change was usually a person. It differed from cycle to cycle, but someone would show him some kindness or trust and before Tang knew it they would have another sarcastic immortal monkey as a part of the team.

MK was obviously the most common person to get the demon to change. Macaque was not lying when he called him a good kid. Having four father figures in those cycles seemed to be good for MK.

Wukong, while usually not the initial catalyst, tended to play a big part in Macaque’s redemption. Being old friends, they knew each other extremely well. While that tended to lead to a lot of arguments, it also led to them picking up where they had left off their previous relationship.

It didn’t really bother Tang that said relationships were often romantic in nature. Watching the two monkeys cuddle when they thought no one was looking was just too cute.

Mei was an interesting choice for Macaque to become attached to. He often ended up becoming her mentor, teaching her how to properly wield the Dragon Blade. Both of their sarcastic natures worked surprisingly well together.

The biggest surprise had been Pigsy.

That cycle, Macaque was basically under house arrest as ordered by Heaven. Pigsy, not wanting the manipulative demon to be anywhere near MK, forced him to stay at their apartment. It was some time later when Tang had woken late in the night to some loud noises and had left his room to complain.

Only to find Macaque pressing a kiss to Pigsy’s cheek before fleeing his room, pursued by a flustered and angry pig demon soon after.

It was strange, but Pigsy’s gruff and silent compassion meshed really well with Macaque’s easy going and nonchalant attitude. The scholar found their affection towards each other endearing.

Tang supposed it was only a matter of time before he himself acted as Macaque’s catalyst.

The cycle had started early, about a year before the original events. While working at the library, Tang had been approached by what he immediately recognized as Macaque in his human disguise. He had requested help on learning more about The Journey to the West for a school assignment. Tang, deciding to play along, offered himself up as an expert on the story and they began meeting weekly to go over it.

Macaque truly did not know the full events of the Journey in this cycle and seemed upset at several points, such as learning about the fillet used to inflict pain on Wukong. Over time, the pair began to meet up more often and discuss things other than the famous book.

He really should have expected falling in love.

Macaque was still sarcastic as ever, but never malicious. He made jokes and comparisons that had Tang’s side aching from how hard he laughed. He was quick to pick up Tang’s quirks and preferences, surprising him with his favorite foods or a nice new set of bookmarks.

He was still Macaque, but this softer side of him made Tang’s chest flutter.

As he lay in bed with his partner, (who had still yet to reveal himself to Tang, but he was patient), Tang couldn’t help but feel a new place in his heart open up for the shadow demon. He had already been considering adding Macaque into his family due to the many times he had joined them, and this just solidified that decision.

Oh Tang knew the cycles where he never changed would be painful. Watching as someone he loved went down a path of self destruction wasn’t easy. But he held onto the knowledge that there would always be the cycles where Macaque did become a part of their family.

As long as the possibility existed, there was hope that the same could happen in his own timeline.

If he ever got back that is.

Tang shoved that increasingly reoccurring thought away and closed his eyes, letting the soothing sounds of Macaque’s breathing lull him to sleep.

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A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES!

Macaque is the fandom’s darling bad boy, so of course I had to have a chapter discussing his many, MANY redemption’s over the many fics and AU’s.

In particular, (Teach Me to Be) Tougher Than Leather, Softer Than Silk by *checks notes* HOLY SHIT! I had no idea this was by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off until just now! *ahem* Anyway it is an AMAZING fic with a practically never used pair and I highly recommend it.

Tang seems to have a type doesn’t he? Demons that seem emotionally distant, but are big softies at heart. It’s probably the purring that gets him. ;P Also does Tang/Macaque have a ship name? If not I'm dubbing it InkyPages.

Don’t worry Tang! I’m sure those intrusive thoughts will go away all on their own.

Important notice! I’m probably going to be putting this fic on the back burner for a bit because I really want to write about the cycle mentioned here. Not as part of Scattered Cicadas, but as its own thing. So keep an eye out for that!

Until next time!

#Ink Writes #Monkie Kid #Scattered Cicadas #Tang #Tang Monkie Kid #Macaque #Six Eared Macaque #ninja-knox-ur-sox-off #(Teach Me to Be) Tougher Than Leather Softer Than Silk #MK #Mei #Pigsy #Sun Wukong #squidinknoodleshipping #Tang/Macaque #what IS their ship name anyway?#InkyPages #InkyPagesShipping #LEGO Monkie Kid

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radiantmists · 3 years

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pjo + rqg?

(send me two+ fandoms and I’ll give you some thoughts about a crossover!)

Okay, juicy! I ended up spending way longer on this than 10 minutes but I had fun...

The obvious point of meeting is the greek gods being real in both settings, but the challenge with using that approach is that the gods in PJO function as actual characters, albeit powerful ones, whereas in RQG they're very removed forces of nature. They don't have specific interests for which they give quests; they have a sort of general value set and as long as you live by that, you have their favor. And compare the glimpse of Hades we get in RQG Rome with the portrayal of him in PJO-- very different, yeah?

(at this point i got distracted by something and when i came back i didn’t remember where the above was going, so i’m just gonna leave it there to contemplate)

But! I’m now thinking about the rqg cast as demigods, and specifically the fact that Zolf is like, older, which is established in PJO as an unusual thing for demigods and especially kids of the big three. And like, his brother died in a mining accident, so maybe that was Hades or some other god trying to kill him and getting Feryn instead. And so Zolf goes to sea where he’s not constantly harassed by Hades like he would be in a mine, and miraculously survives a shipwreck (or two?), probably thanks to his powers, and maybe one of those wrecks is partially caused by a monster that’s attracted to his demigod-ness so he’s got some more self-blame attached to that, but he’s also got this weird relationship with Poseidon where he doesn’t want to be ungrateful for his own life being saved and his powers, but he also resents him for all the suffering that’s happened around him because of his heritage, and that Poseidon hadn’t shielded his family and friends at all.

So he comes on shore after his last shipwreck, having lost the leg to whatever monster there is, and he decides that now that he’s got no one he’s really attached to, he’s going to just fight some monsters. And one day he comes upon some girl getting attacked, and wades in.

Sasha in this scenario would be a child of Hermes, which I especially like because iirc children of Hermes get basically no powers, they just tend to be sneaky and have the base demigod build. She never knew her mortal parent, and instead got picked up by Barrett, who’s most likely a mortal who can see through the Mist and keeps some monsters on the payroll as well as some demigods to keep them in line. he doesn’t tell her a lot about the grander system, just makes use of her abilities. At some point she’d encountered Eldarion, who’s some kind of minor immortal, maybe a dryad or something, who plays the role of Chiron but... worse.

Sasha gets away, but out of Eldarion’s protection the monsters who work for Barrett track her down, and this is when she meets Zolf. She’s a bit leery of him at first because the other fully-adult demigods she’s met have all worked for Barret and made questionable compromises of morality in order to stay alive, but she’s starting to realize that she genuinely can’t make it on her own, so she agrees to travel with him when he asks. For his part, Zolf is like gdi I can’t believe I’m getting attached to someone again, this always ends badly, but he can hardly leave her to fend for herself either, right?

Within a fairly short window of meeting each other, maybe the same encounter actually, they come across Hamid, who has no idea about any of this myth stuff. Neither of them can figure out who his godly parent is bc he manifests some accidental fire powers, but he really doesn’t seem like any child of Hephaestus they’ve met. Zolf also really can’t leave this one to fend for himself because he has no freaking clue what’s going on and is horrified by killing monsters. He’s not sure how Hamid survived this long by himself.

So they go off together and eventually encounter Wilde, who’s mortal but the Oracle of Apollo. The idea of prophecies and fate has always vaguely infuriated Zolf, plus Wilde is still Wilde, so they don’t get off on a good note, but you also can’t ignore prophecies, so when he says he’s been guided to them and then goes all funny and vomits a poem that, when recited back to him, he scoffs at the quality of, they don’t much have a choice.

The prophecy probably involves them foiling some plot by a child of Hades, which is maybe why Hades has been so aggressive toward Zolf in the past; along the way they discover that Hamid is actually the child of a monster, specifically a dragon, which iirc is a thing in actual greek myth even if i can’t remember it coming up in PJO. (this is how he’s survived so long; monsters aren’t drawn to him bc he’s not a demigod).

hamid, i think, figures this out a bit before the rest of the group, and is very freaked out by how his friends will react to it so he keeps it secret. the secret gets blown wide open soon after they meet grizzop, who joined the hunters of artemis bc she’s cool and because immortality and is now off away from the others, tracking some monster involved in the main plot. i think when they reconvene with the hunters, one of them recognizes what hamid is, and then there’s a whole drama where the others have to deal with the revelation while also preventing him from being killed.

wilde manages to be pretty useful despite being mortal and they all get attached to their squishy poet friend, especially when the fact that he never quite asked to be an Oracle and the way it messes with him becomes clear to them.

azu is a child of aphrodite and probably comes from a place where there is a more camp half-blood claiming, group training structure, but she’s definitely the black sheep of the aphrodite group because while love is important to her, she’s really interested in fighting. when whatever oracle they have tells them an aphrodite person has to go on a quest she’s pretty universally nominated, not that she has a problem with that.

cel is a sorceror person along the lines of medea or circe but less evil; i’m not sure where exactly they fit into the plot though. ed is also definitely a child of Apollo in this, and the things with dyslexia and adhd from PJO canon definitely come into play in his backstory as the black sheep of his own family.

zolf and, to a lesser extent, sasha, tend to come into conflict with grizzop and azu who buy into the whole ‘greatness of gods’ and ‘fate’ stuff a lot more. azu starts to get somewhat disillusioned of all this as the quest goes on and she sees what being a hero actually means. zolf gets into a lot of shouting matches with poseidon, though i think in this universe it would be reparable bc poseidon is a bit more like PJO poseidon who isn’t perfect but is less of a remote dickhead.

i don’t exactly know how things resolve immediately, but an epilogue would definitely be sasha establishing a sort of school/home/camp for demigods that doesn’t push them into roles the way the ones azu and she knew tended to do, and focuses more on giving them a safe place and enough fighting skill to survive, as well as a community who understand, the way zolf helped her.

#rqg #im not gonna tag this pjo because i ended up not using the characters from it much #crossover ask game

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 4 years

Text

Let It In

Gif for the celebration, my thought process is maybe instead of Niklaus being in Elijah arms it’s the reader. Maybe she switched her humanity off so Lijahs forcing her to turn it back on. I hope that all makes sense

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Mentions of character death.

Author’s Note: Here’s some angst for you. I’m still working on my 1500 gif drabbles. But even then it seems I can’t really keep anything under 1k XD This was submitted by the lovely @xxqueenofgamesxx

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

“Stop trying to save me!” You yelled out as you turned to face Elijah. “I’m not some broken toy you can just glue together with your words.”

For the last year, Elijah had been trying so desperately to get you to turn your humanity back on. Any time he’d come even a fraction close to getting you to flip the switch back, you’d take off not wanting to deal with it. A trail of bodies left in your wake as you left.

This time he had you cornered, no doubt with the help of his sister. The barrier spell surrounding both of you in this small space was one of her specialties. And at that moment, you hated Freya even more than you had since you flipped your switch.

“I have never thought of you as some toy, Y/N.” Elijah said keeping his voice calm as he took a step towards you. “You are my wife and I made a vow to not only love you but help you and keep you safe. That includes getting you your humanity back.”

A dark chuckle passed your lips as you shook your head. “I have been safe. No danger has come to me in years. If I remember correctly, I asked you to join me on this side of things, but you turned me down.”

You hadn’t missed the fact that he had been closing you in even more. You hated that he was and that you couldn’t get away from him. Elijah knew why you had asked him to switch off his humanity. He was the only one that could get you to flip it back. Especially since he was the only one who shared the pain you shut out.

“You had your reasons for shutting it off, Y/N.” He said shaking his head. “It was a hard time for both of us. But you were the one that was hurt by it the most and I didn’t do anything to help you or to stop you from making that decision and I regret it.”

You huffed. “I’d say since then, I’ve been doing just fine. Better even.” You said as a smirk pulled at your lips.

“We both know that isn’t true.” He said as he took one final step towards you, having you stuck in the corner of the room with the wall against your back. The space between you minimal as you looked up at him. “Once you let your humanity back in, Arick’s death would consume you-”

“Shut up, Elijah.” You said cutting him off as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Neither of us has spoken his name since that night and I’d prefer it that way. Might as well let that memory go with all the hurt, right?”

At your words, it was Elijah’s turn to narrow his eyes at you. “Arick was our son, Y/N. You cannot just erase him. Yes, his death was tragic and I have done everything in my power to ensure those that killed him were killed by my own hands. But you will not be the one to make it seem like he does not exist.”

Elijah had tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke to you. But he couldn’t stop the anger that came out of his words towards the end. You hadn’t missed it either. And that part of you that was hanging on to that off switch couldn’t help itself.

You kept yourself calm as you leaned up and brought your lips right next to his year. A devilish smirk pulled at your lips. “It’s your fault he’s dead in the first place. If only you cared less for your brother, our son would still be alive.”

The moment Elijah pushed you back, you couldn’t help but chuckle. You saw the hurt in his eyes and it didn’t bother you one bit. His eyes searched yours the moment the chuckle subsided. All he could see within them was emptiness. The flicker of hurt he saw moments before at the mention of your son was gone. But that didn’t stop him from trying again.

“What would he say if he saw you as you are now?” He asked.

Between the three of you, you always assured each other that facing the pain was a lot better than flipping the humanity switch. Especially for immortals such as yourselves. Unfortunately, Arick wasn’t an original vampire.

While born before both of you had transitioned, it wasn’t until Arick was older that you turned him. His first several years of life had been hard for both you and Elijah when it came to your bloodlust with turning. But you somehow managed to control yourselves a lot better than his siblings had.

Arick hoped that he nor his parents would become bloodthirsty as his aunts and uncles. It was a promise that the three of you had made after you turned him. And if Arick had seen you now, he’d be disappointed.

You rolled your eyes as you pushed him back, attempting to get some room between the two of you before walking around him. His arms came around you and his hold tightened as you tried to fight him off. The strength between the two of you making it difficult for either of you to win against the other.

“You loved him, Y/N.” Elijah said as you struggled against his hold trying to block out what he had been saying. “Yes, it was my fault you two were in that position in the first place. You shouldn’t have watched our son die.”

A memory that you had longed to forget had made its way into your mind. The way you had watched as your son struggled to get himself free from his captors. But the vervain that had been running through his system had made him weak, just as the very thing had done to you. But watching as the enemy had staked him right in front of you, had broken you in ways that you hadn’t believed you could ever be.

“Let go of me, Elijah.” You said through clenched teeth as you fought against him.

His hold had tightened, and part of him believed because it had been because you were breaking. “I will not let go.” He said as keeping his own emotions in check. Bringing up his son’s death wasn’t the easiest thing. And while he would be willing to express those feelings, this was all about you. “I will never let go.” He promised.

You shook your head trying to get the thoughts in your head out. But no matter how much you fought, Elijah’s hold on you tightened. And at some point, he moved his hand on top of your arm, just enough to allow a connection between minds.

Memories flood your mind. The memories of Elijah seeing you with their son. The way you cared for and protected him. Everything up until he turned he brought it to you. And the last thing he showed you was how broken you looked when he found you holding your son’s body. There was hurt and hatred in your eyes as you looked up at him. Through the memories, the pain being relived though it.

A cry of pain left your lips the moment Elijah stopped. You had stopped fighting against him and you slumped against him. He never once removed his arms from around you, wanting to comfort you as you let in every emotion that you refused to acknowledge.

“I’ve got you.” He promised as he held you, wanting you to know he wasn’t going to leave your side any time soon. This was the first step in getting you back and he was going to make sure that you wouldn’t find yourself wanting to go back to the numbness you had sought out.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555 @hellotvshowtrash

Stag Tag: @elejah-wonderland @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @marvel-at-stucky

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @alien-sida @mikaelson-emma

#xxwritemeastoryxx's 1500 follower celebration #gif submission #Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #Reader insert #TVD #TO #The Originals #The Vampire Diaries #Elijah Mikaelson drabble #Elijah Mikaelson one shot #Elijah Mikaelson angst #Elijah Mikaelson imagines #Elijah Mikaelson fics #Elijah Mikaelson fanfics #Elijah Mikaelson gif #submission

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enby-chaos · 3 years

Text

Alrighty folks, if you don’t know me, I’m Chaos. You may have seen me lurking in the DSMP fandom or my art the rare times I’ve posted it, but I’ve decided I want to be more active! I want to post more! And I want to ramble about the AUs I have that I’m scared to talk about unprompted.

So buckle up! I got c!Eret brain rot, I got c!Wilbur brain rot, and I’ve been hyperfixated on the potential of their friendship for nearly three months to the point I created multiple AUs with the help of my dear friend @teenageapocalypsesurvivior specifically to focus and accidentally project on it! i’ve been starved of content too long wilbur soot :gun: /lh

Below I have a list of all the AUs I’m going to start accepting asks about, since I’m gonna start trying to write actual fics for soon-ish. You can also use the emoji’s to reference them if you don’t want to use the full title. (so for example you could use “ 🔪 au” instead of “villain au” and I’ll know what you’re talking about)

Immortal AU - ☘️

Trapped with Vines AU - 🥀

Pirate AU - ⛵️

Villain AU - 🔪

Two Lives Eret AU - 💔

Under the cut I’m gonna elaborate on each one a bit more so y’all have a basic idea of each AU, while I attempt to keep myself restricted to a single paragraph so this post isn’t stupidly long (/hj). It’s really hard.

And just to clarify, unless stated this is 100% about the characters.

Immortal AU - tag : chaos’ immortal au ☘️

I’ve already started talking about this AU in the ask box of @netheritenugget (my beloved /p), but various members, if not all, of the SMP are some form of inhuman being. Whether they were born that way, or the universe “gifted” them with the magic to fulfill some kind of legend. Eret is literal Herobrine, Wilbur is a time traveller, Foolish is a God, Phil is immortal, and Technoblade reincarnates, among others.

Don’t go out into the night when the stories spread, the wind is not picky with whom it chooses.

Trapped with Vines AU - tag : chaos’ vines au 🥀

At some ambiguous point after Wilbur is resurrected, he and Eret both get locked inside of the castle with no way out. The castle itself is redesigned so it looks more similar to the haunted mansion from TFTSMP, so it’s just an absolute maze to those who don’t know the layout (or even those who do but never have reason to use every room). Unbeknownst to the both of them, at least at first, the crimson vines are growing in the halls, following them. It’s an extended “lock them in an elevator so they talk to each other” AU, let’s be honest.

Pirate AU - tag : chaos’ pirate au ⛵️

Wilbur is a pirate captain, Eret is his first mate. Phil was a pirate captain who retired to raise his children, who ended up becoming pirates anyway (good job), Tommy ran away to join Wilbur and Techno betrayed the Navy (he only joined to improve his skills anyway). The rest of L’Manberg plus El Rapids are their crew. They have a cat named Pogchamp. Also Wilbur is the son of a sea goddess and Eret is a descendant of the god of the dead, wait what?

Villain AU - tag : chaos’ villain au 🔪

After Doomsday, after the failed resurrection, Eret takes a Totem of Undying and revives Wilbur alone by sacrificing one of his lives. Wilbur comes back pissed off at the world and pissed off at Eret for reviving him. The resurrection leaves Wilbur injured though (reversing death can only do so much), so he doesn’t appreciate having to stay in a hideout with Eret for a few days to heal. The alliance to commit some “light” chaos comes before they become friends again. Yeah, and they murder people.

Two Lives Eret AU - tag : chaos’ two lives au 💔

As President of L’Manberg, especially in the early days, Wilbur has to attend quite a few meetings with the King of the SMP for negotiations. Except, to Wilbur’s confusion and later anger, Dream is the one to come to these meetings, insisting it’s on Eret’s behalf. When Wilbur goes to confront Eret over it, for thinking they’re too good to show up, Eret is confused; they never knew these meetings existed. He temporarily puts aside his grudge against Eret to help the other confront Dream, which succeeds, but quickly grows concerned when their actual first meeting reveals that Eret has lost a life. It’s also a Eret in Pogtopia AU.

would y’all believe me if I said there were like two more AUs on this list originally but I had to omit them because they were either 1. wayy too big or 2. i didn’t want to overwhelm y’all with so many lol

#chaos' aus 🖋️#eret #eretblr #wilbur soot #dream smp #dream smp au #mcyt #chaos’ immortal au ☘️#chaos’ vines au 🥀#chaos’ pirate au ⛵️#chaos’ villain au 🔪#chaos’ two lives au 💔#dsmp

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Late Night City Drive

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 | Ship: Delamain/fem!V&Johnny (Warning: Slight body horror in the first two paragraphs you can skip)

The sounds of bullets piercing into concrete and breaking glass followed her as she slid down the slope. The rough material reamed her skin and clothes, but the impending danger behind her was worse than the pain. And then came the fall. The endless fall with air rushing past her as the ground came closer and closer at terrifying speeds. Every second she would collide with the ground and feel the excruciating pain of broken bones and cracked skin. But the moment never came, there was just the fear of it coming for her any second now and the endless time spent on imagining how her body would warp and crack once it came. As time had stretched on enough, she finally collided, but not in a way she had thought to. She had fallen onto a heap of garbage bags filled to the brim with stinking waste. The impact of her fall made her sag into the mass, the foul smell causing her to gag and fight, but the mass was overwhelming and struggling only made it worse.

Suddenly there were hands on her. She looked behind herself and startled as she found herself face to face with her friends. Her dead friends. Jackie looked at her from glassy eyes, mouth distorted with blood still dripping from his lips. His hands were cold, so cold. They were the icy unmoving hands of the dead trying to grip her and pull her with them like she deserved. Behind him there stood T-Bug, eyes charcoal holes in her skull and the back of her head missing. She gripped V too, pulling her forwards and throwing her into a mass of bodies, one reeking worse than the next and all of them holding onto her with their cold dead hands. V struggled against it with all her strength, but stayed afloat only for a few moments. It was enough time to look back at Jackie and T-Bug, both of them smiling at her. ‘You killed us, V. Now join us.’ And then she was pulled under.

She jolted up with a gasp, the feeling of suffocating in a million dead bodies overwhelming her as she forced air in and out. With shaking hands, she hugged her torso, trying to shake off the feeling of countless fingers on her. Her whole body was aching at the tension and she was sure to throw up when her vision glossed over, streaks of turquoise code distorting her surroundings and gifting her with stinging headache on top of the pain that already shook her. V pressed her eyes close and swallowed to keep the bile down, knowing she just had to sit this one out. The malfunction of the relic would soon subside, and she would be able to live in her own body again.

‘Urgh, Fuck.’ She rubbed at her face, fingers caught in the familiar rim of her chrome. ‘V.’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’, the mercenary shouted, lifting up her hand signalling the ghost, the virus, the fucking splinter that would kill her in the long run, to better follow her order this time. Not that she could do much should Johnny choose to appear again. But at least she still had control over her body and could force him to disappear. ‘Just shut up, you already did enough’, she added silent this time, stood up and grabbed her gun and some clothes to throw over. She didn’t bother washing or checking the time, she knew it was the middle of the night anyways and that there was no way she would be able to fall asleep any time soon. She knew exactly what she needed, and she needed it now.

The elevator ride down to street level couldn’t be fast enough for her, already calling her car and slipping past the masses of people still on the street despite the hour to hop in. She relaxed only as she slammed the door shut and sunk into the comfortable driver’s seat. ‘Where can I bring you today?’ V just sunk deeper, staring out of the window up into the night sky barred by skyscrapers, roads and glaring neon lights. She closed her eyes almost like in pain and appreciated once again the AI had the patience of… well, of an immortal computer program. ‘Just get me…’ She sighed deeply. ‘Just get me anywhere, Del. Outside the city. Badlands.’ ‘Of course.’

She felt the hum of the engine get louder and the seat press into her back as the car drove off. She watched the city pass her by while Delamain changed the radio to more silent, softer tunes than she normally listened to. In nights like these it was easy to forget how brutal Night City could be. If you drove through her streets, no more than an anonymous passenger of uncountable others, it seemed near impossible that underneath that beauty, underneath that architectural artwork and the bright glamourous lights hid an ugly monster half-dead but still hanging on to every piece that kept it alive and clawing at everything that tried to take it out of its misery. Was she any different to this shithole she lived in? She had been dead already and now she was living on borrowed time. She was no better than the tumour infesting this city. ‘Your little mercenary friends aren’t the problem here.’ V furrowed her brows in anger. ‘Did I fucking ask you for your opinion?’ ‘Hey, no need to get bitchy. Just saying the corporations are killing this city, the criminal basis is just a by-product of an uncaring world.’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’, V shouted furiously. ‘I just want my peace for once! Isn’t it enough you will kill me in the end? Just show a bit of patience and wait until I’m dead!’

‘I didn’t say anything.’ V sighed and concentrated on the world passing by. They were on their way out already, the highway leading to the border. ‘I know, Del’, she sighed quietly. ‘Then who were you talking to?’ ‘No one. Sorry.’ For a moment it was silent except for the rumble of the wheels and the hum of the engine as they passed the stone front that looked almost like a barrier separating Night City from nomad territory. ‘May I ask what brings you out into the Badlands in the middle of the night?’ V rubbed her forehead and looked outside the side window. ‘I had a nightmare’, she whispered then. She noticed the digital particles from Johnny’s presence and already braced for another unnecessary, cocky comment. But instead he just sat there next to her.

‘Apparently dying isn’t something the brain can easily process’, she added, maybe out of spite to jab at the construct that was killing her. ‘I’m afraid I can’t deliver any personal experience to that’, Delamain commented. ‘But if desired I can get in contact with several therapeutic-‘ ‘No’, V interrupted. ‘No, that won’t be necessary. I don’t have time for that. Just… Just let me drive for a while.’ ‘As you wish. I will disable automatic driving.’

V sat up and took over wheel and pedals. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and accelerating just a bit more. For a quiet while it was just her and the road. Then Delamain spoke up once again: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, but how is this helping you?’ ‘It’s…’ V risked a look over to Johnny’s projection, who shrugged and looked out of the window. ‘Some old habits die hard’, she explained finally. ‘I’m a nomad after all. Whenever the family argued or I simply had enough, I would took my car for a ride. Some days there is no better friend to have than your car and the road beneath you. Makes you feel free. Makes you feel like you’re just one of many, coming from somewhere and driving somewhere else. No one cares where that might be, you are just out there on the road, your car a little part of home.’

‘That sounds fucking lonely if you ask me.’ ‘That sounds… interesting’, Delamain said and seemed to mean it. ‘I don’t know if I understand but I will keep it in mind.’ ‘Fucking people pleaser.’ V sighed and switched stations to Morro Rock. The shock of the nightmare had subsided and now she needed distraction, not calmness. ‘It’s better than drowning your problems in alcohol.’ ‘Always worked for me’, Johnny shrugged, but smiled faintly as the radio began playing the old Samurai songs. ‘Shut up’, V replied. ‘Maybe we can do that later.’

She turned from a dusty side road to a main highway that would eventually lead her back to Pacifica and decided to test out just what Delamain hid under that hood. Seeing the needle of the speedo climb higher and higher and feeling the satisfying pressure in her back, she turned up the volume and watched the completely empty street speed towards her. The streetlights flickered past one after the next while the engine roared and the car climbed up the small slope of a hill.

She enjoyed the ride as long as it lasted and slowed down once they reached streets with more traffic. Soon they would reach Pacifica and V felt exhaustion crawling up at her once again. ‘Should I take over again?’, Delamain asked and V nodded, letting go of the wheel. ‘Are you feeling better?’ ‘Yes, I do. Thank you, Del.’ ‘I didn’t do much, but I’ll take the praise, nonetheless. Should I drive you back to your apartment?’ ‘Yeah. Guess I’ll try to get some more sleep.’ She leaned back in her seat and yawned heartily. ‘Hopefully without nightmares, this time.’

‘You are not at fault for their death’, Johnny interrupted the peace and V felt far too tired to start another fight. ‘Yeah, maybe not’, she sighed. ‘But it doesn’t change the fact that they are dead and I’m alone.’ She had a hard time keeping her eyes open with the monotone sound of the engine and the gentle sway from the suspension. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway’, she mumbled, already half asleep. ‘Gonna be dead in a few months no matter what.’ She turned a bit to the side to lay more comfortably against the curve of the chair, drifting off to sleep already. It would keep her wondering later if she had just imagined the words Johnny spoke in a surprisingly concerned tone for the asshole.

‘Not if I can help it.’

#Cyberpunk 2077 #Cyberpunk #Delamain/V #V/Delamain #fem V #female V #V #Delamain #Johnny silverhand #petition to call the ship TaxV #I needed V/Delamain content and I couldn't find any so I wrote something #Now you know one of my three coping mechanisms do with that info what you want #Love this game

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readerinsertfanfiction · 3 years

Note

Nemo, I would like to request a Faun!Keiji from you. What you want to write with it I will leave up to you as long as it's not angsty ^^ I hope this is gonna be fun. Love ya and thanks *heart emoji*

Oooh, Faun!Keiji, that actually suits him so stupidly well. Or what I have come to know about this dude.

No angst for Mama! 💖💖💖

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Keiji Maeda

Prompt: Fantasy AU!

A/N: I tried a new style here, a mixture of an unreliable narrator in the first pov and what I tried before with the God!Shingen story. Enjoy!

Where there are old things there are stories to tell, the imagining of the youth of a tree that was struck by lightning and thought to be dead only to grow branches once more, or what of one bearing fruits in strange forms? Even by giving an object a name it is enough to give power to the tales shared and to be immortalised through tell from old to young. This story is no different, what with the belief that once the legends lived amongst us, only to be forgotten.

Let this be a cautionary tale, that not all are what it may seem. I was a mere child when it happened and even then I’m not sure what had happened and if it had been real. After all, the imagination of a child is a wild one and their fantasies endless. This doesn’t change much when one is a writer, for the borders between reality and fantasy seem to blur, just as their sources of inspiration come from the littlest things. Alas, let me continue my story of how I met a certain faun.

A faun, yes. To get to the point. Half man, half a goat. Mischievous creatures, truly, but captivating and charming despite the hairy stocky legs on which they stand upon. I’m quite undecided whether it is the music following them, or them following the music that makes them so amicable to the crowd, but that’s all I seem to remember clearly. The music that they played and they joined and danced to. And that is another thing about an artisan, for musicians are the same as authors, just as artists tend to be; alive in their heads and their dreams without a distinction of their own reality or where it starts and blurs.

It was this music that the young me heard one sunny day in which I found myself lost in the forest desperate to look for some twigs to burn in the fire. The adults often told us not to wander off too deeply into the treacherous dense tree mass, but when the days are pleasant and the berries numerous and the village dull, one seems to have an affinity for finding trouble. Added to it was the pleasant tune so cheerfully played that it could not be anything else but a little party and one quickly forgets caution in exchange for excitement.

Now quickly, just to add, I was not alone, certainly not. We children are always braver in a group, just like adults tend to be at their worst together. Just like you dear spectator, we are not much different despite our ages apart after all. But if you ask any of the cowards I called friends then today they would deny it. They will speak of a wandering vagabond who happened to play us a pretty tune instead, but they have not seen the hooves as I have. Yes, hooves in place of feet, how curious, isn’t?

So the day was sunny, with the berries sprouting freshly on the bushes we passed as we were gathering firewood in the forest and there he sat. A handsome lad near that big old tree we have today, but back then it was still a young sapling amongst many. Panflute in hands and a pretty tune to follow out of it. Captivating, trance-like for we couldn’t help but feel ourselves pulled by the sound and gather around the lad and it was only when we gathered around him that he stopped playing, as if he wanted us to be around.

Now, children, please remember that if a stranger in the forest ever asks you a question you’re best off not answering it with the truth. These mischievous creatures have a way around words and turning it against you. Don’t make promises and never give your name, or ask them for a favour or even express gratitude, for a debt to one of these creatures is a debt to the forest.

“What are you doing?” I asked, fairly innocent still and suspecting nothing yet.

“Growing the tree,” the faun had answered, now still a man in our eyes, for they have a way of hiding their legs, or at least to distract us from them. His answer most certainly did, for who had heard of growing a tree through song? Isn’t it always through the sun and water? We asked him that as well, but he refused to answer, perhaps because he knew that it involved a secret of nature and one does not share those secrets openly with strangers. Not when they use the trees to burn their fires and build their houses with. Not when whole forests disappear just like this disappeared leaving only this special tree underneath which I tell you the story.

Of course we were quite confused by this stranger. He had strange manners and sang foreign songs, but they captivated us, pulled us in. For little village children for whom the world was no larger than the borders of the village and some trees into the forest we didn’t know better than that to be our world. But the faun he had travelled and through song he would tell us. At first out of free will, giving us a sample of the dozens of stories he had to tell. For one must understand that for all their mischief these creatures are unable to lie. Later on, it came with little favours. Pieces of bread, some paper, new strings for his lute and eventually…

“How do we go on the same adventures as you?” We had asked him this to which the faun only had one answer:

“Follow me.”

And so we did. Or at least, the bravest of us did as some made excuses stating that our parents wouldn’t like that. Others had other reasons. Such as chores undone, or promises made to visit grandparents and the likes. He allowed those to leave, for the faun valued such obligations above anything else.

“If you want to see the world you will have to step out. If you want more you can live like me, just come out and join!”

In hindsight the trick is always obvious. But we didn’t know the rules of the game yet, or how these creatures tricked us into promises we could not get out of. None of us children realised other than that we knew we were bored of our little village and longed for an adventure outside. You can imagine what answer came from that boredom and what consequences there were.

With another song he led us away and on that we went on our greatest adventure. I met the elves, who are even trickier and may steal your name, but our faun protected us well from them. Though he did allow us some elvenbread. For it is said that elvenbread increases the lifespan so greatly you may be mistaken as immortal. It is the secret of their long lives and as children we wished for our days to extend forever. But there was another secret to the bread and the faun made us promise never to break that vow.

And there were also fairies who will hold onto a grudge for longer than a human lifetime if you don’t treat them or their flowers well. Remember, always be kind to flowers even when they’re not blooming, for there is something tending to them, just like the fruits they bear, or the dragonflies we see on the water on a hot summer day. Our faun protected us once more from these creatures, teaching us how to be kind to all what surrounds us and how song could help grow a sapling into a sturdy tree. By the time we were done exploring and had to return home it felt like decades had passed, though our hearts remained the same.

The adults said so as well when they finally managed to wake us up underneath this tree that had moved on from the sapling it started to be. Our appearances were still youthful, as if no day had passed and the faun had disappeared, but our souls had grown richer and more knowledgeable with all these wonders still lingering in our minds like a beautiful dream. And a dream it was indeed, for soon after many of us started to forget, thinking that it was indeed just a dream we happened to share. And the older we got the more we forgot. We forgot how to be kind, we forgot the elvenbread we had shared, we even cut down the trees that gave us shelter in our youths making room for more of us. We had forgotten what it was like to dream and to imagine and to maintain our youth.

The silence that fell after the story was an awkward one, the children staring at the now ancient tree rather uncomfortably before turning their eyes at the storyteller. “So, how old is this tree? And how old does that make you?”

You laugh at the honest question posed, looking up at the tree towering over you as you shrug. “Lost count, I suppose,” was your answer and none could make out if that was a joke, or the truth.

“And what happened to the faun, and the fairies and the elves?” This question was expected and once more you smiled as you looked up at the crown of the tree, lush and green, offering shelter and shade on this hot sunny day.

“Wandering around, growing trees,” you smiled widely at the unsatisfied faces of the children before you pushed yourself up, a deep breath escaping you, the simple move not so simple anymore as you gestured for one of the children to help you up. “I suppose,” you grunted, “he is still looking for some children to share the elvenbread with.”

With another wink you’re finally on your legs, the cane helping you along as a third leg to support yourself as you move on, ignoring the numerous questions the children had for you. If you remained to answer all, you would indeed stay underneath the tree for another eternity.

“A handsome young lad? Really?” a mischievous voice comes for you, and you chuckle at the flamboyant presence nearing into you, offering an arm in support. Red wild hair and a sunny smile beamed at you in a familiar way you had never forgotten, just like promised.

“Why so? I’m only faithfully relaying the account of my youth and what I perceived to be true,” came your answer as you leaned against the extended arm, grateful for the steady support it gave you.

“Ah, and I imagine that there is no bias involved?” Another tease and you pinch the arm you hold, earning a yelp from the man that had come to pick you up and return you to your little hut, the morning soon to be over just as story time had come to an end in the village.

“Most certainly, only a truth for I quite like what I see now as well.” This earned a blush from the man, who for some reason was not as accustomed to the compliments of man even after all these years.

“Will you tell us another story tomorrow?” one of the children piped up, catching up to the two of you with curious eyes and excitement written on their faces. You could only nod, glad for their enthusiasm as you pointed at the tree behind.

“Same place, same time?” you rang the question that had been asked of you all these years before and that satisfied them, little fists bumping into the air as they ran off in a flurry of giggles. Only one remained, a pensive young child that didn’t seem quite satisfied, but perhaps just a little too shy to ask what they wanted.

“Yes?” you encouraged them and the child looks down at the ground, their eyes roaming over the soil as if the answer could be found there.

“What’s the faun’s name?” they finally ask and your smile grows wider as you shake your head.

“That I cannot tell, you will have to ask him yourself.” Your answer was as mysterious as it was suggestive, a twinkle in your eye as you continued your way, leaving the child alone who stared after you and your chaperone in confusion.

Had the child paid attention to the footprints instead they would have noticed that there was only one pair of human feet, the other being hooves instead.

#ikesen keiji #ikemen sengoku keiji #ikemen keiji #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku x reader #ikesen x reader

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melancholydreadfuldream · 4 years

Text

deep end of a dream

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Reader & Ganger!Doctor x reader

Summary: You were in love with the Doctor but unfortunately the Doctor couldn't make up his mind between his feeling for you and for River. When an accident resulting in creation of another Doctor, will that be the answer everyone is hoping for?

Warning: ooc, angst, plot holes as usual, dark!doctor, etc. You have been warned.

More warning: English is not my first language so beware of the headache you will receive upon reading this.

"Y-you are leaving the Tardis? Where are you going?"

He smiled as he show you a vortex manipulator. "Cheap time travel but this will do. I can go anywhere anytime."

"B-but..." You felt unwillingness to part with him.

"Two doctors in one Tardis? That could never work out." The ganger Doctor turned stabilized said. "I can't stay here." He took a step toward you, taking one of your hands in his. "I was hoping you would come with me."

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

"I mean I know I'm not the real Doctor..."

"You are the Doctor." You insisted.

He smiled solemnly. "You told him before that you are leaving him...leaving the Tardis."

You did say that to the original Doctor before he took you and the Ponds to the flesh factory. You are done waiting for him, waiting for a man who could never love you properly.

"Come with me." The ganger Doctor pleaded.

You didn't know what to say.

7777

You have been with the Doctor longer than any other companion. You first met the Doctor in his tenth incarnation while he was with Rose. You soon fell in love with the Doctor but has to endure heartbreak as he only has eyes for Rose. After losing Rose, the Doctor dropped you at home and didn't come back for you for a long while. He said you are better off without him. You pleaded him to let you stay but he cruelly ignored you.

You met the Doctor on board of the valiant courtesy of the Master. The Master somehow found out about your feeling for the Doctor and use it against you and the Doctor. You were there as a hostage and as the Master's plaything. He likes to rub it that the Doctor doesn't love you. He basically outed your pathetic feeling for the Doctor.

It was a very long and painful year. You were forced to watch as the Master torture the Doctor, regressed him into a sort of aged creature and put him in a cage as added humiliation. You met Jack, an immortal and a former companion of the Doctor. He was a hostage as well and his fate is worst than you. The Master likes to be variable in his method of torture. And yet, Jack is brave and still laughed in face of repeated tortures and deaths.

Then you met Martha, the woman who walked the Earth, the storyteller, the one who saved the Doctor and the world. Like you, Martha was in love with the Doctor but the Doctor still hung up on Rose. After time is reset, Martha decided to stop travelling with the Doctor.

The Doctor apologized to you for getting you involved with his mess. You were sure he would turn you away again but instead he asked you to travel again with him and like the besotted fool you are, you agreed. But the two of you never talked about the elephant in the room which is your outed feeling for the Doctor. Both of you pretended that it didn't happen. But it was hard for you, traveling with the Doctor, interacting with him, discovering his many adorable quirk that made your feeling for him strengthen.

Eventually, Donna joined you and the Doctor. She recognized your feeling for the Doctor immediately and she is being supportive of you despite you telling her about your love rival, Rose.

During one of your routine adventure with Doctor and Donna, you met River Song. River seemed to know who you are and acted as if you and her are friends despite you have no idea who she is. You got jealous at how River confidently talked and keep up with the Doctor. You and Donna got uploaded inside CAL. After the Doctor saved everyone, you learned that River is dead and you felt guilty for being jealous of her before. That woman died to save everyone.

Donna often likes to push you and the Doctor together. During a visit at Midnight, Donna pushes you to take a trip with the Doctor instead of spending time at the spa with her. You got under thrall of an unknown creature that possessed another passenger and the Doctor had to save you from it while stopping the rest of the passengers from trying to have you thrown out of the cabin.

He kissed you and took the infection off you, rendering himself under the creature's thrall. You tried to save him too but it was futile. You tried to calm down everyone but it was like all of them has lost their rational mind. When you both finally survived the creature, you could only hugged each other in relief. You cried and accidentally tell him that you love him. But he was too distracted to respond.

Many things happened so fast after that. Earth got stolen and Rose come back. So you and the Doctor never got a chance to talk about it. You don't know whether to feel sad or relief, after all, knowing your feeling is unrequited. It hurts watching the Doctor and Rose reunited. You could see how much they love each other through their interaction.

Then, metacrisis Doctor Donna happened. After saving the universe, the Doctor left Rose and Metacrisis Doctor back on the paralel universe. You and the Doctor had to say goodbye to Donna whose memory got erased. You insisted of staying with the Doctor. You can't bear to let him be alone. Luckily, he didn't fight you about staying.

He was lonely still. You weren't enough for him. You know this. It hurts. You let him use you. He soaked in your love for him.

You stayed with him through his regeneration into the bow-tied man that you will eventually love too. Inside the crashing Tardis, you fell into the swimming pool and got a concussion for it. The newly-regenerated Doctor is very worried for you.

You were wary of the new Doctor but he was very affectionate with you. He fussed over you. He treated your head wound. You eventually accepted that he is still the Doctor you know, just a little bit difference, well, a lot difference.

The Doctor invited Amy to board the Tardis. You and Amy get along alright. She notices immediately about your feeling for the Doctor. You are wondering if you are really bad to keep your feeling a secret if anyone could know immediately.

This version of the Doctor really is too affectionate. He loves hugging or taking your hand in his firmly. Sometimes you could almost believe he is flirting with you. But, of course, the Doctor remained vague regarding your relationship. You might be making a mistake by staying. As you expected, the more you know this new Doctor, the more your feeling for him grow even more, one might say it was like a cancer.

You and the Doctor met River again. Your heart is broken again when you heard the Doctor confirmed Amy's teasing that River is indeed his future wife. But the threat of the weeping angels distracted you enough from letting yourself drown in misery.

River is very nice with you, still saying that you and her are friends. When you two are alone, you decided to ask whether she is really married to the Doctor. She only gave you a really annoyingly vague answer.

You are done. You wanted to leave the Doctor. You will not stay and pined for a married man. But River seemed to figure out your line of thinking and pleaded you to stay. She said the Doctor need you and that someday you will have to save the Doctor. You don't know if she is lying however you have no choice but to stay in case she really is saying the truth.

Afterward you tried to keep your distant with the Doctor. Both the Doctor and Amy noticed. Amy tried to comfort you, knowing your reasoning.

Rory eventually joined inside the Tardis too. It's getting kind of crowded in the Tardis but you didn't mind. You also get along nice with Rory.

While the Doctor and Amy are kind a bit reckless, you and Rory become their voice of reason...somewhat. You would even said you and Rory are probably the sane ones. The Doctor and Amy would jump and greet dangers together while laughing a bit like maniac. They often ganged up against you and Rory, calling you both the boring ones.

7777

"The Doctor is a selfish old man. You will be waiting for a long time for him, poor little (name)." The Dream Lord had mocked you. "And he will let you wait for him instead of letting you go. He is that cruel."

You hated that everyone seemed to know your feeling for the Doctor.

"You are right, little (name), he is like a cancer. You better run before he takes over you completely." He said.

He is reading your mind. How can he be reading your mind like this?

"But I suppose, it was already too late for you, eh?"

When they finally defeated the Dream Lord, you can't help but wonder if the Doctor can read other people's mind after he admitted that the Dream Lord is in fact a darker version of himself.

7777

Tears falling from your cheeks as you watched the somewhat weary Doctor sitting inside Pandorica, readying himself to fly toward the exploding Tardis.

River had explained that when he did that, he will be erased from time. You can't accept that but it is not like your opinion matters to him.

The Doctor looked a bit sad when you said that to him. "You always matters to me and I do listen to you but in this case, you know it is the only way."

You wiped your tears furiously. "River said you can't come back...that you will be trapped on the wrong side... We would have never met at all." You whispered with a crack in your voice as more tears falling from your cheeks.

He smiled as he put a hand over your cheek. "Oh, my dearest (name)...I'm sorry...It seemed that I always ended up hurting you..."

You blinked at him in confusion before you realized he was talking about your feeling for him. You tried to smile. "It's alright, Doctor, I know you don't feel the same for me. I'm just glad that you let me stay. Being with you..."

"...is hurting you and yet you stays with me through everything..." The Doctor cut in. He looked at you with a sad look. "I don't deserve you."

You shook your head at that. "Don't say that. It was my choice to stay with you. You show me the wonder of the universe and more. I would always be grateful for that. I love you, Doctor, I'm not sorry that I do and...you shouldn't either. I don't regret you so please don't..." You trailed.

He smiled as he drew you closer and kissed your forehead. "Live a good life, my (name), find your happiness no matter what happen..." He murmured to you.

You left him and told Amy to go to the Doctor.

"People fall out of the world sometimes, but they- they always leave traces, little things you can't quite account for. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely, and, if something can be remembered, it can come back." You heard him says that to Amy.

River stood by your side. She was staring at the Doctor and Amy with a solemn look. Her eyes are glassy.

"It will be alright. He will come back." You said to her suddenly. You don't know why you said that. Maybe your faith in the Doctor is still strong, making you believe that he will overcome this and you need to share that faith with those who love him as you do.

River looked surprised at your words. She smiled kindly at you and took one of your hand in hers.

The world exploded and rebooted. Everything felt like it was spiraled out of your control. When you come to, you were sitting in your favorite park bench with a book in your hands. You blinked as you tried to shake off the feeling of loss and grief within your heart but you have no idea why you felt like that.

As you stared blankly at space, you heard the wheezing sound of the Tardis. At first, you are confused as you no longer recognized that sound. Then the blue box appeared a few feet away from you and your memory started to return. You dropped your book as you stood up and walked cautiously toward the box.

The Doctor, dressed in a suit and a top hat, walked out of the Tardis. "Come on, (name), we will miss Amy and Rory's wedding." He said.

"Doctor?" You whispered.

He smiled brightly at you.

You walked toward him and tentatively touched his arms as if wanting to make sure he is real. Tears filled your eyes once more and you hugged him tight. He hugged you back, rubbed your back in gesture of comfort before he pulled you inside the Tardis.

He explained to you how Amy brought him back just as he predicted. He had just been crashing the Pond's reception and he was trying to move the Tardis out of the ballroom for space. It was then he come back for you.

As you got out of the Tardis and into the ballroom with the Doctor, Amy grinned and pulled you into a hug. "I'm so glad you are here, (name)." she said.

You smiled at both Amy and Rory. You complimented her. She looked beautiful in her wedding dress. The two of you had a good laugh when you both saw how the Doctor danced a giraffe dance with the kids.

You smiled fondly as you watched Amy and Rory danced together. You are glad that they have got their happy ending.

The Doctor stood beside you with a fond smile. "2000 years. The boy who waited." He said.

You noticed River outside the windows, smiling and then leaving. You told the Doctor that you saw her and the Doctor goes to her, saying something about having to return her diary to her. You watched him go with a somewhat bittersweet smile.

7777

The Doctor invited you to watch his death in Lake Silencio. How can he be this cruel? Both you and Amy can't cope, seeing his painful death. Rory and River are the ones who still did as the Doctor told, still wanting to complete the mission given to them.

Then a younger version of the Doctor appeared before you screwing your mind even more. River explained it to you and the Ponds regarding the Doctor and the rule of time. She made you and the Ponds swore never to tell the Doctor about his death back in Lake Silencio.

In America, you have another talk with River. She insinuated that the Doctor has feeling for both you and River. But you already know that the Doctor would never pick you so why are you still insist to stay with him? Are you really this foolish? He is stringing you along just like the Dream Lord said. Are you this pathetic that you will let him do that forever?

You made up your mind about leaving the Doctor and the Tardis. It was time you stop waiting for a man who would never love you properly. You felt a bit guilty about leaving the Ponds to deal with the upcoming death of the Doctor but you found you no longer can stand be around him anymore.

You told the Doctor about leaving. He look like a sad kicked puppy much to your guilt. He convinced you to stay until he can give you a proper last hurrah.

Next thing you know, there are two Doctors, one of them is a ganger. You tried to keep your distance from both Doctors. You thought it was the only way for you to leave, stop caring for the Doctor, harden your heart. But you found you couldn't ignore the Doctor especially in the face of death so when the original Doctor decided to let the ganger Doctor stay behind to die, your mind just flashed back into that dreadful day at Lake Silencio and you just 'nope' so bad as you lost your marble and forced the ganger Doctor to come on board of the Tardis.

Of course you know, the ganger Doctor is just that, a ganger but the original Doctor is the one who treated the ganger as something more and now he's just gonna let him die? The Doctor is the one who said a ganger has all their counterpart's memories. The ganger Doctor is essentially the Doctor too, so how can you let him die?

You pleaded like crazy with the ganger Doctor not to sacrifice himself. The ganger Doctor tried to get you to go with the original Doctor, telling you that your Doctor is safe with you but there is no reasoning with you. He eventually relents when you gave him ultimatum to get inside the Tardis or you stay here with him and die together. Deep down, you were yelling at your stupidity but you could only feel relieved when he finally surrender to your wish for him to stay alive.

You heard the Doctor telling all the gangers on board of the Tardis about how the energy inside the time ship will stabilized them and made them a real person. You wondered if the ganger Doctor is a full Time Lord or become a human but you didn't ask, still in somewhat shock state. You wondered what the original Doctor must think of you and how the ganger Doctor will fit in the Tardis. Maybe you messed this up but you could hardly regret the Doctor, any Doctor, for long.

There is no time to concern with the issue of ganger Doctor though when both Doctors finally revealed the truth about Amy being a ganger too.

7777

After rescuing Amy and losing baby Melody and to finding out River is Melody, you could finally have time to yourself. You wondered if leaving the Doctor is still something you wanted.

River is on board of the Tardis and shamelessly flirted with both Doctors.

You snorted to yourself. What were you thinking? Now that there are two Doctors, one of them will choose you? How stupid you can be? There is part of you who now wonder which Doctor died in that Lake Silencio, the original or the ganger? You wondered if your motive of rescuing ganger Doctor is as shallow as hoping one of them will pick you or as cruel as to have replacement Doctor to face death in Lake Silencio. But it was hardly your problem now. You decided you still have to leave.

That's when the ganger Doctor come to you with his proposition. "Come with me, (name)." He pleaded.

Your mouth dropped open in shock. "W-why?"

He smiled. "I am alive because of you. Is it a wonder I would like to spend the rest of my life with you?"

"B-but..." You wanted to ask him about River but your mind stop you short. That was probably not a nice thing to ask. Of course, River will get to be with the original. The Doctor and River Song in the Tardis. You were always the spare and now it seemed this Doctor is too.

He looked insecure now. "I understand if you didn't want to. I just want a chance to be the man that you deserve."

Without thinking, you pulled him closer and kissed him. As you broke the kiss, he stared at you solemnly before suddenly burst into adorable giggle which in turn make you smile.

7777

The ganger Doctor switched his name into John Noble. You smiled at his chosen surname in honor of Donna Noble.

You and John traveled the universe every time you can but it was limited due to the limited ability of the vortex manipulator. He was working on making a better and safer version of vortex manipulator though.

You both picked a place to be called home since you both got no Tardis as home-base. He made your dream house, a small cottage with white picket fence and he even got you a dog.

"How did you even get all of this?" You asked.

"I am still technically the Doctor, you know. I have friends in high place." He said as he made a motion with his hands.

You laughed as you hugged your new pet companion. You and John had a funny banter about naming the dog. John insisted that he speaks dog and the dog wanted to be called some silly, really long name.

7777

You eventually married John. It was hard at first as you were still riddled with insecurity, believing that he will somehow grew tired of you and left on his own. He had assured you many times that he would never abandon you. He murmured about how he can hardly believe that the other Doctor actually let you go with him. You asked him what he is talking about but he distracted you with hug and kisses. You eventually believe him and accepted his marriage proposal.

"I wanted to grow old with you." He told you.

That honestly the nicest thing the Doctor ever said to you, well, technically it wasn't really the Doctor who said it. it was John. Suddenly your mind flashed back into Rose and metacrisis Doctor. Were the two of you similar to them in some way?

You have a happy marriage with John. There were some up and down. He, in some way, is the Doctor so naturally he can't quite cope to stay in one place too long. Sometimes he took you to sightseeing and have your own adventure which thankfully does not include some deathly crisis. Sometimes he goes on his own, those days are hard for you, worrying he will not come back for you.

One day, he returned home injured. He was not alone. Jack Harkness is with him. You were surprised to see him again and really scared upon seeing the injured John. Apparently someone thought John is the Doctor and attempted to kill him. Had it not for Jack, he would have died. Thankfully, his injury is not fatal. In fact, one might say, he is quite lucky. You know John still have some Time Lord qualities in him, he can't regenerate but he has a somewhat rapid healing ability.

Tears fell on your cheeks as you repeatedly punched John in his arms much to his dismay. "You are grounded forever, you jerk!" You yelled.

Jack is amused as he watched your interaction with John before the smile slide off his face. "You two need to hid. The world, right now, is against the Doctor and John having his face will not help his case."

"What do you mean? What happened?" You demanded.

Jack and John exchanged a look with each other.

"It's the Doctor." Jack said grimly. "He did something."

"Did what? What are you talking about?" You asked suddenly feeling scared on top of all the confusion.

"He is not the Doctor we used to know any longer, (name). He's changed. And I didn't mean he regenerated and has a change of personality again. I mean, he's changed." John said.

You stared at John. "You met him?"

John shook his head. "I didn't. But I saw the trail of destruction he left behind." He said grimly.

You stared blankly at your husband. "I'm sorry, did you just say a trail of destruction?"

John and Jack nodded somberly at you.

"No, you're wrong. We are talking about the Doctor here. He is not..."

"You don't know the Doctor as much as you think you do, (name)." John replied.

"But... John, you believe that the Doctor...you are capable of this...??"

"Well..." John laughed harshly. "...we didn't get the name oncoming storm for nothing you know..."

You shook your head. "No. Something must have happened to him. Maybe someone controlled his mind. He would not do whatever it is you think he did." You stubbornly said.

"(name)..." John called out with a sigh.

"No!" You left your husband and Jack as you went into the garden.

You walked back and forth as you tried to come to term with what John had said. You picked up your smartphone and your fingers hovered over the Doctor's Tardis number. You bit your lips and you called him on your phone.

John suddenly pulled your phone out of your hand and smashed it into the ground.

"John, what the hell!!" You were angry but when you saw his expression which is a mixture of anger and fear, you become speechless.

Jack entered the garden and told the both of you to run before the Doctor come for you both.

John nodded grimly as he grabbed his vortex manipulator and sonic screwdriver before turning to you and said, "I know you are afraid, (name) but you have to trust me. Please trust me." He cupped your face as he is pleading for you to believe him.

"I do trust you, John." You replied.

"Then you have to believe me. The Doctor is dangerous. He's a changed. And now we need to run before he came for us."

"He would not hurt us!" You said, almost offended.

John look saddened. "Maybe before. Now, I'm not so sure."

What could possibly happened to the Doctor? You were very curious but also very afraid especially as you watched John loses his cool with each passing moments.

7777

You went on the run with John. He had used perception filter on the both of you. The people of the whole world is afraid of the Doctor but also they were trying to kill him. Since John had his face and everything, people might targeted him or might try to use him against the Doctor. He does has his memories. He could be a threat but mostly to the Doctor. As you realized this, you are very afraid for John.

While on the run, you started to find out exactly what you feared that the Doctor has somehow turned evil and has set many planet on the course of destruction. You wanted to cry. What happened to the Doctor for him to change this much? John had told you about a prophecy of the Valeyard, a version of the Doctor turned evil, and now it seemed the prophecy is finally here.

You are scared, wondering if your life with John will ever be safe again. There were a few times, people are able to see past the perception filter and that few times almost cost John his life. You almost hated the Doctor for putting you and John in deep end like this.

You and John eventually found a safe place to stay. Each night you hugged him tight, afraid that you will lose him for good.

7777

You put out the grocery on the table at the small house you and John rented. You thought this day would come and goes as usual (it wasn't good but slightly okay) but of course the universe seemed to conspire against your happiness because as you went into the living room, you saw the Tardis. You gasped, feeling like someone just punch you in the gut.

"Hello, my dearest (name)."

You slowly turned around to face the Doctor. He was wearing a dark purple suit. His eyes looked weary but he was smiling at you like an old friend. "D-Doctor..."

"You looked good. John has taken a good care of you." He said with approval.

"John, where is he? What did you do to him?" You demanded.

"John is safe...for now."

You flinched at that. "W-what do you want, Doctor?"

He smiled as he walked toward you. His hand hovered over your cheek before settling to touch your hair instead. "I miss my best friend. Just pop up for a visit."

You are shaking and he noticed it.

He smiled in amusement but his eyes looked sad. "Seemed like you have heard some stories about me then..."

You took a step back away from him. "Please just leave me and John alone."

"I would if I could, dearest (name), but John had to go against me after everything I did for him." The Doctor said with disdain. "Gave him my first face and then he dare to go up against me?"

"W-what?"

The Doctor hummed. "I guess you didn't know."

"Know what?"

"That John has been aiding the resistance against me."

You froze. John never told you that. He was always with you most of the time. How can he be aiding the resistance? But then again, part of you are not really surprised. John is the Doctor, after all, at least the part of the Doctor that is good. Is it a wonder that he will try to save the world from his other self? But you also want to slap him silly for putting himself in danger.

"Don't hurt him." You begged. "Please don't hurt him."

The Doctor tiled his head, observing you. "You love him." He sighed. "I guess you do since you left me and married the man."

You flinched again at what he is insinuating. "You had your chance. You choose River. He choose me."

"I know."

"Doctor, what happened to you?"

The Doctor laughed harshly. "Life, I guess. I lost the Ponds and I send River to the library a long time ago. Got a new companion. Clara Oswald. That impossible girl. You would have love her, (name), always keeping me on my toes, just like River." He looked sad now. "Always saving me, just like River. She splintered herself, you know, just to save my life. Having to be reborn again and again and died for the Doctor. I saved the original but I lost her again."

"What happened to her?" You asked.

"They took her from me and made it impossible for me to save her. I made them pay for what they did." He said with a faraway look on his face. "I've lost so much." He whispered sadly. "No more." He added grimly before turning his intense gaze on you.

You flinched under his gaze.

"Come with me."

"W-what?"

"I need you, (name). You have always been there for me before. I hurt you so many times, ignoring your feeling for me, taking you for granted...and now I can’t stand be apart from you any longer."

You shook your head. "N-no. I can't be with you. I'm with John now."

He looked sad when you said that and then a darker expression crossed his features. "You are happy with a cheap copy?" He laughed mockingly at you.

You glared at him. "He's not a cheap copy! He is a better man than you are!"

The Doctor laughed again and stopped short. "I know."

You stared at him in confusion with the way he acted. He said something cruel and the next he looked remorseful.

"I would have like for you to come quietly with me. I guess I have no choice." He said as he pulled a sonic screwdriver at you.

You recognized the sonic screwdriver as John's. You felt sudden fear for John. "What did you do? Doctor, what did you do to him?"

He snapped his fingers as the Tardis door suddenly opened. "Go ahead. He's in there."

You were hesitate at first but at the mention of John, you quickly went inside. You saw John on the Tardis floor, groaning in pain. "John!" You called out as you bend your knees near him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" Tears started to fell from your cheeks again.

"(name), run..." John whispered at you.

The Doctor went inside the Tardis but remaining standing on the doorway. He gazed at both you and John flatly.

"What did you do to him?" You demanded.

"Oh, I just reverse him. Your husband will turn into a yogurt again soon." The Doctor chuckled cruelly. "Funny that, yogurt..."

"Stop it! Just stop it! What do you want?!" You yelled.

"I told you what I want, (name)."

"What could you possibly want from me? Why are you doing this?"

He hummed. "You were always so loyal to me, (name). Back when I was sand-shoes, he treated you badly and still you stayed throughout his remaining life. You also stayed for me despite having a hard time to accept that I am still the Doctor, despite knowing what River is to me. That's why I allowed you to save him. That's why I allowed you to leave me for him. You deserve better." He said as he moved toward you, kneeling before you and cupped your face. "The first face this face saw... You are very dear to me, (name). I thought I could give you the same thing sand-shoes gave Rose. But now I realized I couldn't just let you go." He sighed. "The Dream Lord is right to warn you, (name), should have run from me. And now, I can't just let you go any longer."

"Doctor, please...don't do this."

The Doctor released you and stand up moving away from you. "So, I'm going to give you a choice, stay with me and I save your yogurt husband or refused me and well, he's yogurt...but I will still take you with me anyway." He chuckled. "Not much a choice I guess."

You glared hatefully at him. You turned to John in sorrow. "Fine. You win. Save him and I will go with you. But you have to leave him alone. No turning him back into a ganger."

"Deal." The Doctor grinned boyishly at you. You used to love that grin but now all you felt is hollow. He raised a hand toward you.

"Please let me say goodbye to him first."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Make it quick."

John groaned as the Doctor sonic-ed him into a stable condition. "(name), what did you do?"

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." You whispered to him. "I have to go with him."

John's eyes widened in fear. "No, (name), he is not himself. He is dangerous."

"I know, I have no choice. He will turned you back into a ganger otherwise. Can he really do that?"

John nodded in forlorn. "Unfortunately we are smart enough to do that."

The Doctor snorted at that.

You glared at him, demanding privacy and to your surprise, he did leave. You turned back to John. "At this rate, you have to become the Doctor that the world needs, John. He told me about the resistance."

"I'm sorry. I was careless. He found out."

You shook your head. "Then you have to be better, John. You have to. You are so much more than him." You said as you caressed his cheek lovingly. "I love you."

John pulled you close and kissed you.

"Alright, that's enough." The Doctor said.

You reluctantly stood up and leave John to stand by the Doctor's side. You glanced at the Doctor. "Give me your words that you will not harm him ever again."

"I promise as long as you stay with me, John Noble will be safe."

You watched as the Doctor moved around the console, readying the Tardis for take off, leaving John behind.

7777

He acted too hard to be like the way it was before, pretending to be the Doctor and his companion traveling the universe, except the universe hates him now. And to you, he was no longer your friend or the man you used to loved. You yearned to be with John but you know you can't.

He started acting like he was John. He took you on a date night, gave you chocolate and flowers. You played along to his whims, dressed in his chosen dress, dance with him and let him kiss you. Thankfully, he didn't demand you to have sex with him. You couldn't cope otherwise. But he made you sleep in the same bed as him in a room he choose to be yours and his now.

He took you out sightseeing so many times. He even took you to a villain gala. You didn't even know that was a thing. You felt sick how the guests of that ball greeted the Doctor as if he is the star of the show or something. It was there you first met Missy. The Doctor introduced her to you and told you that Missy is actually Mistress, another name for the Master. You can hardly believe that the Doctor is actually in a good speaking term with the Master, the man that used to torture the previous Doctor back on the Valiant during the year that never was.

Missy recognized you and predictably mocked you and your situation. You were furious when you learned she is the reason why John got caught by the Doctor. But it's not like you can do anything to her. You were mad and you left the Doctor's side. You refused to be taken to this sort of party. Despite angry at you for disobeying, he agreed not to take you to a villain gala again.

"I meant I know you are always so attached with your pets, Doctor, but this is ridiculous. Sooner or later, you will lose her too, she is only human after all." You heard Missy said to the Doctor.

The dark expression that crossed his feature made you really, really nervous.

7777

You pleaded the Doctor not to force immortality on you but he ignored you.

With the help of Missy, the Doctor got his hand on a drug or some technology that can prolong your life. He insisted to make you immortal just like Jack. He said he didn't want to lose you. He said he won't let anyone take you from him. Honestly, he made you very afraid.

And then he took you to a planet called Trenzalore where he released Gallifrey upon the universe. He didn't care that the planet got burn in the fight between Gallifrey and its enemies. With the help of the Doctor, if you can even called him that anymore, Gallifrey won. The Doctor was given a new set of regeneration as a reward from Rassilion. He thanked him for the reward and then proceed to kill him, proclaiming himself as the new president of Gallifrey.

After getting what he wanted from Gallifrey, he left the planet alone and took you back into the Tardis.

You couldn't believe him. He just do all those cruel things without blinking, not an ounce of remorse in him. Was the Doctor truly lost forever? And this man, he still claimed to be the Doctor, undoing the real Doctor's life work by turning everything upside down and burn down everything good. He found glee in soiling the name 'Doctor'.

And yet what it is with his obsession with you? He never care about you to that point before. Missy eventually explained what being the first face an incarnation saw meant. You finally got what you wanted, a special place in the Doctor's hearts, but why does it has to be like this?

Missy offered you a way to escape but you were suspicious about her intention. "Frankly I don't care whether you stay with the Doctor or not as long as you and him continue to provide me with entertainment. Sure, I could help you escape him without him ever knowing I help you. But you should know, he would never stop searching for you if you do. He would even burn planet after planet just to get to you. It would be fun to watch, well, for me anyway." She said.

How can you tried to escape when the price of freedom is other planet and its people dying because of you? You are not a martyr but even so you are not that selfish. And so you stayed by his side, trying your best to rein him in when possible. You learned he is willing to be merciful in your presence. You took full advantage of it in hope to save some.

You thought of John. He was your only hope. You hope he could somehow save the world but if he can't, you can only hope he will be okay wherever he is. As you thought of your immortality, you couldn't help but cry. You were supposed to grow old with John. You don't even know how many years has passed since last you saw him.

7777

Hope resurfaced within you when you heard news about John being active in resistance, outsmarting the Doctor in his scheme. You only found out because the Doctor lost his marble after being outsmarted by John.

"I should have turn him back into a yogurt..." He said begrudgingly.

You glared at him. "You made a promise to me, don't you dare break it."

"Given the chance, you would have run back to him, wouldn't you? Perhaps I should make sure that you won't have anyone to return to but me." He said with a cruel smirk.

"I am here with you as you wanted. Don't you dare harm John."

"Fine, I won't." He said but the look in his eyes made you suspicious.

"You are not allowed to scheme against him!"

"Oh, my dearest (name), don't you worry about me hurting that yogurt husband of yours. I won't need to lift a finger against him. I know someone who would very much like to do it." He said. "She has always hated my old-self. She would probably have as much fun as me to rile him up. John Noble, the stand-in Doctor."

You realized he was talking about Missy. You froze in fear. "No, make her stop."

"No one can stop Missy once she set her eyes on something. She has always been stubborn especially when it comes to me." He said with a smirk. "But, hey, don't worry, John is basically me, right? He will do fine."

"I hate you." You said.

His smirk faltered.

You turned around and left him in the console room.

7777

You were forced to watch another planet he conquered just because of boredom. He proclaimed himself as King and you his Queen. It was all very stupid, in your opinion. He made you wear a stupid crown proclaiming that crowns are cool. When he said that, you just remembered the old Doctor who kept telling everyone how bow-ties or fezzes are cool. It made you miss the Doctor terribly.

This version of the Doctor, once in a while, made you wondered if the old Doctor still resides within him deep inside but then whenever he did, he would started acting up and did something horrible to someone else as if making up for showing weakness.

You were once attacked by a member of resistance. You thought they hope to hurt the Doctor by killing you. But by then, you were already turned as an immortal by the Doctor. The Doctor was so furious and there is nothing you can do to make him show mercy. He lets loose the oncoming storm toward those who conspire against him in retaliation. After that, once you were both at your room, he would hug you tight and won't let go as if he is fearing that you will disappear. It made you think how lonely and sad he must be. You hugged him back.

He tricked you into marrying him, dangling the fate of a planet to do it. "I'm going to give you something that John didn't." You were very confused with what he meant. "I'm going to give you my name."

Your eyes widened in shock. River is the only one who know his name before. Why is he doing this? What was the point? You were very frustrated. "John Noble is the only name that matter to me." You said.

He ignored you, forcing you instead to follow some Gallifreyan ritual.

"Smile for the camera, dearest (name)." The Doctor whispered to you. "I'm sure that yogurt husband of yours is watching us got married live."

You recoiled from him but he made a firm grab of you to keep in position as he finished the ritual.

You heard Missy made a quip about how cruel the Doctor is to you. Well, duh. But apparently, she meant the ritual because the ritual forced a mental bond to form between you and the Doctor. You might be immortal but you were not made for a mental bond.

"She will learn to adapt with it." You heard the Doctor said. "We have forever to do it."

Honestly you hated these mental bond. You have no privacy even in your own mind. He likes to invade your mind and take a look of your memories. You screamed at him to leave you alone. You wanted to cry. You are losing your mind and he know it. Thankfully he relents and left your mind alone for the most part.

7777

One day, while the Doctor is out with Missy, John appeared on board the Tardis and he gave you a small gemstone and told you to hold it close on your person. He said he knew what the Doctor did to you and that gemstone could stop him from invading your mind, blocking him so to speak.

You were happy to see him but also scared. He told you not to worry about him. He said he went back to Gallifrey and now he is as much as a real Time Lord as the Doctor. He said the Doctor can no longer turned him into a ganger so you need not to worry anymore. You can come home with him.

At first you are reluctant, worrying about what Missy had said about the Doctor never stop looking for you if you escape and will burn everything in his path in order to get to you. You are also worry for John himself should the Doctor figure out wherever you escaped to.

But John make a convincing argument and so you took his hand and left the Tardis.

Only to find out John is not real. It was always the Doctor, trying to test your devotion and you failed the test.

"You wanted to see John so much? Fine, I will let you see him." The Doctor said angrily.

The Tardis landed somewhere. The Doctor pulled you harshly outside where he forced you to see a gravestone. John's name is craved on the gravestone.

You were shocked to say the least. With a trembling fingers, you touched the carving of his name on the gravestone.

"I didn't harm him, if that is what your thinking. Missy didn't either. He died. The people he fought for turned against him and killed him."

"No, you are lying!"

"Am I? You are welcome to investigate his death, (name). You know Jack Harkness, don't you? I'm sure he will help you with your investigation. Once you satisfy your curiosity, come and find me." The Doctor said.

7777

You were furious. The Doctor didn't lie. They did turned against John. They killed him. The best part of the Doctor, and they thoughtlessly killed him. And now the world is doomed forever with the Doctor that no longer quite the Savior. Frankly, right now you no longer care about the fate of these people.

You walked absentmindedly toward the coordinate of the Tardis which your darling husband helpfully put into your mind.

The Doctor watched you as you entered the Tardis. "Welcome home, (name)."

"I'm home..." You replied blankly.

A/N: I have no idea what I write here. I was desperate to produce a new dw fanfic since I only have a day left of holiday before going back to work, hoping not to waste my time just imagining and no writing, I finally able to write this. I watched a few of my favorite dw episodes and my mind ended up get stuck in the idea of ganger!doctor hence this happened.

I hope you likes this story and if you do, please kindly drop comment and more. Honestly I'm so nervous about posting this.

I would like to say thanks to those who follow my blog and has drop a like/comment/reblog to all of my past stories. Thank you so much for making me so happy. Stay awesome, everyone!

#11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #ganger!doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who fanfiction #dark!doctor #yandere!doctor who #shiefenwrites

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bi-naesala · 3 years

Text

A well-earned break

Fandom: Yakuza

Rating: E

Warnings: /

Relationships: Han Joon-gi/Zhao Tianyou, Kim Yeonsu/Zhao Tianyou

Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Han Joon-gi, Kim Yeonsu

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Blow Jobs, Nonbinary Zhao Tianyou

Summary:

Zhao takes advantage of a break during an Ijin Three meeting to have some fun with Joon-Gi Han.

(Also on AO3)

It’s during situations like this one that his father’s words echo in Zhao’s head: he has no patience, which is a bad trait for a leader. Well, guess what, pops? He is a bad leader, and no working on his flaws will ever fix that, even if he were willing to try it.

Though, he supposes, if he were more patient, maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so excruciatingly fucking boring. This isn’t even Liumang business per se, but more like something that the Geomijul and the Seiryu clan should’ve been able to solve between them, but politics are politics and Zhao, as much as he doesn’t want to be there, isn’t so foolish not to remain, lest they disrupt the carefully crafted equilibrium between the Ijin Three.

Still, if there was a way to make things less boring, they surely wouldn’t be upset about it…

Taking advantage of a well-earned break, he goes to hang in the lounge with some of their boys, as well as members of the Seiryu clan and the Geomijul, when a stupid idea comes to him. It’s not mortal - because Zhao’s aware that, if he dies here, it would mean war - but it could still be dangerous, which in their humble opinion makes it even more alluring.

He scouts his surroundings, and he’s surprised to see that the person he’s looking for is actually here, which is weird because he’d usually be attached to Seong-hui during times like this, but Seong-hui isn’t here.

Oh well, it’ll be easier for him to approach him at least, which he does immediately.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Joon-gi Han? Shrinking from his errand boy duties?”

If Zhao has managed to get a rise out of the other, there is no sign of it on his face. Stoic son of a bitch.

“Zhao-san,” he greets him, in that usual polite tone of his, lightly bowing his head.

“C’mon Han-kun, there’s no need to be so formal,” Zhao states; after all, his dislike for this kind of stuff is well known.

“Nonetheless, hierarchy exists for a reason, and it would be uncouth of me not to respect it,” Joon-gi replies, though he quickly adds, “And to answer your previous question, no, I’m not ‘shrinking’ from my duties. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Cryptic answers are Han’s specialty, but at least it’s enough for Zhao to understand that, whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it under Seong-Hui’s orders. Interesting.

“Then I suppose I couldn’t steal some of your time?” they ask, exaggerating his innocent demeanor so that he’ll make Han suspicious.

It works: Han narrows his eyes at him, though no matter how hard he’s trying to keep a neutral demeanor, Zhao can see through his bullshit. He knows he’s intrigued. If Zhao has picked on the signs correctly - and they usually do - then his interest for the other is reciprocated - and how could it not be? They’re both quite attractive after all.

“What for?” Han asks, and yet he hasn’t explicitly said no. If Zhao had felt like showing all his cards, he would’ve smirked at that.

They take a step closer. “Don’t you think this meeting’s boring? Personally, I hate that we’re stuck in here at least for another hour,” he says.

Joon-gi Han doesn’t say anything, but he raises an eyebrow at him, a silent invite to continue.

“Well, if you’re so interested, I might share the idea I’ve just had after all…”

“I-I don’t think we should do this here,” Han suddenly mutters.

What comes out of Zhao’s lips in an amused huff. “Could’ve said it sooner, huh?”

Did he really just wait for them to get inside one of the bathroom stalls and for Zhao to drop to their knees before having second though?

“If you really don’t want to, fine, but man, what a shitty timing…”

If Han is really getting cold feet, Zhao will stop, but this doesn’t mean that he won’t be a bit sad about it - though he’ll never openly show it because that would be admitting that he’s not as above everything as he appears.

Joon-gi Han stays silent for a moment, probably thinking about the repercussions this affair will have. Always the overthinker.

His answer, though, surprises Zhao.

“Very well. Carry on.”

“W-What?” Zhao stutters, taken aback by the sudden change.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Han asks, only to then smirk. “Unless you are the one who’s having second thoughts…”

This little…

Zhao furrows their eyebrows, and a frown appears on his face before he can stop it and keep his usual laid-back demeanor. As he reaches Han’s pants and fumbles with the belt, there’s only one thing they can think.

“I’ll show you.”

They do indeed show him, given the way Han is barely able to keep his voice down, even going as far as to cover his mouth in order to muffle those little noises that, despite his best efforts, still come out.

Zhao isn’t perturbed by any of this shit, and keeps sucking his dick like a champ. He keeps it quite simple, only pulling a few tricks when it looks like Han’s getting used to the rhythm he’s dictating just because they want to keep him on his toes; it’s not often that he gets to see the Joon-gi Han like this, with his guard lowered, and he intends to make the most of it.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, Zhao can’t lie. The more Han loses his composure, the more addicted they feel to it.

When Han’s hand shoots to grab their hair, Zhao knows he has him wrapped all around his finger, and so he begins to slow down, right when Han was beginning to feel close to the orgasm.

He almost smirks at the frustrated huff that he lets out, but no matter what, Zhao will not go faster than this. Well, there is something that could give them an incentive, but Han has to say it first.

“Zhao-san.”

Cute, he’s calling for him now, but unfortunately this isn’t what Zhao’s waiting for.

“Zhao-san… faster.”

Closer, but still not it.

Taking pity on him, Zhao pulls away, gaze fixed on his face. “What’s the magic word?” they ask, pointing Han to the right direction.

At first Han remains silent, but the need to come soon takes over whatever sense of dignity or shame he must be feeling right now. Zhao almost wants to take a picture of him, to immortalize how red he’s become - and he can’t even look at him in the eyes!

“Faster… please…”

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” Zhao teases him, though he’s merciful enough to wrap their lips around Han’s dick again, sucking it way harder than he was doing before.

Now that he’s actually putting some effort in this blowjob, Han doesn’t last long.

You’d figure that someone so intent in trying to make the least amount of noise possible would keep it that way throughout the whole ordeal, but Han half-shouts that he’s close, surprising even Zhao. He either has a secret exhibitionism kink, or Zhao must’ve driven him so mad that he’s not noticing how loud he’s being. Zhao hopes it’s the second.

Knowing that they can’t make a mess - not that he truly needs an excuse to do this - Zhao doesn’t pull away when Han comes, swallowing everything. Only then they pull away, making a show of licking his lips just to fluster Han further, succeeding of course.

The expression on his face is almost comical as he watches Zhao. Is he going to act scandalized now of all times?

In response, Zhao flashes him a smile, and that seems to get Han out of his trance, as he helps him up. Zhao’s lucky their joints don’t crack, but damn it doesn’t feel good to suddenly stand after staying on his knees for such a long time. Eh, they’re not as young as he once was; being almost thirty, he’s basically decrepit now - mental note: never say something like that near chairman Hoshino, or he might get offended or worse, he’d try to lecture them.

“Zhao-san… Um…”

Han’s voice is enough to bring Zhao back to the present, saving him the embarrassment of going on a tangent in their head about aging. Right, he’s still in the bathroom with him.

He recovers immediately, diverting Han’s attention by lightly patting on his cheek. “So? Good, huh?”

“I fear saying so will only succeed in further boosting your ego,” Han replies, matter-of-factly as always. “But… it was.”

“Aw, thank you Han-kun~” Zhao replies, purposefully standing way too close to Han than he should, just to elicit another reaction out of him, but he wasn’t expecting Han to grab them by the neck and draw him for a deep kiss. They can’t help but to let out a noise of surprise, which cause Han to smile against his lips, but oh well, it’s not like Zhao can complain about it.

Wouldn’t you know it, not only he has a nice dick, but he’s also a good kisser.

As much as Zhao would love to spend whatever time they have left here, kissing Han and maybe going back to do something more, he knows that he has a duty to attend to, no matter how much they don’t want to do it, so he has to unfortunately pull away from those sweet, sweet lips.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay here, we should go back,” they say, then. Han nods, but it’s hard for Zhao to understand how he feels about it; he hopes he’s going to miss this closeness too.

“Yes, Zhao-san. It would be wise to join back with the others.”

After getting out of the bathroom, Zhao still attempts to make some small talk, because lord forbids he keeps their mouth shut for once.

“You know, you don’t have to call me Zhao-san all formal like that, especially while I suck you off. Makes me feel older than I actually am.”

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot,” Han replies. “I have to respect the chain of command, no matter what.”

“Didn’t see you thinking about that back there,” Zhao teases him, pointing to the bathroom with their head. He almost laughs at the offended expression on Han’s face at his words.

“Well…” the other begins, clearly trying to find a clever comeback. “That was an exception,” is what he comes up with, before beginning to walk away.

If he walks faster, they might be able to keep up with him, running after him like a schoolgirl with her senpai isn’t something Zhao would do, so he stays behind.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like a child!” they shout after him, but Han doesn’t stop his tracks, not that Zhao expected him to do so.

“Well, that was fun anyway! Call me if you want to do it again!” he adds, then, but this time as well he gets no reaction from Han, though they notice that his step falters just for a moment, so he must’ve breached through.

After this nice diversion, unfortunately they have to head back to the meeting, but now his mind feels lighter at least. He’ll be able to handle another few hours of this bullshit.

And so they settle down at the business table and lets Seong-hui and Hoshino discuss what they need to discuss, all while his mind is pleasantly blank, focused only on remembering the sweet sounds that Joon-gi Han made while their lips were wrapped up around his cock.

Man, that was fun. The only downside is that he won’t be able to brag about it, because if word goes around of what happened, both his and Han’s reputations would suffer from it. Oh well, at least he can be internally proud of himself.

They wonder if Han will ever be willing to repeat the experience; as for him, he knows for a fact that he’d love to do it again, and maybe even beyond a hushed blowjob inside a toilet stall.

Oh well, he won’t get an answer just wondering about it, but they’re not worried about that, because of course he’ll try to ask Han again - see, having no sense of shame does help in life!

Despite their effort, he can’t contain a small smirk on his lips, though they’re quick to cover it with his mouth, pretending he’s pondering on what is being discussed.

This is going to be so much fun.

#zhaohan #tianyou zhao #joon-gi han #yakuza #rgg #yakuza like a dragon #spicy #mine #kim yeonsu #my fics

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pearlsephoni · 4 years

Text

When Immortal Meets Ineffable

Can also be read on AO3

Rating: G

Fandoms: Good Omens, The Old Guard

Pairings: Joe/Nicky, Aziraphale/Crowley (ofc)

Summary: Nicky's love for books has introduced him to many wonders, but he never anticipated meeting a pair of men whose existence seems just as impossible as his own. Or: a gay, immortal couple walks into an old bookshop owned by a gay, angel/demon couple.

A/N: The sign on Aziraphale's bookshop door is real, I copied the text from here lol And I owe my life to this 3D recreation of the shop Also this is my first time attempting to publish a fic on here, so pardon any formatting weirdness. More author’s notes can be found on the AO3 page!

Immortality was exhausting. It was impossible to build a normal life and settle down without sparking suspicion, so no single place could be “home” for very long. They couldn’t build a family, or climb the ladder of a career, or even build many friendships outside of their core group.

Without the more…“standard” goals available to them, each member of the Old Guard ended up setting their own personal quests. Andy learned every language and style of martial arts she could. Booker challenged himself to try a new whiskey at every bar they visited. Joe was close to completing his goal of visiting every possible art museum in Eurasia, and would soon be expanding his scope to the world. And Nicky was determined to read as many of the world’s books as possible.

But that wasn’t the only reason why he and Joe ended up seemingly visiting every bookshop in Europe. Living forever meant you had an infinite amount of time to lose and find things, and unfortunately for Nicky, his list of lost items included a near-first edition copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy.

Books didn’t hold the same appeal for Joe, but he was still always willing to join his life partner in his visits to bookshops. What caused him chagrin wasn’t the visits, but the seemingly futile quest to find such a rare copy of a classic book. So when Nicky immediately tugged his jacket back on to head into London, Joe was a bit more reluctant than usual.

“Hayati, wouldn’t we have better luck looking in museums for something so rare?”

“I’m not just looking for La Commedia, my heart,” Nicky reminded him with a small smile. “I need a new book to read, too.”

“Of course, and that’s why you are going to Waterstones and not another small, old bookshop?” That small smile turned guilty, and Joe couldn’t help letting out a sigh. “Do you have a destination in mind, or will you be wandering again?”

“Why don’t you come with me and find out?”

It wasn’t fair of Nicky to use his rare, broad smiles to win their smaller bickers, he knew it. But even a relationship with the love of his life wouldn’t have lasted almost a millennium without the occasional cheap trick. And it was so hard to feel guilty when his little tricks resulted in Joe’s hand warmly wrapped around his as they walked through London.

As it so happened, he did have a destination in mind: A.Z. Fell & Co., an old bookshop that he remembered seeing on a random street corner in London. It had been closed the first (and last) time he tried to pay it a visit, all those years ago, and the sign on the door detailing the store hours simply raised more questions than answers for Nicky:

Bookshop Opening Hours:

I open the shop on most weekdays about 9:30 or perhaps 10am. While occasionally I open the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1, except on Tuesday. I tend to close about 3:30pm, or earlier if something needs tending to. However, I might occasionally keep the shop open until 8 or 9 at night, you never know when you might need some light reading. On days that I am not in, the shop will remain closed. On weekends, I will open the shop during normal hours unless I am elsewhere. Bank holidays will be treated in the usual fashion, with early closing on Wednesdays, or sometimes Fridays. (For Sundays see Tuesdays.)

-A.Z. Fell, Bookseller

“It’s a miracle this place is still running,” Joe muttered now, squinting at the wordy sign. Nicky was more interested in the sign hanging next to it, blissfully simpler and blessedly flipped to read, “Open.” The door was unlocked, and rang with a cheerful jingle as the immortals pushed it open.

“Hello there! Welcome to A.Z. Fell & Co!”

Nicky had barely been able to fully take in the warm, crowded space of the bookshop before his attention was pulled to a small, pale man dressed in a white suit. He seemingly appeared out of thin air from behind a small desk next to a bookshelf to the left. He had a bright, welcoming smile, and looked positively cherubic with his light blonde curls and rosy cheeks. “How may I help you today?”

“Oh, I-”

“We’re just looking,” Joe cut in, giving Nicky a gentle nudge. It was a reminder enough not to draw attention with their unusual search. “Wanted to see what we could find in such a unique shop.”

“Lovely! Well, if you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to ask!”

“Thank you,” Nicky replied with a smile, before wandering over to the cluster of bookshelves on their right, pulling Joe with him.

He always lost track of time in bookshops. Even Joe, for all he insisted that Nicky was the reader, could get lost in the trinkets and random findings to be seen in an old shop. Maybe that was why, for all their battle-honed instincts and attention to detail, they didn’t realize someone else had entered the store until a new voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Angel!”

“Ah, Crowley! What a pleasant surprise! What’re you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see what you’ve got in stock.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not, I was going to ask you to lunch.”

“Oh! Well...that’s very kind of you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t just close my shop in the middle of the day!”

“Yes you can, it’s your shop, if anyone can, it’s you.”

“But I have customers! Like...like these young men!”

Nicky, with a thousand years of life behind him, never thought of himself nor Joe as “young.” No matter how ageless they were, every year weighed on them, a burden that was only bearable because they didn’t have to weather it alone. So it didn’t occur to him that they were the “young men” the shop owner referred to, until the small, pale man suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Hello there! May I help you with anything?”

A Genovese curse flew from his lips, followed by a grunt after Joe gently pinched him. Nicky smiled apologetically at the owner. “Sorry, ah...we’re alright, just looking.”

“Yes, well…” The shop owner had a confused tilt to his eyebrows, at odds with his kind smile. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, but...was that Old Genovese you were speaking?”

“You recognize it?” Nicky blurted out before he could stop himself. It had been centuries since either of the immortals had met someone else who knew the language.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s been a while since I’ve heard it.” A pink tint had risen to the small blonde’s cheeks, and his eyes now had a proud glint to them. “That’s very impressive, I didn’t think anyone spoke it anymore!”

“No...neither did we.” He glanced at Joe, and was met with eyes that looked as disconcerted as he felt.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Please let me know if you need help with anything!” The shop owner cheerfully strolled back to the counter, where his friend - Crowley, Nicky remembered - was staring at him and Joe with what felt like suspicion, even through his sunglasses. The redhead murmured something to the blonde that made the latter glance back at them with another smile, one that Nicky returned before he quietly urged Joe behind another bookshelf.

“What the hell?” Joe hissed as soon as they were out of eyeline of the shop owner.

“Language, tesoro mio.”

Joe’s words switched to old Maghrebi, but remained just as confused and indignant. “Nico, we haven’t met anyone else who speaks Genovese in decades, maybe even centuries, if we don’t count linguists.”

“I know.”

“So how does an owner of an old bookshop recognize it?”

“We’ve seen some books that are much older than what we usually see in a shop like this. Maybe he recognized it from a book?” Even as he uttered the words, Nicky knew the explanation was pathetic. The look of disbelief he received from his lover let him know he wasn’t alone in thinking that.

“He said it’s been a while since he’s heard it,” Joe reminded him. “And he recognized it as it was spoken, not written down somewhere.”

“What are you trying to say? That he’s another immortal? One we somehow haven’t dreamed of in all this time?”

“No, of course not...but…” Joe peered at the shop owner and his friend through a gap in the books. “Maybe there’s something different about him. Maybe immortals aren’t the only strange people in the world.”

“Even if that were true, Yusuf, don’t you think we would have run into one before? Our abilities have been noticed before, by people who didn’t know what to look for. We of all people would have noticed if there were other powers out there.”

“Unless they do as much as we do to stay out of notice.”

It was Nicky’s turn to peer at the odd couple through the books, except this time, the redhead, Crowley, was looking right at him. Or at least, in their direction. He jerked away from the bookshelf and immediately moved deeper into the shop, tugging Joe with him. “We can talk with the others about it later. For now, let’s buy something and leave.”

“Still determined to find your book?”

Nicky offered a sweet smile to Joe, but didn’t bother hiding the mirth in his eyes. “Of course, my heart.”

He didn’t end up finding the book he was looking for, much to his disappointment and Joe’s quiet amusement. But he did find an old, old Italian Bible that stirred distant memories of a classroom reciting verses, and that was enough to justify the visit.

Satisfied in his choice, he moved towards the cashier register, only to be pulled up short by Joe. Nicky furrowed his brows in confusion - for someone who had been so reluctant to come, Joe suddenly seemed very keen on staying. He glanced back at him to find those dark eyes trained on the men behind the counter, one finger to his lips. Battle instincts kicked in, and he obediently trained his hearing to the low muttering coming from the other men.

“Now really, Crowley, it’s simply not possible! Even if the Almighty really did send spies after us, I would at least recognize them. I’ve never seen those men in my life!”

“Then maybe they’re demons. We’ve always had better corporeal disguises anyway. Would explain why we don’t recognize them.”

“Have you ever seen demons behave like that with each other?”

“Like what?”

“Oh come now, you must have felt it. The energy around them is downright bursting with love! It’s just like…”

“...Angel, like what?”

“W-well...like two people in love. Nothing at all like you demons behave.”

“‘You demons’? Might I remind you of who saved the most valuable books here, Aziraphale?”

It could’ve been just another argument between an old couple, especially an old married couple. There was no mistaking the love and pure affection that drenched every bickering phrase between them. But where Nicky had thought “Angel” was a sweet nickname, the casual use of terms like “demons” and “the Almighty” stirred a deeper sense of suspicion awake in him...and a rush of exhilaration. The sensible majority of his mind told him there was no earthly way he was staring at an angel and a demon. Even if angels and demons were real, they wouldn’t own an old bookshop, or walk around dressed like a dandy or an aged member of a rock band.

But a small part of him, the part of him that had him wandering to a church on calm Sundays and uttering panicked prayers over Joe’s body in the middle of battle, felt a thrill at the idea that he was staring at proof. Proof that his centuries of faith, his short-lived livelihood in the church, wasn’t in vain. When he finally tore his eyes away from the odd couple to look at Joe, he was met with a small smile of understanding under an unsure gaze. Of course his love understood what was running through his mind, even without a single word uttered between them.

Nicky took a steadying breath before he finally nodded at Joe, giving his hand a light squeeze. The shop owner and his...friend (partner?) were still bickering when they approached the cashier, and Nicky caught snippets of something about a church, a bomb, a satchel of books, before the argument was cut short by their arrival at the counter.

“Ah, gentlemen, hello again! Did you find everything alright?” the small blonde man - Azira...phale..? - greeted them with a wide smile, while Crowley simply stared at them with an unnervingly straight face. His gaze prickled at Nicky’s awareness, despite his best attempts to ignore him and return Aziraphale’s smile.

“I didn’t find the book I was looking for, but you have many rare gems here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry you couldn’t find it!”

“Don’t be. We have visited almost every bookshop in Europe in search of it,” Joe snorted with a grin. “At this point it’ll take a miracle to find it.”

Aziraphale perked up at Joe’s response, and glanced eagerly at Crowley...who returned the blonde’s hopeful smile with a stony stare. A moment of silence passed before the redhead finally muttered, “Sounds like you won’t be finding it any time soon.”

“No, but that’s alright. Seeing all these wonderful little shops offers a special kind of joy,” Nicky murmured with a reassuring smile to Aziraphale. “You should be proud of this shop. It’s a lovely refuge in this city.”

The owner looked a bit crestfallen, but brightened at Nicky’s smile and words. “That’s very kind of you to say! I’ve had it for quite a while, so it’s turned into a home of sorts for me. I’m so glad it feels that way to my patrons as well!”

Crowley’s attention was back on Nicky, and even though he couldn’t see the redhead’s eyes, he didn’t feel as burdened by the scrutiny anymore. It felt somehow softer now, more of a mild annoyance as the transaction was carried out. Crowley had been so quiet throughout their visit that when he suddenly spoke up, the surprise nearly made Nicky drop the small paper bag containing his book. “Just out of curiosity...what book were you looking for?”

“Ah...an early edition of The Divine Comedy in the original Italian. First edition, if possible.”

“...Dante’s Divine Comedy?” Crowley repeated, skepticism practically dripping off his words. “You’re looking for a first edition from the late Middle Ages?”

Nicky could hear the rustle of Joe straightening just behind him, ready to defend his admittedly-futile quest. He shifted just enough to hook their pinkies together in reassurance while he shot a small smile at Crowley. “More just seeing if it’s possible to find outside of a museum.”

Crowley nodded, but he still had a small frown of disbelief on his lips as he wandered towards the bookshelves at the very back of the shop. Aziraphale watched him meander away with wariness and hope lining his eyes, a combination of emotions that made Nicky wonder what kind of history the odd couple shared to prompt that kind of response.

“Nicolo,” Joe murmured, pulling him out of his idle curiosity. “We should be going. Andy will wonder what happened to us.”

“Right...yes, of course.” Nicky smiled again at Aziraphale, who suddenly looked panicked at their impending departure. “Thank you again.”

“Oh, are you leaving so soon? A-are you sure I can’t help you find anything else? I have other first editions that might interest you!”

“Really, it’s alright-”

“Here we are.” Crowley was suddenly back at Aziraphale’s side, tossing a book onto the countertop with a carelessness that became alarming when Nicky realized what he was staring at: an old, worn volume, the cover made of what used to be red leather, but was now faded into a dull brown. Pressed into the leather, and traced with gold flakes, were the words “La Commedia.” Nicky reached out to brush the worn cover, gingerly lifting it to reveal the title page, where he could read the publication date: 1438. “This...this is…”

“Not quite first edition, but about as good as you’re gonna get outside of a museum.” Crowley’s voice was casual, as if he had simply found any old book. But his smirk was smug, the gravity of his achievement definitely not lost on him, especially when Aziraphale was staring at him in what could only be described as adoration.

“How...how did you find this?”

“Call it a little miracle. How much does a little miracle cost, angel?”

“Oh, ah...well, the best miracles are priceless, wouldn’t you say?”

Nicky’s gaze jerked away from the book to stare at Aziraphale in shock. “No, I’m sorry, I cannot in good faith take this without paying you.”

“No, really-”

“Please, I insist-”

The shopowner was strangely reluctant to give Nicky a price, but with Joe’s help, they were able to settle on an amount. By the time they left the bookshop, it was even later than they had planned on leaving, but Nicky was in such a daze of disbelief over his luck, Joe ended up being the one to call Andy.

“Boss, we know, we’re sorry, but you’ll never believe- no, trust me, even Booker will get excited over this. We’ll be there soon, it will be worth the wait, I promise.” He laughed as he tucked his phone away, shaking his head fondly at Nicky. “Well, my heart, I hope this find is worth Andy’s wrath. She is not happy with us.”

“Yusuf...who were those men?” Nicky was staring numbly into the bag, still not believing the impossibly old book he held in his hands.

“What do you mean?”

He finally looked away from his new treasure to meet Joe’s eyes. “Do you think...that maybe…”

“What? That an angel and demon helped us find a book?”

“Stranger things have been true.”

“Perhaps…” Joe’s arm wrapped around Nicky’s waist, tucking him against his body to drop a kiss to his temple. “Whatever those men were, they were kind. I hope the bookshop continues to do well.”

“Mm...thank you for coming with me.” Nicky’s smile was full of adoration, and earned him another kiss, this time on his lips.

“Of course, hayati. Anything for you.”

“Anything? Well, there’s another book I’ve been looking for-”

“Buuuuut Andy and Booker might not approve.”

After almost 1000 years, he should have been able to better resist the effect of Joe’s cheeky smile. But after almost 1000 years, Nicky wasn’t in the habit of denying himself the little joys to be found in life, especially when they came from this impossible man.

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prolestariwrites · 4 years

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Ten Years On [1]

Fandom: Nanatsu no Taizai/Seven Deadly Sins Characters: Escanor, Merlin Warning: Major character death, Angst Rating: T Part: 1 of 3

My first entry of three for @escalin-week Escalin Weekend 2020. Part 2 and 3 will be published this weekend.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Ten years on, Liones is healed from the Second Holy War. The kingdom is thriving as it welcomes its new king and queen, the losses mourned but not forgotten, the people finding new hope and life in the peace that has settled over all of Britannia. Even Camelot, to the south, is rebuilding and renewing itself, Edinburgh now open and cleaned of death, the Fairy King’s Forest thriving with magic.

Escanor lives a very ordinary life, and for that he is glad. His days had never been ordinary: rather extraordinary, in fact, but he is a simple man who wants simple things and this new life, his third or fourth depending on one’s count, suits him just fine. He has an ordinary wife and an ordinary job and their ordinary home sits in an ordinary town. They are booksellers now, with their own store and everything, paid for by the pensions Meliodas had insisted to give to them for being Holy Knights one or two lifetimes ago.

It had been Merlin’s idea to buy a printing press, and now they publish writings as well. It was a way for her to push him to publish his poems, but she claimed it as selfish so she could put her own work into books. Soon they were well-known publishers of fine fiction and nonfiction, giving them an ordinary but comfortable life in their not-too-big not-too-small town where they raise their daughter.

This life is the easiest so far, his favorite, more so than prince or monster or bartender or knight. It is fitting, he assumes, considering this life was the most painful to create. He had stood on the battlefield, dying, giving his last words to Merlin. She was his sun and his moon, his stars, and he had to tell her, she had to know before he was gone from the world that she was loved. It was all he ever wanted, to love her, to look at her and see that she knew she was loved.

But Merlin had other ideas. It had pained him for quite a while to know she had given up Infinity to save him; after all, what is Merlin without magic? But she waves him away when he opines on the loss she must suffer to this day, telling him that she too always wanted ordinary. They gave up extraordinary together, on that day when she took the power of the gods and used it to sew muscle and skin and bone and breathe into his organs, making him whole.

Whole, and human. Both of them, completely ordinary humans.

They did what humans do: they married. Perhaps the day was just like any other, the ceremony the same, the dress and the cake and the hugs from their friends. Perhaps that night was the same, when they joined the way humans had done since the dawn of time. Perhaps their life is the same, mending socks and buying bread and arguing over whose turn it is to shut the windows. It is an ordinary life, but in its simplicity is something more, more than Escanor could have ever dreamed.

Perhaps there is nothing more ordinary than finding a baby in your arms nine months later. Escanor had cringed a bit at the bright orange hair and brown eyes, having hoped beyond hope that their child would be the image of Merlin; but she had been so pleased, and the moment the baby was laid in his arms he was shocked at the way it stirred something so wonderfully ordinary inside him as love. He had written his best-selling book that very night, hours upon hours of poetry describing the joys of the ordinary.

They had named her Avalon, and the three lived their lives in happiness. Fatherhood was a surprising talent of Escanor’s; he had retained some of the height and strength of the day yet the gentleness of the night, thanks to Merlin’s cleverness with magic. He was the perfect combination of both, a blend of prince and knight and friend. And like any other ordinary human, he thought that it would never end.

Human lives are fragile. Human lives are finite. Unlike the goddesses and demons and fairies and giants who enjoy years unimagined on the earth, whose powers work constantly by soaking up the energy of Briannia and healing all wounds great and small, humans work differently. Their strength is in their mortality, Merlin had told him once; for knowing it all could be gone makes them work harder, care more, invest all. Humans have inherited the earth because they are the only ones who could lose it. Escanor had chuckled at that, only partly understanding, because humans are mortal yet they win over the gods? It was extraordinary.

Today is not ordinary at all. It starts out the same: Escanor rises from the bed, alone, as Merlin often is up with the sun to write or check on an experiment or fill any orders before opening the shop. He washes his face and teeth before checking the kitchen, finding the bread he had left to warm on a little shelf over the hearth and the tea things laid out, his ritual every night so Merlin will have them waiting and ready in the morning.

He stares for a long time at the bread that has grown a bit crusty and the spoon that sits perfectly untouched next to the cup. He does not know how many minutes go by until he shakes himself, deciding to let the little tableau stay for now.

Escanor moves back into the bedroom, his feet quiet on the floor, and begins to dress. Usually he wears a pair of brown breeches and a comfortable linen shirt and a vest over all. Merlin teases him for his plain sense of style, but he reminds her if she wanted to be married to a man who could wear the latest fashions then she ought to have made him a bit shorter and less broad when she rebuilt his body. Of course, Merlin would not change an inch on him, so they leave the bold fashion choices to her.

Today is not ordinary. Today he wears black. Today he does not put on a vest, but a coat, and he does not fumble for the reading glasses he needs now that he is human. Today he must wear a hat.

The shop will not open today, so Escanor sits on his chair, looking out the window. He had spent many days and nights just like this with Avalon in his arms, ignoring Merlin’s warnings he would spoil the child if he did not let the baby sleep. But Escanor didn’t mind, thinking he would carry her forever if needed.

Where is Avalon now? He frowns for a moment, but remembers she is with Elaine. Yes, Ban and Elaine have the girl, staying with them at the Boar Hat. Ban is the proprietor there now, and even though he would not ordinarily approve of a girl of ten staying at a tavern, it is for the best, for now.

He watches the morning slowly unfold, wondering why the world is so quiet today. Do they know? Perhaps it’s his hearing, and he thinks he ought to see the doctor to check. He is getting on in years, after all.

A knock on the door breaks him from his thoughts. To his surprise, the Grand Master steps inside, but then Escanor remembers. It is a huge honor to be escorted by the Great Holy Knight, and as Howzer’s face turns to him with a sad kindness, Escanor remembers many things.

“Sir Escanor. I am so very sorry.” He strides forward, surety looking well on him. Escanor stands quickly as Howzer takes his hand. “This is a loss unbearable.”

“It’s fine,” he answers.

“Are you ready to go?”

Escanor nods. He lets the knight lead him out, thinking that Howzer will want to take care of him. They ride in the carriage in silence, until it becomes too heavy and Howzer begins to talk of things he remembers, the war they had shared. He is speaking of Istar when they arrive.

“Thank you,” Escanor says.

Howzer nods. “The others are waiting.”

Afterwards, it’s not so bad. Escanor sits at a table in the Great Hall and looks at his teacup. It is not unlike the one back at the house, the one untouched. Only this one has a fine mist rising from inside, and he watches it swirl with some curiosity.

The chair next to him moves and he looks over to see Ban folding himself into it. “You all right?” he asks.

There is a bit of whisky on his breath. Escanor nods. “I suppose I ought to—”

“You ought to do nothing but sit right there,” Ban interrupts. “You don’t do a thing until you’re ready, you hear?”

Escanor nods. “Good,” Ban continues. “I was sent over here to see if you’re hungry, but of course that’s nonsense. So let’s just pretend we are talking to keep the others off our backs, all right? Otherwise you’ll have Elaine and Elizabeth and Diane on top of you, and that’s a punishment you don’t need right now.”

“Of course,” Escanor replies.

Ban nods. He pours himself some tea, and Escanor spies the flask he pulls from his coat. A generous portion goes into the cup before he tops off Escanor’s as well. “There we are. That will help the bite.”

“Thank you.”

Ban drains his cup, but Escanor’s remains untouched. “It’s difficult, isn’t it?” he asks. Escanor glances over as Ban stares downwards. “Being human again, I mean. You and I, we were supposed to live forever. Merlin too, even though whether she was human or not to begin with I never really understood, if I’m being honest.”

It is startling to hear her name, but even more startling is Ban’s honesty. “Yes, it’s strange,” he agrees, not sure what to say.

“Our choices have been made long ago, and I would not take my power back for an instant, because it saved Elaine.” He watches as Ban pours another cup of tea, spiking it again generously before taking a sip. “You must remember that, Escanor. I would never, ever take that power back, even though it made me human. I would give up that immortality a hundred times a hundred to save Elaine.”

The words are registering, but they feel too distant to understand. “I’ll remember,” he says.

“Good.” Ban looks at him now. “We’ll keep Avalon for a while. She and Lancelot get along well, and it’s good for her to be around people. Elaine needs something to do anyway, seeing how the boy can’t stand to be mothered anymore.” He tilts his head a bit. “That all right with you?”

“Yes, yes it’s fine. Good. Avalon… she needs to be around people.”

Ban nods. He pushes to his feet and pats him on the shoulder. “That should keep the vultures at bay a while longer. Sit and stare at your tea, and let Howzer take you home. I’ll send him in a half hour.”

Escanor nods again, thinking in thirty minutes’ time, he’ll need to go home. He’ll go home and retrieve the bread and wash the cup and sweep the kitchen floor in case there are crumbs. He’ll remove his coat and store it away again, and then review the manuscripts waiting on the desk that he has neglected the past week. He will have an ordinary evening at home.

#nnt #nanatsu no taizai #escalin #esclainweekend2020 #escanor #merlin #ban #howzer #fan fiction #sorry

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fangirlshrewt97 · 4 years

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The Old Guard Fanfic - Good Books, Good Friends, and A Sleepy Vacation

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)

Pairing: Booker & Nile

Characters: Nile Freeman, Booker | Sebastien Le Livre

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: Family Bonding, Brother-Sister Relationships, Fluff, Family Feels, Vacation, Soft, Library, Books, Booksworms bonding over books basically, Mild Language, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Booker deserves a break, Nile deserves a chance to spend time with him

Summary:

“There are so many places I’ve never been, I don’t know where to start. Or even what I’d do.” she confesses. Booker hums, and Nile can feel him staring holes into her. She is still spinning the globe, gently tracing the borders on it when she hears the chair scrape behind her, and Booker’s footsteps approaching her. She turns when she feels the heat of a body at her back. Booker looks at her face before looking at the globe in her hands, gently taking it from her hands. He spins it once before stopping it mid-rotation. His fingers are on Canada. “Have you ever been to Quebec?”

Basically, Booker and Nile have a small vacation away from the others, and bond. Also they explore Booker's library.

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571494

///

They take a break. Four months. Quynh’s return, Andy regaining her immortality, the fight that nearly costs them everything, Booker coming back too soon, Joe and Nicky nearly losing each other again. By the time the dust settles, even Nile is ready to sleep for a hundred years.

They decide to reconvene in London, at Copley’s house, specifically instructing him to leave them alone for the entirety of the break for anything short of an apocalypse occurring. Andy and Quynh are out the second Copley agrees, they don’t tell anyone where they are going, and everyone finds it best to leave the two oldest warriors alone. They have already died too many times that year. Joe and Nicky are next, saying they are going to Malta and leaving without a second look.

That leaves Booker and Nile staring at each other across from Copley’s dining table while the host himself looks torn between resignation and questioning his life choices. When Booker still looks like he is spooked to speak, Nile takes the initiative. “What are you going to do Booker?”

The Frenchman chews on his lip, a nervous habit Nile would not guess he had, before looking at her. He is sitting hunched in the chair, still trying to make himself look as small as possible, but only looking uncomfortable. “I’m not sure. You?”

Nile looks away from him, eyes moving across the room before finally settling on a small globe sitting atop a short cabinet. Crossing the room, she grabs the globe and gently spins it. “There are so many places I’ve never been, I don’t know where to start. Or even what I’d do.” she confesses.

Booker hums, and Nile can feel him staring holes into her. She is still spinning the globe, gently tracing the borders on it when she hears the chair scrape behind her, and Booker’s footsteps approaching her. She turns when she feels the heat of a body at her back.

Booker looks at her face before looking at the globe in her hands, gently taking it from her hands. He spins it once before stopping it mid-rotation. His fingers are on Canada. “Have you ever been to Quebec?”

Quebec is not quiet how she pictured it, although based on her limited American education, she may as well have been expecting a rural French city in the middle of modern Canada. Autumn has settled over the place, painting the leaves a familiar golden yellow and red, the scent of maple nearly overwhelming. Booker drives confidently, and in this city that still feels like France, but not haunted by the ghosts of his family, Nile seems his lose a few lines of tension she had not noticed he carried. It is not the first revelation she has during her trip there.

He takes her to a beautiful and quaint two story house, parking the car in the driveway. He goes to the trunk and takes out their bags before giving Nile her’s, and goes to open the door. The neighborhood is quiet, even at 2 in the afternoon, and it is so idyllic, Nile has to pinch herself to make sure this isn’t a dream. The home, and it is a home, full of touches of Booker in the way that house in Turkey had belonged to Joe and Nicky. A home where he lived, not a safe house he used to recuperate. Wooden floors, a living room with stairs leading upstairs and a kitchen behind the stairwell. Nile paused at the doorway, admiring how with every step, Booker seemed to shed a little more of the burden and grief he perpetually carried. She was taking off her shoes when Booker found her, a tray with two glasses and a jug of water. “Make yourself comfortable Nile.”

She followed him to the couches, two white sofas which could have been made from clouds with how much she sank into them. She must have made a noise before Booker snorted a laugh and handed her a glass. “The house is yours. Give me a few minutes, I will dig up an extra set of bed sheets and blankets for the guest room, you can use that for as long as you want. My bedroom will be at the end of the hallway, and the bathroom is between the two rooms, if you want to freshen up.”

A shower after the 15 hour flight seemed divine. “I’ll shower Booker.”

Booker nodded once. “Come, I’ll show you where you can keep your stuff.”

///

For the first two weeks Booker leaves her to her own devices, giving her a couple thousand Canadian dollars and telling her to have fun but stay safe. Nile develops a routine, waking up around 8, lazing about in bed and having a late breakfast around 10 before she was out of the house. Booker did not leave as much, but he always had something prepared for dinner, or take out ordered by the time Nile returned at night, and indulged her in her telling of the sights of the city.

As far as she could tell, Booker did not leave the house, he was always awake before she was, and went to bed after her. She also noticed that he did not seem to touch alcohol in the house. Or at least not when she could see. As the days passed, and more and more leaves fell, so did Booker’s grief. When Nile returned home, and hadn’t that made her pause, when had she started seeing this as home? When she returned one night, maybe a month into their vacation, she heard a record player singing an old track she had heard before but could not place.

As she neared the kitchen from where the sound was coming, she even heard singing, and when she peered into the open kitchen, found the man crooning softly to the song, hips barely swaying.

And his face, Booker almost looked happy. She must have gasped, because he turned to her. “You are getting more silent everyday Nile. Good. It is an important skill.” Booker said as he smiled at her. And damn, what a smile. It made her grin in response. She went and sat at the bar stool he had pointed to, placing her own offering on the table.

He laughed when he saw the box.

“Tim Horton’s?”

“I had a friend in college from Toronto. She used to drag us into every donut shop and then complain none of them were as good as these. Figured I should verify her claim.” she explained.

Booker had a happy glint in his eyes.

“You have a pretty smile.” And there she went putting her foot in her mouth. She could see the glint fading the smile shrinking. “No, I just meant I don’t think I have ever seen you smile.”

God, strike her down already, what was wrong with her. “Shit.”

Booker to his credit looked sad but recovered quickly, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “No, don’t be angry Nile. You are right. I am a miserable fucker to be around.”

“Book…”

“I just, I guess being here makes things a little easier. You’re the first I’ve brought here.” he admitted, looking straight at her.

Nile felt speechless at the admission. The implications, the trust of his actions, they were almost too large to comprehend. What did you say to a man who had put up walls all around his heart to protect himself from even more pain than the pain he carried already telling you he was opening a door into his heart for her?

“Tha-”

Booker shook his head, stopping her. “I don’t need you to thank me Nile. I told you on that balcony, and I stand by my words. You are exactly what we all needed. Without Quynh, Andy was functioning just enough to keep going, not living. Nicky and Joe were wrapped up in their own grief, their fear of suffering the same fate and it maifested by holding each other even tighter. When I joined…” he sighed as he rounded the table, sitting in the stool next to her. Nile was scared to breath too hard, afraid of ruining the moment. “When I joined, I had deserted my army, I ran back to my family even though they told me it wouldn’t be a good idea, I threw myself at everything that caused me pain, and my greatest mistake was failing to realize how much they cared for me Nile. I was so busy mourning the family I had lost, I couldn’t see how much the family I gained could give me. And that is something I will regret for the rest of my days, even after these 100 years pass.”

“To be fair, I don’t think they are going to actually keep you away for the remaining 97 years anyways.” Nile said, finally finding her words.

“They should, the betrayal, some days, I can barely look at myself in the mirror. Regardless. You are smart, and brave, and kind, and you taught them the joy of living again, showed them the purpose we have. You’ve shown it to me too.”

“I didn’t even see you for most of these three years.”

“Even those two days were enough to show me why it was you. Andy was ready to quit, ready to give up on the world, and then you showed up and reminded her again.”

“I just did what needed to be done.”

Booker laughed, but it was harsh and sharp. “Oh soeur, no, you could have walked away. You did not need to go back to Copley, you did not have to come to London. You could have just left us all to Merrick. That’s what I would have done.”

And Nile couldn’t exactly say anything contrary could she.

“Look, just take my word, for what it worth, that you are special, and I am grateful to have you in our lives.” Booker said, conviction so strong in his voice Nile nodded automatically.

“I am glad I met you all too.”

Booker shot her a wry grin and patted the hand she had on the countertop once before going to the record player which had stopped. He removed the record and placed it inside it’s pouch.

“Okay, enough of this feelings talk. I have prepared Canadian Poutine and must know what you think of it.”

Nile laughed.

“Hey, do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked as he went to the stove. Nile shook her head.

“Not really. Why?”

Booker smiled. “Let me show you my library.”

“Your library?”

“My library.” Booker said, wicked smile in place.

The next day, Nile got ready as she usually did, but after breakfast, Booker guided her back upstairs and into a room opposite his bedroom she hadn’t really thought about.

She nearly swallowed her tongue when she saw the room, made fully of wood panelling, with bookshelves that ran the height and width of the wall, filled to the brim with books. Half the shelves were covered with glass panels, and the volumes behind it looked old. Booker leaned against the doorway as she explored the room.

She ducked to inspect a particular shelf filled with old looking tomes, checking with Booker before she opened the panel and slid the panel to remove one of the books. She nearly dropped it when she opened the front cover. “This- Book-”

In her hands, a faded but still legible note on the first page read

Dearest Sebastien,

I hope to see you again soon, and hear more of your adventures.

Yours sincerely,

Tolkien

“You knew Tolkien?” Nile exclaimed.

Booker chuckled. “He was a smart guy.”

He just laughed harder at Nile’s impression of a goldfish, with her wide eyes and open mouth.

“I like collecting first editions Nile.” he said in lieu of an explanation, gesturing to the shelves next to her. All of these are first editions, or as close as I could find. Several are gifts from the others too.”

“I- who, which other famous authors did you know?”

Booker grinned at her. “A few. But that is for another day. There are more books. Look around.” he said as he removed the tome from Nile’s hands, replacing it back in his collection.

Dumbfounded, Nile went back to looking at the collection. She noticed the books getting newer as she went around the room, until a familiar paperback caught her eye. Pulling it from the shelf, she couldn’t suppress her laugh.

“What?” Book asked, coming to see what she had chosen.

“Harry Potter?” Nile asked, mirth clear in her eyes.

Booker frowned before shrugging. “It was a good series. I got that book on it’s first day of sales”

For some reason, this just made her laugh harder, covering her face with the book. “Oh my god.”

“What is wrong with Harry Potter?” Booker asked, now looking slightly annoyed, arms crossed across her chest.

“Nothing is wrong with Harry Potter. I just. I remember going to our neighborhood bookstore and waiting in line when the last book went on sale, wanting to get it as soon as possible. And just. The idea that a 200-plus year old soldier from Napoleon’s army doing that same is just insane.”

Booker shot her a wide grin that just made her giggle.

“Yeah alright, that is funny.”

“Yeah it is. Let me guess, Ravenclaw?” Nile teased.

Booker raised an eyebrow at her. “Let me guess, Hufflepuff?”

Nile made a noise of protest. “Hufflepuff is a good house! It is not my fault no one ever talks about it!”

“Figures you would be a badger.”

“Hey, so long as we agree that the others are all Gryffindor and overrated, I have nothing to say against Ravenclaw.”

“Fair.” Booker said. They stared at each other for a beat. Then bent over laughing, Nile going so far as to sit on the carpet at the stupidity of the conversation. Booker was leaning against the shelves, and his own face was cracked wide open in a smile, making him look so much younger than Nile had ever seen him.

“One last question. What do you think of Snape?”

“Fuck that asshole.”

Nile laughed bright and loud as she allowed Booker to pull her up and take the book from her hand. “Good boy Book.”

Booker tutted and pulled one of her braids for it.

“Impertinent child. You need to learn to respect your elders.”

“Ow, not allowed Book.” Nile complained at the faint tug she honestly hadn’t felt at all.

“Choose a book to read Nile.”

Nile spun around the room slowly, chewing her cheek. “There are so many. I don’t know where to start.”

Booker hummed. “Do you want old or new?”

“New. I am scared if I touch those old books I’ll end up tearing them.”

“Good point.”

She ran her hand along the spines of the books in front of her before letting it drop. “You choose.”

Booker raised an eyebrow but nodded. He stepped closer to the shelves while Nile took a step back.

“Hmm.” He said as he pulled a thin book out. “Have you read this one?”

Nile took it. “Oedipus Rex?” She opened the book, and realized it wasn’t a story. “It’s a play.”

“Yes. By Sophocles himself. Are you familiar with Oedipus?”

“I’ve heard the name but don’t know the story.”

“It is a good start then.”

“What’s it about?”

At that, Booker paused in his browsing, making Nile look up. Softly, so softly she had to strain to hear he said “A story of a man who tried so hard to outrun destiny and ended up fulfilling it anyways.”

Nile stayed quiet, unsure what to reply to that.

Booker pulled out another book. “What about this one?”

“The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I saw the movie. It was good.” Nile said.

Booker glared at her. Nile smiled cheekily back at him. “The movie was good.”

“Book is even better.”

Nile conceded. “Probably. Why this one?”

Booker’s smile dimmed. “It is a story of a boy who traded his family for something he thought he wanted, and only ended up putting them all in danger because of his actions.”

Nile’s gaze softened as she laid a hand on Booker’s arm. “If I remember correctly, the boy realizes his mistake and returns to his family. And never strays from them again.”

Booker gave her an old and tired look for that. He turned back to the shelves, pulling out one more book.

And then Booker smirked. “And of course, you have to read this one.” he said as he placed a third paperback in her hand.

The title was enough to make her hit him with it, making his shake with amusement.

“Death on the Nile, hahahaha, world class comedian Booker.”

“It is a good story.” Booker said as he pulled the book away from her, grinning joyfully.

“Another time. I’ll read these first.”

Nile went and curled up on one end of the love seat Booker had at the end of the room, right below the windows. Booker moved around the room for a bit, making sure everything was in its place before coming to join her on the couch.

He pulled a book from the table beside him that Nile hadn’t noticed.

“What are you reading?”

He tilted the book so she could catch the title. “Far from the Madding Crowd?”

“I’m… fond of it.” Booker said.

“I’ll add it to my list then.” Nile said.

The pair of immortals shared another smile before settling in to read, a new found peace and understanding enveloping them.

#the old guard #the old guard fanfic #tog fanfic #tog #my fic #my writing #sebastien le livre #booker #nile freeman #nile freeman fanfic #sebastien le livre fanfic #let me know!

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