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coffeecatsandcandles · 2 years

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕- 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | billy hargrove x reader (told through Max’s perspective)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.2k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, grieving, major arguing, mention of physical abuse, angst.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

June 3, 1985

Who even is Wonder Woman anymore? I miss being her sidekick. I don’t know, recently she’s been weird about hanging out. She only wants to hang out with Billy. I get it, they’re a couple and I should respect that- but why would she make such a close bond with me and then just stop hanging out with me? We’ve grown apart. Sometimes we talk when she’s over, but we wouldn't see each other as much as we used to. I’ve tried to ignore the feelings I get when I think about it. Lucas has been helping a little, but not as much as I want. Thinking about her still makes my chest hurt and my ears ring. I don’t know why I’m getting so upset about this…

June 26, 1985

I have a new best friend now, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it. Not even Billy. El is the best friend I’ve ever had… today we went shopping together, and tonight we’re having a sleepover. Wonder Woman wouldn’t betray Candy like this. El and I are going to do all the stuff she said she would do with me, but never did.

June 29, 1985

Is it because of our age difference? She’s three years older than me- am I still a child to her? She and Billy are always doing their own thing. I get it, they’re growing up, they’re becoming adults. They've gone from spending a few hours together to spending nights. Billy’s too scared to bring her home when our parents are here, so they sneak around. He told me he'll sneak into her house in the middle of the night. He’s so annoying sometimes… I'll ask why, and he'll just laugh and say that I'll understand when I'm older. I don’t see a point. Why sneak into someone's room in the middle of the night when they'd be asleep? It sounds more creepy than romantic to me. Still, sometimes I wonder how Wonder Woman is doing. I think I’m still mad at her, but I still care about her.

It was a summer of love. Billy got a job at the local pool as a lifeguard, you started working as an intern at the Hawkins Police Station. Billy said he loved his job, while you said you wanted to do more than just answer phones and make coffee for cops in their thirties and forties who tried to hit on you. Max could tell it angered Billy, knowing that these creepy older men were preying on you and he wasn't there to protect you, but you assured him that you were fine. There were a couple people, specifically Hopper, who would shut it down whenever he heard it.

On some days, Max would spot you hanging out at the pool. You would lay in a chair by the poolside in the sunshine while Billy watched you instead of the children in the pool. The way he was all over you made Max want to barf. You would also voice your opinion about the older women who constantly hit on Billy while he was working. "He's not even nineteen yet... Some of their kids are older than that. It's just gross." you’d say and roll your eyes. Max would laugh, knowing you really had nothing to be worried about. She’d seen the way Billy had grown since meeting you. He used to think about girls nonstop. Now all he could think about was you.

After a day at the mall with El, Max came home to find your car in her family’s driveway. Her parents were gone, out of town for some vacation away from their kids that they didn't bother to tell them about until the day before they left.

Max prepared herself to walk in on you and Billy displaying your affection in the most annoying ways possible, listing scenarios in her head. You could be blasting music and dancing in the kitchen while cooking, pretending to watch a movie while you kissed on the couch, or maybe you’d just be in his room like you were most of the time. Either way, she at least figured you’d be staying for dinner. She opened the door and heard both of your voices in Billy's room, only you weren’t fawning all over each other like you normally were.

No, this time you were closer to yelling at each other. It shocked Max, for some reason I didn't think you were capable of yelling.

"I was just asking if you had any plans for fall- whether it’s college, another job, I don’t care. You know I just want what's best for you." you said. Max could hear you trying to restrain your voice from quivering.

“I don't want to go to college. Is that not good enough of an answer for you?"

"Then what are you gonna do with your life? You can't just be a lifeguard forever. I just would feel better knowing you had a plan."

"Why? So you could control it?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you have high standards. You have this vision of what you want our life to be and I just feel like you'd be better off with me being the exact opposite of myself."

Both of you sounded heated. Billy had this anger in his voice Max had never heard before. He used to yell at her, but it was all show. His anger here seemed genuine, like he was lost or he was really hurt. He clearly didn't want to be fighting with you, but he'd also had it with all the questions about what he was going to do with his life since he’d graduated high school. He had gotten it from every single adult he knew, and he couldn't take it anymore. Not from you. Not from the one person he felt like he was safe from judgement from.

Max made her way into her bedroom, hoping it would drown both of you out. But she could still hear you as if all three of you were standing in the same room.

"I don't even know what I want, I haven't thought that far ahead." Billy argued.

"Then we'll figure it out together!"

"No, I know exactly what you want. You want me to have some boring job or be someone that is stuck in this town forever because being with someone like me isn't good enough for you and it never has been."

"I have never said that- "

"You didn't have to. I see the way you try to change me. You've changed everything about me since we got together!"

"So what? You want to end up some sort of deadbeat? I'm helping you." you had this harshness to your voice. Max could tell you weren't holding back any tears anymore. What did you look like when you cried? Max felt herself start to tear up. It felt too much like the fights her mom and dad would have, right before they got divorced.

"I don't need your help!" Billy yelled. Then it got quiet. Max heard mumbling, a few softer words.

As much as being around you and Billy grossed her out, she didn't want you to break up. You were perfect together. There were a few faults, but you weren't trying to fix him. You were urging him to be the best version of himself. At the same time, she understood why Billy was upset too. You were supposed to accept him for who he was, but instead it seemed like you were trying to make him into the person you wanted him to be. You made him study, you made him be nicer to people. He ate better, smoked less, and took better care of himself. These weren't bad things, but they were different for him. Maybe it was overwhelming. He was too arrogant, and you were too controlling.

Why was Max crying now? It hit too close to home. She’d drown out the sound of her parents fighting by listening to music while she did her homework. She’d sneak out of the house to skateboard around the neighborhood when they still lived in California. What they were arguing about didn't matter to her, it was pointless.

She knew Billy had a similar childhood. He didn't talk about it, but she knew he'd been subjected to listening to his parents fight. And if his father acted with his ex-wife like he did with Billy, then he wouldn't have been afraid to hit her a few times. He never hit Max’s mom, at least as far as she knew. From what Max knew, Billy was pretty young when it happened. Young enough to not fully understand what happened, but old enough to remember how life just drastically changed.

Max heard a door open, and some footsteps walking past her door and towards the front door. Then she heard a car start and tires moving across the gravel. You were gone. She wiped up her tears and made her way to the front of the house, hoping to catch Billy. He was still there, watching you back out of the driveway and onto the road from the window. Was now the time to be nosy?

"What was that all about?" she asked him.

He turned, making his way back to his room, "I'm not in the mood to talk about it, okay?"

"Did you two break up?"

He stopped at his door and shook his head, making eye contact with me, "No, we're just... in a rough place right now." He went into his bedroom, and a few seconds later, started blaring heavy rock music.

Max hadn't heard that coming from his room in months.

July 4, 1985

I think Billy is going to apologize after that huge fight… he told me something about wanting to buy flowers after work. I hope they make up. If they do, I hope she comes back to be my Wonder Woman again. Until then, I’ll just stick to my weekly comic book reads with El. I guess I can have two best friends at once.

It was late at night; Max was sitting in the living room reading a comic while her mom and Billy's father were preparing their lunches for work the next day. Billy had work, and then Max assumed he had gone over to spend the night at your house. He hadn't come home yet, but nobody was worried about it. Their parents seemed like him being away for the night was a relief. Max was just about to head to bed when there was a knock at the front door. "I got it," she told her mom.

On the other side of the door was Hopper, and two other police officers. She’d seen them before around town. One had curly brown hair with a mustache and thin-rimmed glasses. Fairly young. The other was much older, with a graying stubble and dark skin. They were the good guys, according to the work stories you told her when you first got hired at Hawkins PD. You told her the younger cop had raised his voice at one of his colleagues for making a pass at you. Apparently one cop commented on how nice your legs looked, and he yelled back, "Why don't you go tell that to your wife instead of her... One move and she could rip your paystub in half.". His nametag read "Callahan". And the older cop apparently had two grown daughters of his own, so he wasn't too fond of his colleagues hitting on a younger girl. It made him think about what he would've done if they had said those things to one of his girls. His nametag read "Powell".

And then there was Hopper.

Broad-shouldered, tall, intimidating. Max wasn't scared of him anymore now that she was best friends with El, but if she were anyone else, she’d be terrified of him. He got tense when he saw Max, almost worried. "This... is the Hargrove residence?" he asked, unsure of himself.

Neil made his way to the front door, taking the reins, "It is," he responded, "what seems to be the problem, Sheriff?"

Max looked over at her mom, whose face was pale. Back in California, Billy would be escorted home by police for trespassing, vandalism, all kinds of things. It didn't faze his father, and Max didn't really think about it too much. But for her mom, it was terrifying. She'd always been scared of authority figures. She was the type to fumble her fingers and distract herself if she had to walk past a police car. Even mall security, she'd avoid them at all costs.

"It's your son," Hopper said, making eye contact with Max, "There's been an accident."

"Don’t tell me he was trespassing again," Billy's father sighed, "you know what? I'll pick him up at the station, do whatever I need to do, and I can assure you this won't happen again- "

Hopper stopped him, clearly distraught, "He was in a car accident near the high school," Max felt her heart drop to her stomach, "there was a drunk driver at an intersection and he crashed into your son as he was driving. The car flipped, and..." Hopper squeezed his eyes shut, like he was forcing out the facts, "he was killed on impact and dead upon arrival. I'm sorry." Hopper took another look at me. Here he was, telling his daughter's best friend the worst news of her life.

Max’s mom gasped. Billy's dad looked lost. Billy was gone. He was just gone.

Max was stuck, unable to emote. Her mom was crying on the drive to the scene. Billy's dad said nothing. He didn't want Max to go with them, but she wanted to see it. She wouldn't believe he was gone until she saw his car. A part of her hoped they'd gotten it wrong. That it was another boy.

Although, there weren't any other blue Camaros in Hawkins.

Billy was probably on his way home from work, a commute he took all the time. Or he was on his way to apologize to you for fighting. What if he was trying to bring you flowers? Was he thinking about you when it happened? So many thoughts were racing through Max’s mind that she felt like she was being screamed at. The car was completely silent, other than a couple of sobs from her mother. But all Max could hear were her loud, intruding thoughts and questions. Had you heard about what happened yet?

They were about a mile away from Hawkins High School when they saw the Camaro. It was true, it was all true.

"Stay in here," Neil said to Max. Staying still was the last thing she wanted to do now. Once her parents exited the car, Max grabbed her skateboard from the backseat and ran out of the car. She heard everyone calling after her as she hopped onto her board, but she ignored them.

Max skated until she couldn't anymore, then she started running. She ran on the road, not caring if there were cars coming. Tears started flowing down her face and the more she ran the less she could breathe. She couldn't see where she was running, but she didn't need to. She knew exactly where she was going.

The familiar neighborhood finally appeared, and Max stopped for a half second before turning into it. She kept running until she saw the one-story house she’d been to every morning before school. Wonder Woman. Princess Diana. She needed you more than anything right now.

She pounded on the front door, huffing and coughing, her lungs begging for air. You answered the door, frightened by my bright red face and panting.

"Max? What are you doing here?"

Her lungs felt dry, and getting a word out was nearly impossible. She could see your living room from the front door. You were watching a movie with your family.

"What's wrong?"

Max tried to get a word out, but screeched instead. She started sobbing even harder. She couldn't breathe, and she was crying too much to even open her eyes.

"Max, it's okay," you said, wrapping your arms around her, "you're just having a panic attack. Just focus on your breathing." she didn't want you to let go of her. Your hugs felt like she was being wrapped in a silk blanket. She felt safe. You put a hand on her face, looking directly into my eyes. You told her to match your breathing, and to catch her breath if she could. The two of you spent a minute just breathing. You made it easier, but you also clearly didn't know that Billy was dead. "Do you want to tell me what's going on? And did you skate here from your house?"

Max shook her head, "No, I ran from the school."

You gave her a concerned look, "Honey, that's why you're out of breath. Why'd you run? And why were you at the school this late?"

"Billy's dead." Her voice was so low and so hoarse she was worried you didn't hear her and she’d have to say it again. Now that she had said it, it definitely didn't feel real, "His car flipped." Whatever light was present in your face quickly faded away. Tears instantly started to well up in your eyes Max could tell you were experiencing the same numb, doubting feeling that she was feeling when Hopper was at her front door. You rested your head on her shoulder and started crying, then screaming, all muffled by her t-shirt.

She’d never seen you like this. You were broken. She couldn't even imagine what you were thinking. As both of you cried together, the thought of your fight with Billy came to her. She knew you’d seen each other since, but you barely talked. Neither one of you had apologized as far as she knew, but they both figured you’d still be seeing each other every other day and eventually you’d make up. But you didn't get to apologize or hear Billy's apology. She knew Billy could never hate you or resent you, so he wasn't mad at you for the fight. Max wanted to tell you that, but words were escaping her. As her parents pulled into your family’s driveway, you started to pull away from your embrace but refused to let go of Max’s hand. Your face was stained with tears and you were still sobbing.

Billy's dad pulled Max away from you and dragged her back to the car. He went back to you and said a few words. From the look on your face, Max could tell he wasn't offering his condolences. He was mad. She wished she knew what he said to you.

It's heartbreaking, witnessing the worst day of someone's life. You don't know what to say, you don't know how to offer help, but your silence just makes everything worse. As Max and her family pulled out of your family’s driveway, she locked eyes with you from the window. You were still sitting on the porch. As you watched them drive away, Max saw you erupt into tears once again.

@her-secret-library @thescarlettvvitch @charmed-asylum @vulture-withafile

#billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 3 #stranger things imagine #max mayfield #dacre montgomery #sadie sink

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frogtanii · 4 years

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hq boys as the crimes they’d commit

warnings: CRIMES, crackfic, probably many typos idk i’m so tired lmaooo, cursing, drinking ??? idfk 😩💦

an: and i did this for what?? inspired by hq hcs royalty @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock (AJSKSJ SORRY FOR TAGGING Y’ALL IF YOU SEE THIS, IT IS DEF NOT UP TO PAR W Y’ALLS WORKS ILY)

karasuno

sawamura daichi- insurance fraud!! somehow this is such a dad crime to commit?? dadchi didn’t try (dumb excuse, how do you accidentally commit insurance fraud smh) to commit insurance fraud but at one point in his late-thirties, he was very very broke and was already working as much as possible so, he decided to fake an ankle injury, as you do, and filed a bunch of claims which made him bank. daichi kept doing it until he was able to quit one of his jobs and buy himself a really nice suit and a rolex (uhhh 🥵). he somehow never got caught tho and to this day, none of his friends know how he was able to afford a tesla on a cop’s salary (sorry daichi but acab 😔✨)

sugawara kōshi- child abandonment!! ok you can try and fight me on this but i feel in my bones that suga absolutely despises children. he can tolerate ages 10+ but anything younger than that, he will punt them into the next dimension. the thing is, people just assume he likes kids because of how good he is with his team which is why his aunt begged him to babysit his nephew taro. taro was being an absolute brat when suga took him out for the day and he was 👉👈 this close to snapping. he put taro down for like 3 seconds to pay for their ice cream and when he turned back, the demon spawn was gone. he panicked, running around the park looking for taro when it turns out, taro was just bent down behind the bench. some random karen called the police and suga has never craved murder more.

nishinoya yuu- arson!! you CANNOT tell me nishinoya doesn’t have a ~murder~ playlist that he listens to to get himself hype (me too noya, me too). one night, he got a lil too hype listening to start a riot by duckwrth and watching demolition videos on youtube. he snuck out of his house to an empty shed like 30 minutes away and maybe... lit it on fire while genocide by lil darkie played on a speaker nearby. what he did NOT anticipate was the absolute size of the fire so he freaked out and called the firefighters who promptly called the police. he didn’t want to get grounded so he called daichi to bail him out. daichi still told noya’s parents 😔.

tanaka ryūnosuke- vandalism!! tanaka had been on alt tiktok and saw a group of cool friends spray painting an abandoned building. he thought “that’s cool, lemme do that!” but then he realized he had no friends (AHDGS JK I LOVE TANAKA). he asked nishinoya who was grounded from the arson incident and he knew he definitely couldn’t ask daichi, suga, asahi, or enoshita so he decided to go it alone. that proved to be a MASSIVE mistake. he got the supplies, arrived to the building of his choice (thanks saeko :3), and decided to spray paint a huge p3ni5 in bright red paint. he finished “successfully” and zoomed back home. what he didn’t realize with his two-and-a-half braincells is that he signed his glorious piece with his full name. the cops were at his house the next morning...🧍

hinata shoyō- forgery!! hinata did NOT think that forgery was even a crime. how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to copy his mom’s signature on a permission form! all he wanted was to go to an overnight training camp 😿

kageyama tobio- attempted murder!! kageyama swears it sounds worse than was and he is absolutely incorrect. what happened was so much worse. he and hinata were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater (you can’t tell me they haven’t done some dumbass shit like this) and kageyma lost almost instantly (he has the tiny lungs of an asthmatic). he didn’t want hinata to notice so he held hinata’s head under the water for like 10 seconds. suga walked in though, saw hinata thrashing around in the water and immediately called the police. kageyama never forgave him.

tsukishima kei- cyberbullying!! first of all, i had no idea you could get arrested for cyber bullying!? that being said, neither did tsukishima who spent 80% of his time making fun of people online (and on his real account!! bold). eventually one of the people he bullied (hinata) reported him on instagram and his very lame account was deleted (pls don’t bully people online 😤).

yamaguchi tadashi- shoplifting!! andjksh this is so funny because this scenario has happened to me and i can just SEE this happening to poor tadashi. yamaguchi gets super late night cravings (and usually tsukki will walk with him at like 3 am 🥺 nEWAYS) so he’ll sneak out and walk to the mini-mart near his house. one night, he was so tired but also super hungry so he went onto his nightly routine and basically sleepwalked into the store. he picked out his favorite chips and candy bar (which are sour cream&onion lays and milky ways in case you were wondering 😌✨) and just... walked out the store without paying. the store clerk was mysteriously missing so yamaguchi made it all the way home, ate half the bag of chips and passed out without realizing what he’d done. once he did, he cried for 2 hours straight.

nekoma

kuroo tetsurō- telemarketing fraud!! kuroo originally did telemarketing fraud as a joke?? like he was trying to prank call someone pretending that they had lost their information and they actually gave it to him??? he was mildly concerned but even more excited. he did it over and over again but he never used the info for anything. to this day, kuroo literally has a notebook full of credit card numbers and bank account passwords but he refuses to use it because he believes it’s ✨wrong✨(but it isn’t wrong to take all that information in the first place under false pretenses, not realizing that once people find out, they are forced to close credit cards and accounts but go off self righteous king). once he brought the book up to kenma and he offered to sell it on the dark web. now kuroo feels less bad about what he’s done! :D

kozume kenma- computer crime!! pfttt this one seems kinda obvious but what do you expect from kenma :). he spends so much time on the internet, he’s definitely picked up some less than legal skills that still help him now 👀. kenma did little mini crimes like getting into other people’s wifi but his crowning achievement was when he hacked into the minneapolis pd website and had it so when you opened the page, a black lives matter screen came up. he never told anyone that it was him who did it but he thinks it’s the best he’s ever done.

yaku morisuke- racketeering!! yaku, the feral king, ran an underground gambling ring in the basement of nekoma (do they have basements?? who knows! i don’t!) during his third year. the only reason it didn’t get shut down was because coach nekomata took a portion of yaku’s profits whenever he won (which was literally all the time). everyone on the team has lost money to him which is why they never play with him anymore. they won’t even let yaku play monopoly 😔.

haiba lev- indecent exposure!! poor lev’s head is so empty, he tends to fall for whatever pranks his senpai’s do to him. this time kuroo had somehow convinced him that in order to grow his schlong, he had to run outside naked for 10 minutes because the moonlight had special growing properties. lev was a lil scared ngl because he was already superrr tall and didn’t need to grow his height (or his dick ((boy is hung)) but poor lev is insecure) but he did it anyway. long story short, an old woman saw him parading around the neighborhood naked and called el policia. 0/10 dick did NOT grow and had to spend a night in jail naked 😿

aoba johsai

oikawa tōru- prostitution!! KAKKAKA iwazumi made fun of oikawa for being so shitty and said that he couldn’t pick up anyone if he tried. flattykawa took this as a personal challenge and went out onto the street, asking people if they’d have sex with him. with the way he was asking (and the way he was dressed), people assumed he was a paid w h o r e and someone eventually reported him. iwazumi had to pick oikawa up from the station- he never let him live this one down.

iwaizumi hajime- battery!! it wasn’t technically battery but oikawa is a lil bitch and overreacts (at least in his words -_-). the amount of times iwa-chan has beat the absolute shit out of oikawa is uNREAL. he just can’t handle the stupidity sometimes so he just smacks the crap outta him. not for real for real but the way oikawa reacts, you’d think a murder was occurring. one time, shittykawa screeched so loud, they got a noise complaint -_- hajime hates it in these streets.

matsukawa issei & hanamaki takahiro- conspiracy!! issei and hiro have a secret blog where they discuss conspiracy theories and such but one day, hiro found an article that explained how jfk’s death was an inside job. he sent it to issei who began to theorize how HE’D do it. that devolved into a massive thread on their blog of how’d they murder a president which blew up and caught the attention of the cia who sent the a letter telling them to quietly delete the blog. they did because they were terrified but they kept the letter and now it’s framed in issei’s apartment.

kyōtani kentarō- assault!! baby is an angry little boy but for all the right reasons. he was at a bar (when he’s all grown up, duh) and he spotted an absolute drunk creep hitting on a girl who clearlyyyy did not reciprocate his feelings. kyōtani, being the respectful king that he is, went over to the guy, pulled him by the jacket and beat. the. shit. out of him. while the bartender was happy with the fact that the creep was out, he was not impressed with the damage to his bar. he just sent kyōtani out who casually adjusted his leather jacket and rings, and hopped on his motorcycle to ride away into the night. i am the FATTEST simp for this man ONG 🥴

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi- stalking!! poor ushijima has no idea how intimidating he can be. he was on a train late at night after practice and the woman sitting across from him left her purse sitting on the seat. being the gentleman that he is, he took the purse and followed her to return it. the only problem is that the closer he got, the faster she ran and when he tried to speak (yknow with his scary, deep, baritone voice), the woman screeched and called the cops on him because he was a “strange, big man who was following her home.” when the police showed up, ushijima was painfully confused and just held up this tiny ass purse in his massive hands. the cops laughed.

tendō satori- ???!! no one knows what crimes (or how many 😳) tendō has committed but each of his teammates have different ideas- ushijima: “i don’t believe tendou is capable of committing any sort of felony. well, maybe murder”; semi: “of COURSE he’s capable of crimes??! do you know how many times i’ve seen him come into the dorm with a suspicious stain of red on his sweater?? *shudders* if i end up dead, tendō did it...” in actuality, the only crime tendō has committed is ~drugs~ but he’s not bouta tell his friends that.

goshiki tsutomu- would be a VICTIM!! my baby tsutomu would NEVER commit a crime!!! i love this man with my everything and the only crime he’s committed is being too damn cute 😤🥺

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littlefreya · 4 years

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The Way to Hell - Part 9

MANY Thanks to @raspberrydreamclouds who designed this cover as a gift! ☝

Summary: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Ethan Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man alive. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped, unaware of the trained assassin who is sent to bring him down.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Lacey)

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: Dark themes, smut, fluff and angst. Unprotected sex, hints of stalking, violence, swearing, sexual mentions, slight gore, choking, death.

A/N: Okay, this chapter is long, it was hard to write, you guys may never speak to me again after this. So I’ll just post it now, and turn off my phone and hide beneath the blanket with excessive anxiety. Thanks @agniavateira for editing my work and being my muse.💖

As always, comments and feedback are more than welcome 💖💕

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Title: Lacey

~*~

Have you paid the ferryman?

~*~

The cool light of fluorescent doesn’t do the honeyed gold of her hair justice.

Doe eyes meet him, a striking green. Pure, like freshly-cut grass on a spring morning. The navy-coloured suit she wears counters the sunny shade of her slightly curly hair. She sports mid-length tassels, cut neatly just above her shoulders. She looks like she had it done this morning by the looks of it .

“Hartmann, Lacey.”

Sitting at his desk with a pen pressed to his lips, the CIA agent observes her while ignoring the small hand in front of him. A tall, fit man in his late 20’s, face clean-shaven, hair like pure chocolate, combed neatly to the side but for a large rogue curl that falls on his brow. He collects it between his fingers and attempts to tuck it back in place.

“I don’t do partners, sweetcheeks.” he retorts after a short glance and turns away from the young agent, returning to his computer to browse a file he was just reading before she interrupted him.

An amused sigh passes through her plump lips as she shakes her head with sheer disbelief. “Do you have it any more cliche than that?”

“I might, depending how long you are going to loom over there, princess.” August shoots back and slightly adjusts the tie around his shirt collar, not bothering to face the young woman again. It’s obvious what this is: a muzzler, or rather a babysitter in the form of a really good-looking girl.

He fights the temptation to take another gander at the way her hair frames the apples of her rosy cheeks.

“But since you’re already here, how about you fulfil your purpose in life and get me a cup of coffee? Double espresso, no sugar.”

August shoots her a look, observing her immediate reaction. Lacey’s green eyes widen, her mouth slightly opens. She rubs her knuckle between the soft pads of her fingers while thinking of what could be a suitable response to his disrespectful request.

I guess Erica didn’t bother prepping her.

Sloane, the heartless lioness. She leered at him with that sour look on her face since the day he stepped into the building. He swears the woman must have slices of lemons hidden in her panties. There is not even a drop of respect in those dark eyes whenever he sits in her office. Nor does she harbour any trust in his performance on the field.

It all just worsened thanks to Ukraine.

The explosion in the old Soviet power plant killed dozens of innocent lives at the cost of one. Though that man was responsible for the death of thousands, if not more.

If you want to tear down a building, you better use a fucking hammer.

That cunt should thank him and promote him.

“Nothing but daddy’s boy.” That’s what she sees in him. He might as well be another dead CIA agent like his father, then. Erased from memory, his great achievements discredited. At least he doesn’t have a family to throw to the dogs so they can rip them to shreds.

Oh Sloane, if only you knew half of the shit that goes beneath that stuck-up nose of yours.

Releasing another deep sigh, Lacey slumps to the seat in front of him, crossing her long legs together and leaning back in her chair while grabbing the folder on her desk. Her lips clamp together tightly, trying to hide the saltiness on her face. Long lashes curtain her eyes which pretend to read through the file. August rolls his eyes with annoyance, trying to ignore her existence and continue working his way through a case he’s been reading before she interrupted him.

Yet every now and then his storm-touched eyes peer at the naive-looking woman, observing her and trying to determine how long will she last.

~*~

Is this hell?

~*~

That dusting of freckles on her nose and the fresh shimmer in her eyes give out much softness, yet she is anything but weak. Lacey Hartmann is a shield-maiden of some sort. For 2 months she withstood August’s “boot camp,” meaning she appeared unaffected by his cold demeanour.

At times there is even a hint of a smile hiding beneath that peach shade lipstick when August challenges her with an obscene dark joke. A hint of amusement tints the green of her irises, but she never dares to admit it.

Too coy, almost chaste, yet iron-willed.

August finds her behaviour borderline masochistic as he continues to prize her with nothing but arctic affection. Even so, she always listens when he speaks, her eyes open with pure intent, a fertile green field in her glance.

Something spikes at the marrow of his bones, intrigue or so. Trivial thoughts find themselves latching into the tunnels of his complicated mind. His CIA brain begins to note her morning routine. A glacial stare registers the vanilla latte she drinks almost religiously every morning at 9, with two teaspoons of sugar. Lacey has a sweet tooth, it seems. She never misses dessert at the cantine and he once caught her bending the rules and sneaking candies back from their previous mission at eastern Europe.

He also noticed how when she is nervous, she twirls a finger in her hair with agitation and chews her plump lips.

Blue is another point of interest. The colour seems to be dominant in her attire and accessories for some cryptic reason, though. not obsessively. She wears black or grey but then ties a silk scarf the shade of the sky around her delicate throat. When she is having a bad hair day, it’s the red pencil suit that draws attention to her body instead. The combination is horrifying when she sits in front of him holding her favourite mug which is glittery cerulean.

He begins to wonder about her life outside of the headquarters. Her file rested in his apartment for weeks yet only recently he found himself bored enough to peek inside and read about her personal life. No husband is listed under her marital state, yet he wonders if a woman as attractive as Lacey has a man waiting for her at home. Someone kind, he imagines, and pitiful. She looks like a woman lacking a strong man in her life.

“Are you going to finish that?”

August’s brows furrow as she cuts into his adventurous trails of thought. His glassy eyes pierce at her as she sits in front of him at the cantine, sharing a lunch table. He hardly speaks during lunch anyway, and only listens to her musings with the usual sulk on his face.

Lacey appears slightly frightened when she sees his menacing expression, yet her fright melts into a soft blush and a coy grin, in an attempt to pacify him. He nudges the plate with a slice of chocolate cake in her direction.

“No, go ahead.” he watches as she digs her fork into it with excitement, her eyes shutting with near orgasmic pleasure as the chocolate melts on her tongue.

His mind continues to wander, offering him possible imaginary visions of her personal life while she mumbles something in the background about the cake being outrageous.

Her home address would be in that file too.

It’s nothing but idle curiosity, after all.

~*~

You don’t believe in hell.

~*~

It’s been over 6 months of enduring her by his side. August imagined she’d run off crying to Sloane 2 days after being forced into this partnership, but she keeps a vow of secrecy, even when he bends a guideline or two during missions or violates nearly every HR policy. At first, she would warn him about his behaviour, but now she just calls it “The Walker Way”.

It almost feels like he has a partner in crime.

They arrived in Sicily a night ago, their mission is to locate and capture a millionaire-turned-terrorist and bring him in for questioning. It’s a high profile target, which means the CIA spared no expense providing them with the finest hotel suites and fancy attire to attend a gallery opening. An informant suggested the suspect might be doing his bidding at the same mansion.

Lacey meets August at the hotel’s main parking lot, wearing a cornflower blue mermaid-cut gown. Threads of silver adorn the outlines of her cleavage and little pieces of sparkling glitter draw his attention to her bust. He doesn’t attempt to hide the way his eyes fixate on her breasts. Beaming at the pale pink fat of her bosom before his gaze finally wanders to meet her face, giving her his regular cocky stance.

Is she wearing a bra underneath?

“You look handsome,” Lacey compliments, swallowing a complaint about the obvious way he objectified her. “We look as if we’ve matched colours.” The royal blue three-piece suit brings out the ocean in his eyes and she allows herself to dwell in the calm water as she glances back, offering him a smile.

Stoic, he ignores her praises, studying her face quietly. The shade on her lips is not the usual one; it’s darker, making her look more vamping. He doesn’t like it, her natural appearance is sweet and supple, and this colour clashes with her complexion and the concept of her in his mind.

The unnerving silence between them greatly challenges her. The need to crack the autumn evening air with some sort of dialogue pans in her chest.

“Are you…” Lacey begins speaking when her eyes squint at the region of his mouth. “...growing a moustache?” Bold fingers reach up, ghosting over his upper lip where a few days’ stubble seems to grow longer than the rest on his jaw. August cocks his eyebrow as the tips of her fingers almost touch his mouth. She notices his disapproval and pulls her hand away apologetically.

“For the mission, I thought it might make me look older.”

An amused smile cracks on her face, her cheeks rounding up to perfect blushing circles. “The real Mrs. Walker would be mortified.”

August scoffs, rolling his eyes at the notion before turning away to watch the cars that pass by. His hand rests on his chest, straightening the vest underneath his suit and stretches the muscles of his back. A timid-blowing zephyr caresses his face; his Adam apple rises and drops dryly in his throat.

“Is there a…”

“Oh c’mon, Hartmann! You know the answer to the question, don’t act stupid and play small talk with me, it’s not your style.”

Lacey’s lips press shut together, her green eyes dropping to the floor. She knows the only Mrs. Walker is his mother, and Madeleine has been gone for a couple of years now. Everything is in his file, allowing her to learn about the “mundane life” August Walker leads, or at least the ones he allows her to see through her CIA spectacles.

It was an obligation to do the same with her. His old man once told him to learn who he’s dealing with before opening his “goddamn mouth.” That’s all there is to it, and his curiosity if he has to admit it.

Lacey Hartmann lives alone with her cat, Sir Podrick, on Hampshire St 457 on flat number 45. A magazine two-room apartment, picture-perfect, tidy to the point of OCD. She has an older sister but they rarely see each other. On her free weekends, she loves to watch romantic comedies while drinking hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.

He often wonders if her sweet tooth is compensating for something missing in her life. Yet there is never a man in her apartment.

Sometimes she dances in front of the window, especially after a hard day at the office. He can’t tell which music is playing in her headphones, but the way she moves her body makes him believe it’s something upbeat and cheerful.

The images of her bedroom window vanish as a slightly irritating thought peaks in his mind at her comment. Mrs. Walker. A hiss of violent air shoots from his nostrils.

Relationships were not something he cared to pursue. Life had other offerings.

Besides, the women he liked were too tender and he was too rough. So, his conquests never lasted more than a night.

Agitated, he pulls his sleeve to look at his Rolex, muttering something obscene under his breath which makes Lacey shift uncomfortably on her feet. The driver should have arrived by now. Every car that parks at the pebbled road bears disappointment, dropping off more honeymooners and rich, older married couples.

A soft smile breaks on Lacey’s painted lips while she stares at August who’s facing the driveway with his fists clenched at the sides of his body.

“Well, since we’re stuck here waiting for a ride, you better entertain me.” Lacey speaks with grace, not a hint of nervousness or fright in her voice. She learnt how to deal with August and his tantrums by now.

August remains silent, his sight never breaking from the driveway and the alley of palm trees that pave the path.

“Or I guess we can stare at the big full moon,” she says to herself, lifting her eyes to the clear sky.

August stares back at the golden-haired woman, her long lashes fluttering gently as she counts the stars in her mind. A naive glint sparks her eyes as she’s captivated by her own fascination. The pale blue of the moon reflects on her milky skin, making her look like a siren in her beautiful dress.

“Yeah, it’s lovely,” he says in his deep voice.

*~*

And even if it existed, hell wouldn’t have you.

*~*

The expo is held at a royal mansion of some sort. A large Sicilian palace that is owned by an ageing millionaire. Golden floral embellishments spread across the azure velvet walls, shimmering at the lights of the crystal chandeliers which dangle in the halls.

Various ancient trinkets are placed in glass cubes. Crudely-made bows and arrows that were carved from cheap wood by a half-brain neanderthal are offered for the price of 200,000,000 Euros.

Ridiculous.

Keen on finding their target, both August and Lacey decide to split up upon their arrival, planning their strategy ahead by protocol. August is the striking image of professionalism tonight, stretching his gaze around the large hallway. He has been this way for the last several missions, working by the book, making sure to perform as clean as possible, whatever that means in CIA terms.

He even managed to win a word of praise from Sloane, who still can’t stand the very sight of his face. But at least she ceased from eating his head at the conclusion of every mission.

And Lacey seems to appreciate it, too.

The brooding man spends the night pretending to be enthralled by the exhibition and its boring guests who continually attempt to strike pointless conversations with him. As part of his task, he only speaks with those who seem to be an asset and brushes others away by answering in fluent Italian, pretending to not understand a word in English while smiling at them politely.

Blending in, the young agent stands by one of the bars, leaning onto the marble counter and enjoying some type of strawberries-in-cream dessert which was offered to him by a tall, abnormally attractive waitress who’s been walking around with a silver tray.

Lacey would love this fruit-pudding thingy, he muses as his fingers brush through the mid-length stubble above his lip. His eyes carefully scan the room for any group of men in their late 30s for a clue or a sign.

The sound of a woman’s laughter chips away his attention like a siren’s call.

So that’s how she sounds like when she laughs.

Grabbing a glass of champagne, he steps forward on the black carpeted floor, following the cheerful voice as it rolls delightfully in his ears. Storm clouds gather in his eyes. The siren is behaving unprofessionally to the point of being offensive. A tall glass of half-empty Lambrusco hangs between her slender fingers while her head falls back; her hand rests on her chest, trying to contain her laughter.

She is the centre of attention to a group of famished men.

August frowns with disapproval. She’s supposed to act drunk, not get buzzed. Standing at the large pathway, he watches how she smiles widely, mouth gaping, small dimples peeking at the corner of her lips. The honey of her hair makes her stand out in a room of dark beauties, the shade of her dress an anchor for any travelling eyes.

He takes an irritated sip from his champagne, swallowing the sparkly liquid, trying to ignore the bells of laughter which begin to sound like an insult, meant to provoke him. His piercing eyes search for the target in the room, focusing on the task on hand and being the professional his father urged him to be.

Yet as if magnetized, his glare returns to her.

For a moment there he nearly forgets that she is a CIA agent. The men around her flirt nearly barbarically, their mouths salivating with predatory hunger. Is she too pure to understand their intentions? The vultures are waiting to tear her limb by limb. Possibly hoping she will be drunk enough to be dragged by one of them.

The storm inside him rages. Thoughts of her being tainted by one of these hideous men enter his mind and poison bubbles in his throat, drowning him in anger.

He puts his champagne flute on the tray of one of the hostesses who passes by. He fixes his tie over his neck and swallows hard. His strides are confident and charismatic as he marches into their circle abruptly, reaching an arm over to Lacey.

“Sweetheart, here you are. Come see this piece, you’re going to love it.” hee speaks with contained anger, his baritone loud and clear, roaring through his puffed chest and squared shoulders.

Lacey turns to smile at him as he latches his fingers around her forearm, rescuing her by pulling her away from the predators with as much elegance he can muster at his current aggravated mood.

“Are you fucking drunk, Hartmann? What’s wrong with you?! We have a dangerous man to catch.” He whispers angry and low in her ear, carrying her toward an open terrace where they can discuss and re-strategize the mission.

The cool breeze caresses their faces, tenderly running through their hair as they approach the open air. The young woman continues to giggle as August’s fingers tickle beneath her armpit while he takes her to stand next to the large renaissance modules that hide them from the guests of the event. He lets go of her forearm, looking down at her with a scowl.

“Relax, I was trying to make it look convincing with these decadent, empty idiots.” she attempts to pacify him, looking up into his eyes, her head reaching just beneath his square chin.

“Isn’t it ridiculous?”

“What is?”

“The way they sell these artefacts on such a high price when it was created by a primitive creature who ate his own fleas,” she mocks with a mischievous smile. “This is the end of human culture, this capitalistic point of view.”

A cold shiver crawls at August’s spine as he hears her speaking of his ideals. He had never seen her this way before.

So opinionated, so bold.

Has she been reading my mind?

They have never been this physically close, he can smell the lupines on her skin and the Lambrusco on her breath. Lacey’s amused grin begins to relax somewhat, her eyes now staring at something with stark fascination.

“You have a brown spot in one of your eyes.”

August brow furrows even deeper, dark lines forming between his thick eyebrows as the woman ogles him in a bizarre way. His blood thickens as the pleasant wind brushes at his face.

“Sectoral heterochromia, I was born with it.”

“It’s beautiful,” she answers with an enchanted glare, batting her lashes and moving further to study the shape of his flaw. Her feet arch to the tip of her toes, reaching higher to his face. August remains still, watching as if within a haze when her lips crash onto his.

Chills spiral through his nerves, his eyes wide open as her soft lips press into his in a long, chaste kiss. There is a small hum in her voice, painted lashes look like black curved trails as her eyes shut with an enchantment. For a second he can feel her body press into his, her breasts grinding at his broad chest. She slowly detaches from him, opening her eyes and falling flat on her feet.

Alarm spills onto her face, her hand covering her mouth with guilt as panic surges. August stares back without a sign of emotion on his arctic face.

“I’m so sorry!” She calls out in utter embarrassment, moving away from him by a step.

His breath grows rigid, his mind a war. In an instant, he pulls her wrist away from her face and claims her into his grasp, kissing her earnestly, even violently. Lacey’s moans melt into his mouth, her body crashing into his, writhing as her lips gape, accepting his insidious tongue.

She tastes like sugar.

August slams her against the wall, growling as her hands roam down his body and messing his outfit. A fervent stir tingles at his groin and the way she squeezes the muscles of his behind and tries to shove her hands under his trousers does nothing to relax his racing heart. Depraved, his hand pushes between her legs, trying to cup her heat through the tight dress, yet it cages her legs too tightly.

“I want you out of this fucking dress.” August growls, breaking the passionate kiss to breath hot and heavy in her ear.

“Then take me back to the hotel.” she retorts breathlessly, grinding her pelvis into the growing hardness in his groin.

“We can’t, the mission.”

Lacey emits a frustrated huff, sounding as if she’s meaning to beg as her body constantly pushes into his in a snakelike dance. “Forget about him, he’s not here, we’ll do it the Walker way.”

There is nothing in this world strong enough to convince him otherwise as those big doe eyes peer at him with admiration and a sense of need he never received from any woman before. It wasn’t like the women who begged him to fuck them as he tormented and delayed their release.

For the first time in his life, he felt purely wanted.

~*~

The ride back to the hotel is the most dreadful experience he had to endure in his life. Both Lacey and he sit at each side of the car, avoiding eye contact whilst their organs throb with aching need. She keeps her fingers laced together while the driver listens to some old Italian love song and sings along the tunes on the radio. August attempts to avoid drowning into his thoughts but the idea of having her tonight makes the blood pool hot in his loins.

They hardly make it into her room. Exploiting every moment left in solitude to make out like horny teenagers. Whenever a hotel staff member or a guest passes by, they break away from one another in the most obvious manner.

As they finally arrive at the suite, August kicks the door shut with his foot and preys at her, his talons reaching for her face, his thumb wiping off whatever remains of her lipstick before kissing her again.

“I don’t like this, it isn’t you.” he states in between invigorated kisses while Lacey battles to take off his clothes, pushing the blazer off his shoulders and then working the buttons of his vest and shirt with lust guiding her fingers. She ignores his remark, answering with another breathless kiss instead while moving to fumble with his belt.

Their feet kick at one another as August leads them toward the king-size bed, fondling the curves of her body through the terrible prison that is her dress. His long legs nearly lose their balance as she successfully unzips his trousers and finds him fully erect and pulsating in her small hand.

Logic turns to steam at the manipulation of her hands. His gasps resonate through the length of his throat, giving in to the whispers of his heart. How long yearned for her, wanting to keep her in the birdcage of his vision.

Lacey, so bold yet so sweet.

With the swiftness of his hands, he turns her around, tugging at the zipper of her dress while dotting her collarbone with possessive nibbles. Her naked figure unveils to him as a flower opens to the sunlight of spring.

Left in nothing but her baby-blue lace underwear, she steps out of her dress and moves to face the large naked man, pacing back as he sneaks toward her like a direwolf. The look on her face is admirable. Drenched of fear and desire at once, feeding his natural dominance.

“August…” she whispers his name. Her lips quiver at the sight of his broad form, appreciating every sinew, every muscle. August reaches to hold his cock as the blood stirs into it with rage, wanting to be inside this angel, to taint her and mark every piece of skin.

“I don’t have a condom.” he warns, licking his lips as she slides her underwear down her long, creamy legs. Her mound is completely waxed, just the way he wants it. Pure.

“I’m clean and protected.”

Inviting him into her mysteries, Lacey offers him a devoted stare and reaches her delicate hand toward him. No clarity is left in his mind; desire clouds every rational thought, every self-preservation instinct. He ignores her hand and lunges at her like a predator.

They fall into a sea of silken sheets together, August covering her body with his, giving no care of how his weight crushes her. His hands hold her wrists pinned to the mattress as he pushes her smooth thighs apart with his knees.

Lacey’s moans are mesmerizing as he sinks himself into her wonders. Singing her pleasure at him like a true siren. An overwhelmed groan breaks from his own lips as the wetness of her flesh encloses around his cock, sucking him from within with an embrace of lust. Soft and delicate, she writhes against his crude, rugged body and he thrusts inside her with teetering grunts, taking her with sheer, primal dominance.

She feels different, like no other woman he ever had before. Completely submissive to his darkest desires. Her body opens to him, like a precious, heavenly nymph and he takes what he wants. Deeper and deeper, drowning into her womb, never wanting to stop, invigorated by the way her hands clutch at his body with the same desperation that is in his chest.

For three days, they never leave the suite. Lost in a carnal euphoria that makes both of them forget the existence of the outer world.

~*~

Oh, hell indeed exists, it’s on the earth you walked your entire life.

~*~

The delicious aroma of crispy, caramelized bacon and fluffy pancakes tickles his senses to wake up. Salty and sweet, the scent draws him to sit upon the bed that’s slightly too small for his wide frame. A drowsy smirk crawls onto his face. This scent is his second favourite thing to wake up to.

Locating his cobalt trunks on the floor, he hauls himself out of her bed, pulls them on and tries to tame the messy bundle of curls on his head while he walks to find her in the kitchen. The bacon sizzles on the pan as Lacey stands next to the stove in his buttoned-up shirt. She is flipping an impossible quantity of pancakes and frying strips of bacon in another pan.

Her rounded ass peeks at him with every shift her body makes.

August sneaks behind her with the skill of a CIA agent, looming closer and wrapping his arms around her torso, his chin resting on the top of her head, while his hungry eyes feast on the pancakes and amber bacon.

Lacey flinches in his grip, he can feel her heart jump for a moment before she relaxes into his embrace, lips melting into a wide smirk as August rocks her from side to side.

“Morning,” she hums delightfully. “Go sit, there is freshly brewed coffee waiting for you.”

August drops a kiss on the top of her head, a low growl of serenity climbing up his throat. “You’re a dream, princess.”

And you’re all mine.

With a wisp of unwillingness, he detaches from her and walks to the table, where Lacey’s favourite mug of coffee awaits him with steam rising from within. His eyes are a calm sea sparkling at the sunrise as he looks at her with admiration.

Everything about her tips him across the edges of sanity; the way she smiles at his horrible dark jokes, the way she listens to everything he says with devotion and appeal, the way she speaks about her ideals and sees him like no person ever did before.

Lacey turns her head and sneaks a small glance at him, giving a smile and a wink before returning to the stove.

It took 5 months to admit to himself that he likes this, that he enjoyed being here, with her and her stupid cat, or in every distant location in the world. It didn’t matter if they were in Afghanistan or Paris, as long as he got to listen to her breathing in her slumber. That night in Sicily wasn’t just mindless sex. It was a union of two souls. They spent the night talking and while he was reluctant to open up-as he still is-he was stunned to find out just how much this woman shared similar points of views.

Though she never says it specifically, Lacey wants to watch the world burn.

He hasn't even told her about his idea, not yet. It’s probably too soon anyway as he only started formulating his intention a couple of months ago. A part of him still fears how she may react if she finds out he’s been selling CIA secrets and dealing weapons right beneath Sloane’s nose.

“I hope you’re hungry,”

Lacey calls out as she places two large plates of pancakes and bacon on the table and walks quickly to get the maple syrup from the counter. Sir Podrick jumps on the table as she puts the syrup next to the plates. Aggravated, August shoos the cat away and reaches to grab the woman's forearm, forcing her into his lap possessively.

“You know I am, princess.” he murmurs as he kisses her shoulder and then her lips, before grabbing a piece of pancake and some bacon with his fork and nibbling it deliciously. Lacey remains on his lap, grabbing a stripe of bacon from his plate and chewing on it with a pleasant moan before directing her gaze to August.

“How long do you think we can keep this a secret?” she asks, slight concern appearing on her face. August swallows the remaining pancake in his mouth and sips some coffee to clear his throat. His fingers thread through the gold of her hair, combing the large waves repeatedly.

“I don’t want them to take you away from me.”

His voice is nearly that of a child.

The agency’s protocol won’t allow partners to be in a relationship due to an incredible conflict of interest. “Sloane would lose her shit if she’d find out this entire time we’ve been doing this.” He chuckles dryly and shoves another piece of pancake into his mouth while still looking at Lacey. The first morning rays shine through the wide-open window, basking her face with a shimmering summer glow.

“We can run away,” she teases. “Buy a yacht, tell Erica to go fuck herself and sail the sea.”

August smirks, his hand descending to the small of her back as images of embarking to the great unknown with her fill his chest with euphoric bliss.

A daydream, perhaps in the future, after mankind is free.

“I think she’s beginning to warm up to me though.”

“Well, she did start calling you The Hammer after the last mission.” Lacey answers and grabs the mug from August’s side, stealing a mischievous sip. “If only they knew it has a different meaning to some of us.”

August crooks his eyebrow up at Lacey and wipes his moustache clean. His hands reach to tickle the sides of her belly, causing her to let go of the mug before he snatches it back. Her giggles make his heart feel at ease, something he’ll never dare to tell or show her.

Asserting his dominance by only giving as much.

“Why did you join the agency in the first place? You never told me.” she wraps her arms around his shoulders, the green of her eyes appearing yellow at the ray of sunlight that beams on her face.

His gaze falls upon the table, staring at the remnants of the pancakes while licking his teeth. Thoughts of his past begin to echo in the chasm of his mind.

The day his mom fell to her knees and let out a banshee-like howl of agony at the empty ceiling as two agents came into their house.

He was 13, and from that moment on, he was all alone in a cold, ravenous world.

“I wanted to die for the government, just like my father.” he spits out, thinking of how his life turned over one autumn morning. A tall, lanky boy who couldn’t even comfort his mother as she tore off tufts of her hair.

August didn’t even cry, not since then.

The curious look on Lacey’s face fades into sadness, compassion welling on her now golden-green irises. “You never told me how he died.”

A muscle twitches in his cheek, his eyebrows knitting together as anger begins to slightly boil his blood. “Like all heroes, forgotten. I don’t know how, it was during a mission in Moscow. Nothing in his files but a mention on an accident, no details other than that.”

“Is that why you have such small faith in the government?” Lacey asks innocently, referring to their pillow-talk. The ones they have while she presses her soft cheek to his chest and draws invisible circles onto his chest.

The lump in his throat dries as he remembers the weeks that followed after his father was gone. They were thrown to the dogs to be gnawed at. No compensation, no financial support, and no one to comfort young August.

His mother couldn’t even look at him anymore. Those blue soulful eyes, the cleft of his chin, and even the shape of his nose were inherited from his father.

The most pain August has ever endured was when someone he loved was unable to look at him anymore.

Madeleine was a loyal housewife from the midwest who never took a real job. Arthur provided for them. While he wasn’t the warmest father, he kept his family close, taking them with him on his trips, unless they were too dangerous.

By the time August was seven, he’s already been to all continents.

After his father’s death, both the money and his mother withered away. Having no experience in anything but waiting tables, Madeleine couldn't support her own child and perhaps she didn’t want to. The boy was a painful memory of what she lost.

The last he remembers of her, she dragged him with her to church and went on her knees as August sat on the bench. She prayed and cried out to God until her knees bled and her eyes rimmed red from the tears she wept.

But God never answered.

That week, social services arrived at their door. He never saw her since that day and needless to say, no one wanted a hostile 13-year-old boy.

August turns his face to stare at Lacey, examining her round, freckled face and her plump, pink lips. They make her look like a renaissance painting of an angel. At times, he’s afraid that his rage will tarnish her, swallow the light of her spirit. Yet he can never hold back, fucking her so roughly, she hurts for days. His instincts drive him to spill all his fury into her cavities. To offer all the spite and hurt that poisoned his soul, as if it will cleanse him.

And for a few seconds, he is sanctified. Coming inside her makes him feel complete in every sense of the word.

The soft purring of Lacey’s cat grounds him to reality. The chubby ginger cat rubs around his leg affectionately, his yellow diamond eyes staring at August.

“Let’s not talk about it, anymore,” he replies in a somewhat final tone.

Lacey nods at him, giving him a look full of understanding. Her fingers reach behind his ear, stroking the soft chocolate curls and tucking them back. “Okay, Aug. But we really need to talk about that!”

Her fingers move to point at his thick moustache, her eyes narrowing with disdain.

August strokes his moustache with his thumb and index finger and lets them slide down the stubble of his square chin. “You don’t like it?”

Lacey shakes her head with protest, trying her best to appear irritated. “No.”

Princess is so cute when she pretends to be angry.

August offers her a smug smirk in return, grabbing the last remaining piece of bacon from his plate and sliding it whole into his mouth. “Too bad, it stays.” he answers with his mouth full, grease smearing on the corners of his lips. “It makes me look dangerous and you love it.”

“No, you look like pornstar.”

“I’d fuck you like one.” he answers with a dark glint in his eyes. In a sudden movement, he places both hands on Lacey’s waist and stands up with her in his grip. The woman squeals with surprise as he flings her over his shoulder with little to no effort and stings her ass with a sharp slap.

“Do you want it here, sweetheart, or in the bedroom?” he asks and bites the fat of her behind. Lacey cries out in pain, her legs kicking the air.

He loves to hear her laugh, just as much as he loves to hear her scream.

*~*

If hell is on earth, then what does it make you?

*~*

Like a creature dwelling in the darkness, he sits in the bleak hours of the night, fingers stroking the keys as if he’s a composer, conducting his symphony of destruction. The flesh of his lips chafe at the lack of sleep and insufficient fluids, yet he gives no care.

This will be his legacy, his gift to the world, his gift to her.

The pale teal light of the screen flickers lightly on his weary corneas. It’s nothing but pixels, black on white, five blocks of paragraphs for now, but the raw power in words proceeds beyond any other weapon known to mankind. So pure, so cataclysmic.

Just like an atomic reaction.

She will see through his eyes soon. The potential, the greater good. All her words of breaking the system, about dreaming of a better world. A sweet, naive girl with a mind fed with agenda. It was as if they were threaded into one another’s life, destined to be.

The paving of a new world has already begun. They call themselves the apostles, a group of no more than 12 people, men and women of science and power. Their identities are unknown among one another. It matters very little, the seeds have been sown into the earth. Small acts of terror, biological and chemical incidents around selected locations around the globe, just enough to test the waters.

Greatness from small beginnings.

It will take time, yet he is patient, and his little angel of destruction will be by his side once the time is right. All mankind will be reunited in peace after the earth will shudder beneath their feet.

~*~

Does it make you a monster?

~*~

Something sharp prods his mind to wake up. A nightmare, whispering toxic words in the darkness. He hears a vague ruffle in the webbed darkness of the night and he blindly reaches his palm to stroke her and finds himself abandoned. There is a knot in his gut and a storm brewing in his mind. Carefully and silently, he reaches for the loaded gun in his nightstand and slips out of bed.

Pale blue and humming, a soft light invites him to follow to the office next to his bedroom. His heart drums heavily in his chest, his face falling as his vision becomes clear. Bright pink winks through the molten mixture of shadow and light. She hovers over his open computer, spreading files and paper plans over the surface of his desk, all the while holding her digital camera, violating his secrets.

Whatever is in his chest shrieks and bleeds with misery.

“Would be more efficient if you’d switch the light on.”

The woman jumps as she hears his voice and a heavy flood of bright light showers her crimes as August flicks the switch on. She straightens up, as stiff as a frozen tree. Unable to face him right away, her face remains hidden from him. August can see the spasm of her legs beneath her nightdress.

“What are you doing?” August asks, his voice low and menacing, eyes travelling from the Nikon camera that hangs from her hand to his secret scribbles as they lay on his desk, right next to his open manifest.

“Look at me.” he demands, stern and composed as he can.

Lacey turns slowly to peer at him, her lips aquiver, eyes shining with guilt. The only sound from her is the shudder of her breath that rushes through her heaving chest.

The hurt must have blinded his thoughts. He doesn’t remember aiming his gun at her head, it’s only when he sees the woman’s surrendering gesture does he register his actions.

Taking a deep breath, he lowers his gun and places it carefully on the floor. His hands splay in the air, disarmed, offering a truce as he stretches to stand straight.

“Was I…” he swallows the dryness in his throat and licks his lips.

It would take a real fool to be so blind to see what was in front of him the whole time.

“I was your mission?”

Lacey remains quiet, her eyes refusing to meet his. Tears glide down the apples of her rosy cheeks.

“Tell me the truth Lacey, please. I just want to understand.” The threat in his voice turns soft, becoming nearly a plea as he takes one step forward, watching the woman flinch and step back, her behind colliding with the desk.

The woman weeping in front of him is a trained CIA agent, yet the despair in her eyes shows no signs of panning struggle. The only way out of this room is through him, a man who is nearly twice her size and knows her every move.

“Erica suspected you’re the one who is leaking secrets, so she sent me…”

That’s why she inquired so much, wanted to hear his thoughts, to sleep at his home despite his reluctance. He agreed for the first time tonight, unaware of her insidious intentions.

Did you really think you deserve this?

August scoffs, his heart clenching painfully in his battered lungs.

He was wrong. There is something more painful than having someone you love never look back at you.

“Did she tell you to sleep with me?”

Lacey’s gaze drops to the floor in silence; her answer is nothing but a pathetic sniffle as she pinches her nose.

Bile rises in his throat as he sees shame on her face, so obvious, so obscene. Her purity was false.

There was nothing sweet or innocent about her, she was nothing but a whore.

“Answer me!!!” he rumbles, more beast than man.

Lacey jumps and sobs with panic, nodding her head at him with her confession. “Ye..Yes… any means possible.”

Running his palm through his face and groaning with frustration, the young CIA agent exhales hoarsely. He takes another small step towards her, gradually closing the distance between them, watching his shadow loom on her porcelain skin.

Lacey’s eyes widen with panic. Her ankles kick back the wooden legs of the desk, her hands scattering August’s belongings. White sheets of paper fly down to the floor, ink smudged by tears.

“Stay away,” she warns.

“Does she know? Did you tell her or anyone else at the agency?” he ignores her pathetic threats, taking another step closer. Her floral scent fills his nostrils, nearly triggering his instinct to claim her lips. His gaze softens with an ocean of mercy as she shakes in front of him so violently, breaking into tears of grief.

Delicate fingers cup her jaw, sliding across the slick moistness of her tears as he tilts her chin up. “Please, tell me the truth.”

Lacey lifts her gaze to meet his, her eyes puffy and red, her plump lips swollen. She wipes her nose with the back of her palm. “I had nothing to report, until now.”

His grasp tightens around her chin, forcing her head back to look at the text flickering on the monitor. “All this talk about a better world, I thought this is what you wanted.”

She snaps her head back to glare at him, eyes narrowing with disgust and anxiety. “You thought I’d like this?! This is sick!”

August’s nostrils flare yet he gives a gentle nod of understanding and hushes her sudden surge of stress. His hand caresses her round, damp face. The thick pads of his thumbs wipe the salty tears away from her skin and his body presses into hers.

Even a tremoring mess, she is still so soft and warm.

“Did you ever love me?”

His lips are merely an inch from her temples as he whispers. His large hand slides down her cheek, stroking down her jaw and descending further below her chin.

Unable to muster another lie, she remains silent, aware of the fact that the sand in the hourglass has all but diminished, along with her chances of survival.

Words are unnecessary. The truth speaks loudly in her eyes, the poisonous infidelity was always there all along. Struck by her angelic beauty he was too blind to see, leeching onto false heaven, a childish fantasy of love that never existed.

Small spots of blood begin to form in her wide-open eyes as his long fingers lock around her thin neck, squeezing with intensifying force. Tighter, harder. His name remains caged in her throat as she fights for the air she thinks she deserves.

“No, you didn’t.” August whispers, his vision beginning to blur. “You never did.”

Strangled yips of pain wheeze through her mouth. Struggling frantically while August hardly even bats an eyelid, staring at her with no emotion on his face. Desperate arms reach out to both heaven and hell, her body squirms and her eyes plead for August to let go.

Begging for her life.

Something breaks inside her throat. Her last breath follows, a short gasp, frozen in her body for eternity as both her heart and her eyes become still.

August glances at her pale skin, her gaping lips stained violet, her bloodied eyes glassy, returning his broken reflection.

Sorrowful tears roll down the lines of his face as his heart pumps with pain black as tar. A loud gasp of agony rips from him, shuddering across his entire existence as the very base of his soul chars in his chest. Broken, he falls to his knees with Lacey cradled in his arms, his hand stroking her dull hair and her blue cheeks while husky cries of anguish come through his throat.

All emotions end. An empty abyss claims the spot where his soul once laid. The only thing left to him now is pure, undistilled hatred.

~*~

I am the one who reigns in hell.

~*~

Black cold liquid seeps into weary lungs. Skeletal hands caress his face unkindly, the thin bones, so hard and frozen as they travel down his grey cheeks. No grace is given to him, no redemption. This was nothing but a dream of a life.

As tar oozes from his throat, her voice continues to call for him.

His last memories are of Erica, sitting on her throne of lies, swallowing his accusations while peering at him through her dark eyes. Face filled with guilt, oh, she didn't have a clue. Everyone believed Lacey Hartmann was the double agent this entire time. Angelic eyes hiding dark secrets. He planted the evidence in her house, in her computer, sparing his manifest of course. Just enough to tarnish her name forever.

A painful wheeze splits his throat. Iron tinged his tongue.

The promotion was won right after the body was cremated. A fine medal given for having his life put at risk.

Glory and fame won over the woman you loved.

I never loved her. She was a lying whore, she betrayed me.

But you did love me, August.

Blood spills through his mouth as he coughs. His blue eyes shoot open, peering at a great hole in the ceiling and the dust that floats calmly in the chill air of night. The pain sears his shoulder, throbbing furiously to remind him there is still blood running through his veins. He grunts as he clutches at the gaping wound, trying to hold onto the blood that still remains in his wretched heart.

Run and hide, little Ingvild

I am no one but Lucifer himself.

I will have my vengeance.

__________________________________________________

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible franchise or August Walker

#August Walker #Henry Cavill #The Way to Hell #August Walker Fanfiction #Mission Impossible Fallout #Henry cavill Fanfiction #August Walker x OFC #henry cavill x ofc #Mission Impossible Fanfiction

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kayr0ss · 4 years

Text

So... Is It Her First Day? (Diakko)

[LWA, Fluff, a lot of Fluff, Established Relationship, Pls Help Diana, slight Hamanda]

Summary: Diana found herself sneaking out of Luna Nova past curfew to visit a convenience store. Why was she even here?

Oh right. Her girlfriend was cranky, on her period, and driving her absolutely insane.

Diana stood at the hallway, unsure of how to process the fact that Akko had just very gently ushered her out of the Red Team's dormitory, shoving her textbooks into her arms while she told her, quote, “not to come anywhere near me with homework within the next twenty-four hours, Diana, I swear to Beatrix—”

Then silence. Because Akko closed the door.

At her face.

Diana blinked towards the heavy slab of wood that stood between herself and Akko. What could she have possibly done wrong?

“Cavendish.”

She whipped her head towards her left. To her surprise, enlightenment on the situation was about to come from Sucy of all people.

“You do not want to go in there right now,” she grabbed Diana by the sleeve.

“Surely there’s no need to drag me across the hallway—”

“Yes, there is.” The purple-haired witch spoke with the authority of experience. “It’s Akko’s first day and that is a shitstorm if I ever saw one.”

“First… day?” Diana had an idea what the other witch meant, but it paid to be thorough.

“Of her period.” Sucy glared back. “Don’t you have those? Also, you live with two other women in the dorm.”

“I just wanted to be sure.” Diana said in a clipped voice before pulling her sleeve free of Sucy’s grip and matching her pace down the hallway. “And what might you suggest I do?”

“Why would you have to do anything? Just leave her alo—” Then Sucy paused, smirking. “Right. I almost forgot. You’re her girlfriend now.”

It still made her blush whenever she explicitly remembered it, although she would have preferred not to look so flustered in front of Sucy.

Akko was her girlfriend for all of fourteen days by now.

The newest development in their relationship was something of a serendipitous moment. A pleasant surprise, so to speak—even if it seemed the two of them were the only ones surprised at the news. Were we that dense? Diana frowned, recalling how Hannah and Barbara sighed in relief rather than shock when she told them.

“Food.” Sucy had blurted out.

Diana looked at her inquisitively, and then she realized the pair of them were on the way to the… kitchens?

“Food is our go-to.” The other woman supplied. “Lotte will already be at the kitchens. Doesn’t fix her shitty mood completely, but it helps.”

“That’s… quite thoughtful of you, Sucy.”

The purple-haired witch shot her a massive eyeroll. “Don’t give me that look. Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass Akko is when she’s like that? It’s exasperating.”

---

All it took was one crate labeled ‘exotic ingredients’ for Sucy to lose track of the purpose of their kitchen visit.

“Diana’s her girlfriend.” Sucy had told Lotte, already trailing the goblins due to deliver the ingredients to the potions lab, “I’m out—this is her job now as far as I’m concerned.”

Lotte smiled apologetically, scratching at the back of her head while she opened the door into the kitchens and inviting Diana to come inside.

“This is really sweet of you,” the bespectacled woman said.

Suddenly she felt self-conscious, growing hot under the collar. Beatrix. How long was it going to take before the mere thought that she and Akko were dating would stop making her blush?

But at the same time—it made her smile. Lotte had always been observant, so the way she knowingly smiled back could only mean she knew what she was smiling oh-so-softly about. She briefly wondered if the butterflies in her stomach were glaringly obvious as well.

Diana’s eyes widened in surprise when she stepped through the door.

The kitchens were much bigger than she imagined. The walls were thick, aged stone, with pillars that shot up into the high ceiling, connected by arches for support. It looked a bit like a smithy with all the stone, smoke, and fire—but she realized that it wasn’t sweltering at all. There were metal air vents that ran above the kitchen, looking out-of-place but keeping the area well-ventilated with modern technology. And the aromas! She was hit by a delectable sensory over-load that made her (already fluttering) stomach grumble.

“Heya, Lotte!”

A friendly-looking goblin with a lopsided smile trudged towards them, landing a heavy slap on Lotte’s shoulder (“Ouch!”).

“Barry!” Lotte whined, rubbing at where he had greeted her.

“Sorry!” Barry scratched his head. He had bushy brows and fangs that stuck out of his lower lip, and yet despite it all he managed to look so… friendly. Perhaps the apron had something to do with it? “We just get excited when you guys visit.” Large eyes flitted towards Diana and then widened in recognition.

“Hello.” She cleared her throat, unused to being scrutinized. “I’m Diana Caven—”

“Hey guys!” Barry had called over his shoulder, grinning. “It’s Comrade Akko’s girlfriend!”

Comrade?

She looked back towards the staff who were busy with work, several of them turning towards her and waving. There were even some cheers. But they quickly fell back to cooking, which made sense—dinner time was coming soon. Oh. Perhaps now was not the best time to be bothering them with the concerns of a teenager who hadn’t the slightest inkling how to woo a cranky significant other.

“So we finally get to meet’cha!” Two burly troll hands settled heavily on her shoulder. “Why didn’t you guys bring her in sooner, Lotte?”

“You know how it goes,” Lotte chuckled mirthfully, still rubbing the sore spot on her shoulder. “School gets busy!”

“Good thing you’ve got us to keep those rumblin’ bellies full, amirite Jean?”

Coming up from behind him was another troll (Jean, she supposed?). He was a bit taller and leaner, with an expression that reminded her of snobbish pastry chefs she’s met when vacationing abroad. Except, troll-like.

“I can’t believe Comrade Akko had chosen a member of the oppressive bourgeoise for a fling!”

Diana blanched along with Lotte. Bourgeoise? That she could forgive. But—a fling?

“We’re very much in a serious relationship.” Diana found herself seizing up the taller troll, cheeks flushing in indignation at the thought that they were just a fling.

“C’mon, buddy. If she’s okay in Lotte and Comrade Akko’s book, then she’s good with the kitchen trolls!” Barry smiled brightly.

“Speaking of Akko,” Lotte interjected. “It’s that time of the month.”

Barry and Jean were struck with urgency and realization.

“First day?” Jean said quickly, brushing his manicured moustache.

“Yup.”

“Alright. Follow me, ladies.”

---

“I’m quite sure this is against regulation.” Diana set her hand on Lotte’s shoulder, allowing magic to soothe the inevitable bruising that would have come from Barry’s slap.

“Don’t let the trolls hear you say that!” Lotte said quietly. “They love her. Oh, but thanks for healing that—it’s… not like any of the magic they do at the infirmary.”

“It’s a Cavendish skill.”

Her mother had taught it to her at a very young age—to soothe a toothache here, or a pulled muscle there.

They were in a small separated room connected to the kitchens which might have been used to house treasure back when Luna Nova was a proper medieval castle. These days it was used more or less similarly, except the ‘treasure’ was a collection of candied applies, tarts, an impressive meat selection, and various types of bread.

“So this is where she goes whenever she sneaks out for snacks past curfew. I can’t believe the trolls condone this.”

“It’s Akko.” Lotte deadpanned.

She was right. This was entirely unsurprising—something to do with having fought for fair labor practices, she supposed.

“You know,” the other woman started, looking over a selection of sweets which Akko might like. “I’m really glad you two are finally together!”

Diana smiled in appreciation, looking down towards several baguettes while a light dusting of pink fell on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“It’s really cute! And took no small amount of Akko going crazy about her feelings for you for months on end.”

“She did?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Lotte seemed to shudder at the memory. “It drove us crazy too.”

Diana blinked, feeling the odd need to apologize. “Well she does have the tendency to vent her frustrations in a more… outward manner.”

“Yeah,” Lotte giggled. “Screaming into pillows, banging her head into the wall while wailing about your “perfect freaking hair”, and don’t even get me started about that whole week she dedicated to practicing her grand monologue of professing her feelings to you!”

“Oh, she told me about that.”

“It was a disaster wasn’t it?”

“She tripped on her words.” Diana fondly recalled. “And then—”

“—said ‘I fucking like you!’.” Lotte completed, apparently having heard the story from the source itself. She groaned at her usage of such an expletive.

Then they sputtered into quiet, friendly laughter.

Diana never got to spend much time with Lotte, much less alone, but she was one of Akko’s closest friends and she had no plans of denying how enjoyable their conversation had been thus far.

“I feel like I should get to you know more, both you and Sucy.” The blonde said with a little bit of shyness.

“You sure about Sucy?” Lotte grinned.

Diana laughed mirthfully, “Akko said the Red Team was inseparable—take it or leave it.”

“Glad to see our friend is in good hands, then!”

“I…” she began slowly, “Plan to do this—being together, that is—as best as I possibly can.” Diana admitted, sighing wistfully. “I’ll take all the good and the bad that comes with her.”

She blinked up at the other woman, conscious of the lack of response to her sudden admission. Lotte was… swooning with what looked like hearts in her eyes?

“Oh my god!” She squealed. “That’s so romantic!”

---

Half an hour later, Diana was once again in front of the Red Team’s dormitory. Her hand flexed nervously around the handle of a food basket and she rolled her eyes at herself. Why was she nervous? All she was doing was giving Akko food!

She raised her hand confidently to rap at the door—

—and then pulled it back, running her fingers through her hair in frustration.

“By Jennifer,” she muttered to herself in annoyance. “How hard should it be to knock on someone’s door?”

But then said door opened, and red eyes were blinking at her.

“Diana?” Akko murmured. “I heard shuffling from the outside, I wanted to check it out but didn’t expect it was you.”

She looked disheveled, with her hair all over the place and her pajamas askew. She was holding a bag of warm compress and Diana felt worry shoot up at the thought that something was ailing her enough to skip dinner.

“Akko,” she started, stepping forward to lay her hand on her arm. “Is everything alright?”

“Nope,” the brunette wailed, stepping forward and dropping her head on Diana’s shoulder. “My uterus wants to kill me and this weather is making it worse! But I’m sorry about earlier.” She mumbled into her sleeve. “I didn’t mean to be so pushy. I got super stressed thinking about taking that Runes exam tomorrow while feeling this way—just seeing your books wanted to make me cry!” She rambled on. “Oh—what’s that?”

She pulled away, staring at the basket in Diana’s hand.

“I’ve brought you dinner.” Diana said softly, pleased that Akko was feeling better and even more so at how she sparkled at the thought of ‘food.’ This girl could be so simple, it made the blonde smile.

“Mou—I don’t deserve you!” She wailed, eagerly opening the cloth wrap in the basket right there at the doorway.

And then Akko groaned. She looked like she was going to cry. Why did she look like she was going to cry? Beatrix, help me. Diana swallowed.

“I’m so tired of potatoes!” Akko threw her hands upwards, lip trembling. “Does this school not order anything else?”

She stomped back to her bed, grumbling about starch and rice and ‘Okaa-san’s stew!’ before face-planting into the pillows.

Diana stood cluelessly at the doorway. Should she come on in or… just give her space?

But then Akko suddenly sprang back upward, running towards Diana before taking a fistful of her collar, pulling her in and—

Kissing her.

Very deeply.

She had never been so pleasantly confused in her life.

“I’m so sorry!” Akko pouted. “That was so ungrateful of me. Thank you! I’m starving!” She grabbed the basket. “I hate it when I’m like this—Kami-sama—I’ll be better tomorrow, I promise. You don’t have to deal with this and I’ll make it up to you okay? And-I-love-you!”

“I—I love you t—”

And then the door was back.

At her face.

For the second time today.

Was it acceptable to scream in the hallways at dinner time?

---

Feeling desperate and increasingly frustrated after dinner, she walked towards the Green Team’s dormitory, seeking the advice of someone she never wanted to ask: the only other witch in their group who had a girlfriend and experience with this matter.

Amanda.

Hannah wasn’t nearly as temperamental as Akko during that time of the month, but she wasn’t easy to get along with either. To her credit, it seemed the American witch was actually managing it quite well.

“Diana Cavendish.” Amanda smirked once she opened the door. “In the flesh. How can we help you?”

She flushed despite herself and gave a soft nod towards Jasminka and Constanze who waived at her from inside.

“I would like to seek your opinion on a matter.”

Amanda actually looked surprised. “Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“Akko is…” Diana gestured aimlessly, trying to find the right words. “On her period.”

“Oh.”

Why was O’Neill looking at her that way? “Well?”

“So you’re having trouble dealing with the… ya know?”

“I don’t.” Diana pursed her lips. She was so tired at this point. “I don’t know.”

“No fucking way.” Amanda gawked. “I can’t believe you’re asking me about this.”

“What is it that’s so hard to believe about me wanting to be a good partner?” Diana fumed, her patience wearing thing. Wasn’t that what she was supposed to do? Make Akko feel better when in a foul mood?

Amanda whistled. “I mean… can’t you deal with it on your own?”

“On my own?”

“Yeah!” Amanda nodded enthusiastically. “The urge, I meant. Even I don’t push Hannah when it’s her red season. We just wait it out. Being intimate can get really messy when there’s bloo—”

She slammed the door shut so hard it might have hit Amanda’s nose.

---

Her attempt to learn more from the Green Team was a spectacularly embarrassing failure, and so Diana resigned herself to leaving Akko with space and shutting herself in her dorm.

“Trouble in paradise?” Hannah piped in, noticing the forlorn expression on her usually impassive face. “And why are you looking at me like that?”

Forget about what Amanda said, forget about what Amanda said.

“You could say that.” Diana admitted, not in the mood to hide anything. They were her best friends anyway.

Barbara watched with interested as Diana walked over to her desk and seated herself, catching her head in her hands with a sigh.

“So what happened?” The raven-haired witch leaned forward.

“Akko’s in a mood.” The blonde replied in a muffled voice. “I can’t make heads-or-tails of what to do about it.”

“Is she jealous?” Hannah guessed.

Diana shook her head.

“Injured?”

She shook her head again.

“On her period?”

“First day.” Diana confirmed.

It was met with a synchronized “Ooooh.”

“She hexed Amanda one time she bugged her on her period right?”

“Yeah.” Hannah tried not to snicker. “Burned her skirt. Never knew Akko could pull that spell off.”

Diana rubbed at her temples. “Why is that everyone else seems to know about her apparently infamous temperament and I don’t?”

“Because,” Barbara started, “she made it a point to steer clear of you so she doesn’t snap up or, and I quote “burden you”. And some people really do have it worse than others. My cousin had cramps so bad she would have to miss classes sometimes. I think Akko’s got something similar.”

Diana vaguely recalled days when Akko seemed more reserved than usual. She also had her fair share of spending the day at the infirmary every few months.

“She told you this?”

“Lotte did.” She said off-handedly. “Night-fall convention.”

“You talk about Akko and me during a—”

“We’re romantics!” She said defensively. “And we were right about you two. But anyway, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ve been trying to do something about it. I brought her food.”

“And?”

“She’s tired of potatoes.”

Hannah sighed. “We all are. Even you—don’t deny it! I see the face you make whenever it’s potatoes for dinner again.”

She made a face?

“She’s probably craving for comfort food.” Hannah hummed to herself. “Tough luck, Japan is half-way across the world.

“Oh.” Barbara perked up, glancing over to Hannah. “What about that place Amanda sneaks out to get you snacks from?”

Hannah glanced warily over to Diana, who was raising her eyebrow in question. “Oh, fine. Don’t tell on her okay? She’s just trying to be sweet.”

“I won’t.” Diana sighed. “But I’m not Amanda. I’m not going to sneak out into the town past curfew just to buy Akko snacks.”

---

She was sneaking out into the town past curfew just to buy Akko snacks.

Beatrix, she mulled over to herself, pulling up the collar of the her capelet coat. What has become of me?

It was a warm night, unsurprising given the sizzling afternoon sun they suffered through earlier that day. She’d have to thank Professor Ursula for giving her a pass. Glastonbury, while still a bit of an ‘old town’, was beginning to modernize with the advent of the new magical age. More students enrolling at Luna Nova meant more business for the nearby towns, and the influx of children from non-magical families brought with it a union of old tradition and contemporary establishments.

One of which was the ‘Convenience Store.’ As per Hannah’s explanation, this type of establishment was open all hours through the day and night, and typically sold snacks and refreshments to address one’s cravings.

Unfortunately, said Convenience Store was a fifteen-minute broom ride away from school, and she hated having to sneak about. Not very convenient, if she could say so herself. She found it shorty after her arrival to town—it was hard to miss with its bright, off-white lights that glowed through Glastonbury’s dark and dreary streets. She tentatively pushed the glass door open. There was a young man snoozing behind the cash register.

She rolled her eyes, feeling painfully out of place in a store that screamed ‘twenty-first century.’ Why was she here again?

Right. Her girlfriend had cramps and was likely craving.

“Excuse me.”

He didn’t stir.

She cleared her throat, deliberately louder. “Excuse me.”

When he finally awoke, he regarded her with a groggy stare. “Yeah?”

“Do you have any snacks?”

“Help yourself,” he drawled lazily, gesturing towards the rows upon rows of brightly-colored chocolates, candies, and chips. There were coolers at back end of the store with a multitude of energy drinks and juices. Towards the left of the counter was freezer. “That one has ice cream.”

Where was she even going to start? By the nine, there so many choices! Feeling the need to vent, she had blurted out: “I have a cranky girlfriend on her period and I’m so very near my wits end.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened in sympathy. “I got you. Friend of O’Neill’s?”

“So to speak.”

“First time?”

She nodded.

“Alright kid, my name is Marty and I think you and I are gonna be good friends.”

Five minutes into their conversation, Diana realized that Marty was… quite interesting and not at all unpleasant.

“So we’ve narrowed it down to chocolates, and ice cream.”

“She’s quite fond of chocolates. You said these were imported from Asia?”

“Japan!” He grinned proudly.

Perfect.

“I’ll… get one in every flavor.”

“Go hard or go home, amirite?” Marty laughed.

“And…” she glanced over the ice cream cooler. “One pint of each flavor you have.”

Marty blinked.

Costs didn’t matter. Might as well make the most of being part of the ‘oppressive’ bourgeois.

---

“I had a feeling you’d still be up.” Diana whispered softly through the opening of Akko’s dorm. “Please don’t shut the door at my face again.”

“I’m sorry about that!” Akko cried out, but Diana held up her finger in a gesture to keep her quiet.

“Sucy and Lotte might wake up.”

“What’s going on?” Akko inquired. “It’s really late now, Dia.”

“M—May I come in?”

They slipped into the Red Team’s dormitory with hushed voices and the sound of shuffling feet. Diana should have asked Akko’s roommates before inviting herself to stay the night, but she’d rather not wake them and she could leave first thing in the morning.

Akko’s bright red eyes glistened in wonder at the plastic bag Diana was carrying. “W—Where did you get these?”

“In town,” she supplied cryptically.

“You snuck out.” Akko gawked.

“The method is unimportant.” Diana replied. And then her voice and gaze softened. “What matters is… do you like them?”

“I would have screamed in joy if you haven’t been trying to keep me quiet!” Akko said under her breath, pulling on Diana’s arm to sit beside her at her bed. “L—Let me take your coat.”

“That’s not necessary,” Diana whispered back, slipping out of her coat herself and hanging it at the edge of Akko’s bedpost. “I’d rather you just lean back and not exert yourself.”

She had changed into something more casual before leaving, and was glad she wouldn’t have to spend all night in their stuffy uniform. Akko was fiddling with her thumbs and biting her lip.

“Is something wrong?”

“No—no!” Akko reassured. “Well… I’m still sorry for how I’ve been today. I guess I should have told you, but I get really bad cramps on my period and it makes me want to like… break things.”

Diana softly reached over to hold Akko’s hand. “Barbara tells me you didn’t tell me about this?”

“Yeah.” Akko scratched at her cheek, looking away.

Diana scooted over to lean against the headboard of Akko’s bed, quietly inviting the brunette to rest against her. If instinct told her right, Akko would appreciate being held. Sure enough, the smaller witch followed the invitation, situating herself to lean against Diana’s chest. While she wrapped her arms around Akko’s torso, the only thing the blonde could think about was how much she missed holding her today.

She held onto Akko a little tighter, pulling her just a bit nearer. But then Akko began to tense, curling up into herself with a sharp breath.

“Cramps?” Diana spoke gently, laced with worry.

“Yeah. Jennifer’ tits this sucks.”

“What do they give for you at the infirmary?”

“The potion they give me knocks me out cold and I hate how I feel when I wake up in the morning.” She sulked. “Today wasn’t so bad though, so I just wanted to sleep.”

Diana frowned. The way she was gripping on her forearm told her the cramps probably haven’t gone away, so on a whim she wondered if…

“May I try something?”

Akko blinked up at her, a strained expression on her face. “It’s good, this is the worst of it. I really will be fine tomorrow.”

“But may I?” She insisted.

“O—Okay.”

Slowly, she breathed in, setting her hand above Akko’s stomach while she remembered the feeling of magic and… love.

“It’s warm.” Akko whispered, noticeably relaxing.

“It’s a spell from my family. Is this better?”

“So much better.” Akko laced her hands with Diana’s, gratitude evident in the breathlessness of her voice. “Thank you, Dia.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“It would have been troublesome for you, so I just wait it out.” Akko admitted sheepishly.

Troublesome. Diana smiled, watching Akko relax once the pain had been soothed away. She chuckled when Akko opened the first bar of chocolate her hand had found from the nearby pile. Her surprised gasp was a wonderful thing to hear. “This is—from—”

“Home?”

“Yeah!”

“I went to the convenience store in Glastonbury.” Diana admitted.

“I really don’t deserve you!” Akko pouted, head falling back into Diana’s shoulder. “You get me chocolates, have magic healing hands, and now you’re out of your dorm past curfew and—Ugh! I told you—troublesome.”

Diana pressed her nose against Akko’s shoulder, tightening the arms around her waist. The darkness of the room was relaxing, accentuated by a moonlit glow. She breathed in deeply, enjoying their closeness and how nice Akko smelled.

“I think you’re underestimating how much trouble I’m willing to go through for you.”

That earned her a kiss on the cheek. “When did you get so cheesy?”

“Are you complaining?”

“Definitely not.”

“And this is nothing.” Diana teased. “I believe I remember a certain witch chasing me all the way into Wedinburgh just to get me back to school. She didn’t even fly.”

“Mou!” Akko huffed, snuggling into Diana’s warmth even further. “You loved it.”

Diana paused in contentment.

"I love you.”

Akko turned to face her. Her eyes were moving carefully over Diana’s features, as if to memorize how she looked. She grinned. “I can’t believe you’re real and that you feel the same way.”

Diana felt her ears flush. This time, Akko kissed her softly on the lips.

“I love you.” She kissed her again. “Thank you for these, Diana. It—It means so much.”

“So,” Diana started with a teasing lilt in her voice. “What was that about—kissing me right at your doorway earlier?”

“Mood swings are caused by hormones, you know.” Akko pouted, flushing red in the cheeks.

“So picky with food, too.” She continued to tease, earning another quiet laugh from her girlfriend. Akko looked like herself again.

They fell into a familiar banter, curled up together in bed, and she realized that she’d do it again.

From raiding the kitchen, to running around the castle, to flying out in the middle of the night.

She’d do it again, and again, and again if she had to because Akko was smiling once more and everything—everything—was worth it.

fin

A/N: Hey guys! Here's another one-shot that absolutely no one asked for but I may burst into tears because of how much I loved the idea. I was beginning to get self-conscious about how many one-shots I've made for Diakko but like IDK I LOVE THEM OKAY IDC ANYMORE I hope you enjoy, and stay safe! I also appreciate all the comments people have left in the other works, and am sorry if I don't always get to respond but will try to find the opportunity to! <3

Additionally: Haahaaha yeah I know it's not an Appt update I'm soRRY

#Diakko #Dianakko #Diana Cavendish #Akko Kagari #Atsuko Kagari #LWA #Little Witch Academia #Luna Nova #Sucy Manbavaran #lotte yanson #LWA Akko #LWA Diana #Fluff #Romance #Cute Fanfic #Hamanda #wlw

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onelostgirl · 4 years

Text

7. In An Instant

Miya Atsumu x (f) smau

Atsumu wasn’t exactly excited for this fanmeet. He was usually willing to please a crowd, but something changed after Hayami left. She had been an assistant for their previous manager and was someone Atsumu fell hard for. He thought he had it all figured out until the day she vanished from his life.

He was ghosted, his calls ignored, didn’t read or reply to his messages, she had left him all alone quicker than he could ever spike a volleyball.

She was there and then she suddenly wasn’t.

It wasn’t until after their last fanmeet that she showed up looking as horrible as he was feeling.

‘I’m no good without you, but that’s not what it’s like for you is it.’

Her words felt like venom seeping into his body. Had she really fallen for his fake attempt of making things seem okay? She thought this was easy for him.

‘Is that why you left’

He finally managed to choke out as she sharply looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain as he wondered if they were just reflecting his own misery.

‘There’s no way it would work Tsu, you’re you a somebody- I’m a nobody.’

He couldn’t hear anything over the words she had said. She knew what it was like getting into a relationship with someone in the spot light like him. He told her over and over how difficult it would be but he thought they were worth it. All the pain, struggles, secrets, late nights, the waiting-she was worth it all.

‘Yer somebody ta me.’

He thought it would make a difference but her body spoke volumes, her shoulders crunched up tightly as she held onto her hands like she’d crumble in front of him. She was somewhere far from him, a place he could never reach.

‘Wasn’t it enough?’

He asked as silence followed his words.

‘Wasn’t what we felt fer eachother enough to take all that shit.’

He looked up to her and slowly wiped a drop of water from his cheek.

It must have been sprinkling. The rain would fall soon.

‘I need you but you can do fine with or without me-that’s why you need to let me go Tsu. Holding on will only hurt us both.’

She thought he didn’t need her that’s why she had left him.

Atsumu worked his entire life to be where he was, gave up any other possible future as he persued this sport professionally. He couldn’t undo what he put in, he couldn’t turn the clock and just choose not to do this. All his life, he dreamed of standing on that court and millions of others, facing off to players who may or may not beat him, leaving the odds where they were and giving his everything to each match.

This feeling, this passion of his was something he needed to chase after even if he was on his own. Even if his twin had chosen a different path.

This was his and deep down he knew if he just gave it up it would kill him. But a part of him also knew that it was too much to ask her to stay. Knowing that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, understanding that sometimes their relationship wouldn’t be what she deserved.

He hated not being able to go on dates whenever he wanted. Despised that if he was recognized in public holding her hand that her face would be plastered on every social media and news channel across the nation.

It was the price he had to pay for becoming a pro player but it wasn’t something she signed up for.

And at first it was so beautiful and precious but after all the months away and uncertainty Hayami couldn’t handle any of it. The lying tabloids whenever he was in the same breathing space as an aspiring model or actress, all the endorsements that were coupled with said women. All the speculation that he had been secretly dating various celebrities or models.

He couldn’t ask her to go through with it all unless he offered her something permanent. But after the way she left, doubt coursed through him. She didn’t even explain anything, in his eyes he wasn’t worth a single text. She just decided things on her own and left him to wonder if that meant they were on a break or broken up.

‘So this is it then’

He replied with more of a statement than a question. She had made up her mind and there was no changing it.

‘There’s no me in me anymore Tsu, I loved you so much that I became a weaker person. Love shouldn’t be this hard. I can’t stand beside you and be strong.’

A part of him understood where she was coming from but it didn’t make it any better. He knew she grew dependent on him but he didn’t feel bothered by that. She obviously didn’t feel the same.

Was letting her go the only way to help her? He wished he didn’t have to, he’d hold onto her all his life if he could but fact was she didn’t want that.

His love made her weak.

‘Somethin’s I can’t control-be happy Haya, even if it ain’t with me.’

It was the last thing he said before he walked away from her. He turned before she could say anything else, before he broke down in tears, before any more time would be wasted between them.

He left and even when every fiber of his being told him to turn around. He didn’t look back. Not once.

———

Setting up for this fanmeet, might have been too much for him to handle, luckily there was a pint sized person to keep him distracted.

Y/N had been getting on his nerve lately but since his mind was filled with disagreements with her, he didn’t have time to think about Haya. It actually worked in his favor because he would have been one hell of a pain in the ass if he had to deal with all his pent up emotions.

Having her there helped keep his thoughts from wandering, even if all they had been doing the last three hours was arguing about the lighting or how many people were allowed up to the table at once.

Atsumu looked over to y/n, saw her standing and looking over to the table where all the members of the team would be sitting.

“Ya just gonna stand there, Y/N.”

Y/N looked over to the blonde setter taking out something from the box beside him.

“Oh, quiet Miya. I was just thinking if the lighting is good enough for the fans to see everyone from this far.”

She explained as the blonde looked over to her from where he was squatting at.

“Sure sure le’ me do all the work.” He mumbled a part of him wondering how they actually got to talking normally with each other. At the beginning it seemed impossible but somehow now things were different.

“Oh gosh, you’ve done like two boxes of giveaways. I’ve done dozens at home.” She replied as the blonde shot her a nasty look which she actually held back a laugh from.

When Atsumu turned away, he hid the smirk that was about to escape his face. A part of him didn’t want her to know he might have actually been enjoying this.

“You know tomorrow is my first fanmeet with the team. I’ve done it before but somehow I’m excited but very anxious.” Y/N confessed as Atsumu slowly stopped what he was doing to look back to her.

For a moment, he couldn’t turn away from her.

For once it seemed like she let down her walls slightly in front of him and he was very much not expecting or use to this.

“Yer gonna be fine, it’ll be a breez’. Only thin’ ya gotta worry about is if any fans sneak back stage— or if anyone throws unmentio’ables to Omi-kun.”

Atsumu attempted to try to soothe her worries, something he had never done before and he also wasn’t sure why he did.

“Oh yeah only that.”

Y/N responded not so convinced that would be the biggest of her problems during tomorrow’s event. She knew that before Atsumu and her were genuinely civil to each other that he voiced concerns on his social media and a small voice inside her hoped none of the fanatical types showed up.

She shook her head trying to will away any of her uneasiness as the event wasn’t about her. All she had to do was provide all the necessities to make this successful for the team and their fans. She knew they all worked hard and they deserve time to bond with the people who work just as hard to support them.

Her plan was to be invisible so much so that no one would mind her presence but also so she wouldn’t stand out to cause an issue.

“I can hear yer brain goin’ into overdrive. Would ya chill Y/N.”

A red blush appeared across her cheeks, a part of her embarrassed to know he knew she was over anazlying the entire situation.

She hoped that it wouldn’t be noticed by the blonde setter as she silently willed herself to calm down.

“Ya know red might just be ya color.” His words just made her blush harder as she shook her head to try to get herself to stop.

Atsumu found this situation all too amusing as he watched Y/N try to look at everything except him. He didn’t even realize a smirk had appeared on his face.

Y/N glanced over to him and caught the smirk. It had been the first time she actually looked at him and never for that long. She could understand why everyone was attracted to him, there’s no way you couldn’t know he was nice to look at.

His good looks might have been the reason why fans still showed up despite how much of an ass he was whenever he demanded silence during his serves.

He was a rare type of eye candy that many knew needed to be appreciated.

Y/N quickly looked away not wanting to stare longer than she already had.

She knew he was trying to make her feel better and a part of her admired that he actually did. This belief he had, gave her a bit of courage to face whatever might come her way.

“Well there’s nothing I can’t handle. And if you ever feel like you can’t hack it or that you just need a moment to breathe, I got you.”

She stated as Atsumu’s head slowly panned up to her, he was suddenly curious what she looked like.

The first thing he saw was an outstretched hand in front of him.

He gradually brought his gaze up to her face where he met her fiercely intense yet kind eyes.

He knew instantly that even if he had initially though she was like Hayami, he had been wrong.

The woman in front of him didn’t need his strength, instead she was offering him hers.

It might have been the first time Atsumu truly saw Y/N. As he glanced at her hand he realized that he was unfair to judge her so harshly before.

He was so occupied looking at her that he never really saw her. Never even comprehended that she wasn’t Haya, that she was her own person. That even if he made Haya weak, it wouldn’t happen with Y/N because she wasn’t her, she had a strength all her own that he couldn’t take away.

While he thought he would dread this situation, that he would rather be stuck in a room with screaming babies. He realized that spending time with her wasn’t what he thought it was. She wasn’t so bad when he decided not to go out of his way to be an extra asshole.

“Ya sure yer gonna be able to handle all us jack’ls?”

He asked in a playful tone as Y/N looked up at him, a genuine smile on her face.

“Oh please-I’ll take the team, fans, press, and then some.” She stated flipping her hair as if he was being ridiculous to even suggest that.

previous | chapterlist | next

Author’s note: Finally, we have some progress! Y/N and Atsumu have actually begun to have a decent convo that led to some mutual respect from both sides. Now, we just have to see how the fanmeet will go and also what does life have in store for Y/N when an old friend suddenly gets added to the mix. Stay tuned for the next update and be ready to brace for whatever twists, turns, drops, and flips that come with this Love Loop. Thank you for all the support and love! Taglist is still open (:

Taglist: @shadyjinyoung @roiana-mustang @z-i-t-t @koukamisblog @90s-belladonna @kimxbae @hamsterfan17 @of-heroes-and-dreams @huliannajace @iloveanime691 @rinnieee @lilacshouko @alyssasteaparty @nhaikyuu

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #onelostgirl love loop #atsumu smau

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my-major-is-k-howard · 4 years

Text

Lover

Inspired by “Lover” by Taylor Swift. This chapter might be my favorite chapter of the whole story (although the one after this is up there too). Thank you to everybody who has been reading my work. It really means a lot to me. You have all my love. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ And, as always, enjoy!

Word Count: 2585

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

————————————————————

Ch. 4 - I’ve Loved You Three Summers

Anne admired the Polaroid a little longer before moving on to the next picture on the line. Tears pricked the edges of Anne’s eyes as she admired the next photo, flooded with memories from that day. It was barely a month after the event at the club but this picture had a completely different set of emotions attached to it.

Cathy’s novel had finally finished the editing process and she had specially requested six books to give an exclusive preview to the most meaningful people in her life, the queens. The Polaroid pictured the first time Anne read the contents of Cathy’s novel.

Little did she know at the time, the Polaroid would also hold one of the most important moments of her life within its white borders.

~~~~~

“You’re gonna let me have a sneak peak though. Right, Cathy?” Anne asked her girlfriend with pleading eyes.

“I already told you, Anne! You’ll see it along with everyone else,” Cathy laughed. Cathy clutched the books she was holding a little tighter, preparing just in case the gremlin decided to launch an impromptu raid on her precious stash of novels.

“But why can’t I look before them? I’m your girlfriend! Don’t you love me?” Anne pleaded, jutting out her bottom lip in a childish pout.

“I love you more than you know. But, that doesn’t mean you get special treatment this time,” Cathy smirked. Anne let out a fake gasp and clutched her chest as though she’d been shot.

“This is the utmost betrayal, Cathy.” Anne did her best to look hurt but the mischievous glint never left her eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll make it up to you soon,” Cathy whispered. Anne swore she saw a look of fear flash in Cathy’s eyes but it was gone before Anne could properly register it. Anne closed the gap between them and pressed a loving kiss to Cathy’s lips that was quickly reciprocated by the other girl.

“Will you show me the book now?” Anne cheekily asked as she pulled away.

Cathy chuckled to herself before responding. “You have the patience of a child in a candy store.”

Somehow, Cathy managed to fend off Anne’s persistent nagging and attempts of stealing the novel until the other queens arrived.

Anne opened the front door in a hurry and quickly ushered the other queens to the living room where Cathy was waiting for them. Cathy chuckled at seeing the queens’ confused expressions at Anne’s lack of greeting.

“I’m sorry. Anne has practically been begging me to show her the novel, and I don’t think it’s possible for her to wait any longer,” Cathy giggled.

“It took you all long enough to get here too,” Anne mumbled but she smiled at all of the queens to show she had no actual hard feelings. Anne took a seat next to Cathy on the couch as the other queens sat down around the room.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say we are all extremely proud of you, Cathy,” Aragon said as she chose her spot next to Jane. “You’ve worked so hard on this book and we know you poured so much of yourself into it.” Aragon smiled at her goddaughter as she finished speaking.

“We love you, dear, and we are so honored to share this special moment with you,” Jane added.

Anne turned to see that Cathy was shyly wiping away a tear from her eye before she spoke. “I wouldn’t want to share it with anybody else. I love you all and you each mean so much to me. You’ve encouraged me to keep working on this novel and pursue my dream of being an author, and because of that I am now holding physical copies of my dream. So, thank you.”

Cathy smiled at each of the queens, ending with Anne who was looking back at her with adoring eyes. Anne had always been her biggest supporter in being a writer. She was immensely proud of how far her girlfriend had come, especially now as she was holding her novel that was about to be published in her hands. “I’m so proud of you,” Anne whispered to Cathy, noticing that her eyes glistened at her words. “You’re amazing, Cathy.”

“I love you,” Cathy whispered back and pressed a kiss to Anne’s cheek. Anne smiled and watched as Cathy got up and gave each queen a copy of her novel. As she returned to her place next to Anne, Cathy shyly handed Anne her novel. Anne gingerly took it in her hands.

Anne took in every detail of the cover. She traced each of the golden letters of “Her Story” with her finger, admiring the title Cathy had chosen. Then, her eyes focused on the name under the title. Catherine Parr. Her Cathy. Anne once again was filled with pride at the thought of her girlfriend finally achieving her dreams.

“Oh, look at the dedication page!” Kat squealed, snapping Anne out of her thoughts. She looked up to see her cousin holding Cathy’s book in one hand and her pink Polaroid camera in the other.

“Kat! I hadn’t even noticed you brought your camera,” Anne commented.

Anne saw fear flash in Kat’s eyes which seemed very out of place. “Oh, um, yeah! I brought it along because-”

“She got this new type of film for her camera and she’s been very excited to try it out,” Cleves finished, giving Kat a pointed look that left Anne very confused. She heard Cathy breathe a sigh of relief next to her, so Anne turned to face her.

“Babe, are you okay?” Anne asked, suddenly worried about her girlfriend. Cathy seemed very tense as she clutched her copy of the book. When she met Anne’s eyes however, her anxiety visibly melted away. She placed her novel on the side table before responding.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Cathy smiled at Anne to assure her girlfriend that she was indeed fine. “But you should turn to the dedication page. It’s my favorite part of the book.”

Anne grinned at Cathy before opening the cover and flipping through the first few pages of the novel to finally get to the dedication page. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes when she saw what was written there:

For my wonderful fellow queens Catherine, Anne, Jane, Anna, and Katherine. You all inspire me everyday to be the best version of myself.

Anne smiled when she read those words, knowing that Cathy truly meant what she wrote. She cared so much about her friends, and using the dedication page of her novel was a small token of gratitude in Cathy’s eyes for the love the queens had given her over the years.

Anne turned to Cathy and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s really sweet, love.”

Cathy blushed before responding. “Turn the page, Annie.”

Anne looked at Cathy for a confused second before turning the page of the book. On the other side of the dedication page, Anne noticed that there was a handwritten message addressed to her. She recognized the handwriting immediately as belonging to the woman next to her. She shot Cathy a quick glance, noticing her shuffle for something in her pockets, before returning her gaze to the words on the page.

My beloved Anne,

It’s been 1335 days since you asked me to be your girlfriend and my life has become the most magical dream every day since then. I never thought that a single person could make me as happy as you make me but, as always, you manage to surprise me. Since that warm autumn day, I have fallen in love with your beautiful laugh, your adorable smile, your stunning emerald eyes, your unique sense of humor, your gentle whispers in the middle of the night, your desire to protect the people you love, your big heart that you show in everything you do, your warm and gentle kisses... you. I’ve fallen in love with every part of you.

You’ve read my journal that I gave you last Christmas which expresses the raw and unfiltered emotion and love that I have for you. This novel is a refined version of that same love. It is inspired by you and I dedicate this book to our love. You have always encouraged me to write and to keep pushing toward my goals. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a supportive and loving girlfriend but I thank my lucky stars for that every day.

Anne, I love you more than I could ever hope to express in a lifetime but I want to spend the rest of our days trying to show you how much I truly love you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep in your arms at the end of each day. I want to visit the library and small coffee shops with you. I want to hold hands and kiss in the rain. I want to cuddle and watch movies together. I even want to annoy Cleves with our kissing whenever we have the queens over for a movie night. I want to cry with you on your worst days and celebrate with you on your best days. I want to travel the world with you and have new adventures. I want to have children with you. I want to grow old with you. I want everything.

1335 days ago you asked me to be your girlfriend but I want them all. Every single day for the rest of our lives. So, Anne…

The message stopped abruptly, leaving Anne very confused and emotional. She wiped the tears that were trailing down her cheeks away before saying, “Cathy, you didn’t finish the-”

The flow of Anne’s words immediately stopped when she looked up at the sight before her. Cathy was no longer sitting on the couch. Rather, she was right in front of Anne, kneeling down on one knee. Anne gasped as she saw Cathy reach inside her pocket and pull out a small velvet box. Anne could feel the tears pooling in her eyes and threatening to pour down her face as Cathy slowly opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, adorned with two emeralds adjacent to the diamond.

Cathy took one of Anne’s hands in her own and looked up at her girlfriend with a vulnerable look, laced with hope but also fear visible in her eyes. She took a shaky breath before speaking.

“Will you marry me?”

Anne could no longer hold back the deluge of tears when she heard Cathy say those words. Tossing the book in her lap aside, Anne squeezed Cathy’s hand and nodded. “YES! Ohmygod Yes!”

Cathy broke into the widest smile before also joining Anne by bursting with happy tears. Anne squealed with joy before hugging Cathy. Of course, clumsy as she was, Anne used a little too much force and knocked both of them to the ground. The newly engaged couple broke out in laughter, sprawled across the floor and still embracing one another. Anne peered into Cathy’s mesmerizing brown eyes, getting lost in the intensity of love that they reflected. Anne leaned in and pressed a firm yet loving kiss to Cathy’s lips, immediately melting into Cathy.

“So, like, aren’t you going to put the ring on her finger? Do you even know how this works?”

Anna’s words broke the couple out of their bubble of bliss and brought them back to the real world, where the queens were quietly watching the interaction play out. Anne looked around and saw Jane wiping away her tears while Aragon was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Cleves had a wide grin plastered on her face while Kat looked like she was holding back a squeal of joy. Kat was also cradling a new Polaroid picture that Anne was desperate to see already. Before she could mention anything to Kat, Cathy quickly spoke up. “Of course I know how this works, Cleves! I didn’t spend six months preparing for this moment not knowing how this works!”

Cathy’s response was rushed and the deep blush on her cheeks gave away her embarrassment. She parted from Anne and reached for the velvet box that she had dropped when Anne had all but tackled her to the floor. Cathy pulled the ring out, then reached for Anne’s left hand.

Anne swooned as Cathy slowly slid the ring onto her finger, looking up to meet the eyes of her fiancée. Her eyes glistened with tears once again when she saw the look of adoration on Cathy’s face as she admired the ring on her hand. Anne followed her gaze and took her first proper look at the ring on her finger. The thin band of gold held a beautiful diamond in the center with two smaller emeralds on either side of the diamond. It was absolutely stunning and Anne fell in love with it immediately. It was almost like it was made for her.

“Do you like it?” Cathy asked nervously. “If not then we can exchange it for-”

“Are you kidding?!” Anne interrupted. “I love it! It’s beautiful, Cathy!”

Anne kissed her fiancée fervently before showing off her ring to the other queens. Her friends admired the engagement ring, each taking their turn to complement its beauty before Anne went back to her spot next to Cathy who had returned to sit on the couch. Cathy opened her arms and Anne immediately cuddled into her, resting her head in the crook of Cathy’s neck.

“Soooo, Kat. You just so happened to be testing new film out, huh. What a coincidence,” Anne stated sarcastically.

“I may have mentioned what I was planning to them beforehand, love,” Cathy said to the girl in her arms. “Kat, did you manage to get a good picture?”

“Yeah, I think so!” Kat answered excitedly. “It’s starting to develop now.” She gestured to the picture she was still holding.

“I wanna see!” Anne exclaimed, not able to wait any longer to see her and Cathy’s special moment frozen in time. Kat obliged and handed the picture to her older cousin. Though it was faint, Anne could make out the details of the picture. Anne was holding “Her Story” in one hand while the other was clutching Cathy’s hand. Anne had a hopeful expression on her face, only a few seconds away from bursting into tears. Cathy was down on one knee in front of her, gazing lovingly at her soon-to-be fiancée with the same hopeful expression reflected in her eyes. The ring gleamed beautifully in the light, as if the diamond was refracting sunlight at the same time that the photo was taken.

Anne heard Cathy sniffle above her and she turned to see her wipe away a few tears that were falling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Kat. It’s perfect.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m just glad I didn’t ruin the surprise,” Kat answered sheepishly, remembering her near slip up earlier.

“And you were close too,” Aragon responded. “We’re just lucky that Anne is an oblivious idiot 99% of the time.”

“Hey! It’s only like 86% of the time, Catherine!” Anne shouted back.

The queens laughed together, all elated by the life-changing events that they had just witnessed.

After a few moments, Cathy broke the comfortable silence. “I think it’s time we bring out the champagne. Don’t you think, Anne?”

“Yeah! Let’s get the real party started!”

#parrlyn #parrleyn #parrlyn fanfic #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #anne boleyn #catherine parr #anne boleyn x catherine parr

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hopesilverheart · 3 years

Text

Hot chocolate with a dash of love

(read on ao3)

Pairing: Aline/Maia Rated: Gen Summary: “You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Alec sighed. “That girl even lets you make those disgusting holiday drinks you love so much, and I assure you it’s not because she likes them.”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my drinks!” Aline threw a dishtowel at her friend. “And I guarantee you that she likes them, since she always asks for more. You can even ask her when she stops by today, if it’ll make you happy.”

“Oh, it would make me very happy,” Alec grinned. “I can’t wait to see where that conversation leads us.”

Or: Aline loves making coffee during the winter season; Maia loves buying coffee from her.

For the @malecdiscordserver Advent Calendar

“Oh god, what atrocity have you made this time?”

At the sound of Alec’s voice, Aline’s gaze snapped away from the drink she’d been preparing only to land on her best friend’s tired form. She almost winced in sympathy but figured she didn’t look much better, so any attempt at asking after him would only end with Alec turning the situation against her.

“Good morning to you too,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage – which was to say not much, given how drained she was from finals season. “This is the delicious peppermint mocha with eggnog foam, covered in candy cane sprinkles and mini marshmallows.”

At her description, Alec mock-gagged and skirted around her like the drink in her hands was the plague. Aline rolled her eyes at his antics but didn’t comment on his inability to appreciate holiday drinks; he wasn’t the only one who made fun of her tastes and she would much rather roast a rude customer than her best friend.

“Your coffee is already on the counter,” she piped up instead, grinning internally when Alec’s eyes lit up. She had known the man ever since the two of them were too little to walk, and it hadn’t taken her long to realise that the best way to his heart was through his favourite foods – or in this case, coffee. “And yes, I know I’m the most amazing best friend in the world. I hope you appreciate the efforts I put into it, because that stuff is ridiculously difficult to make.”

“That’s just because you’re terrible with the foam,” Alec snorted, sighing contentedly as he took a sip of his drink. “You should really let me deal with that, but I suppose I owe you a thank you for having this ready for me. How early did you even get here?”

“Simon made me take his graveyard shift,” Aline admitted defeatedly. “I should know better than to let his wide eyes fool me, but he mentioned something about his sister and there was no way I was going to refuse his offer. Remember that Christmas shift we were going to do together? Well, I hope you’re going to have a nice time with Simon.”

“No,” Alec gaped. “How the hell did you get him to accept Christmas of all days? His sister better have been in need of serious help because I refuse to be stuck with him for anything less than a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Oh please, don’t lie to yourself,” Aline nudged her friend playfully. “I know you secretly love having shifts with Si. He makes your drink perfectly and he mans the register every time you look like you’re about to murder someone. And of course, there’s the fact that he lets you sneak a break in whenever Magnus stops by. That boy is gold and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Alec mumbled, but Aline could see the fond smile tugging at his lips as he tied his apron with a flourish he’d undoubtedly gotten from his boyfriend. “Do you know when Lyds is taking over for you?”

“I told her not to get here before ten,” Aline shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, hoping Alec wouldn’t comment on-

“Ten, huh?” Her best friend raised his eyebrows, and Aline cursed internally. The man was too observant for his own good, sometimes. “Is that random, or does it perhaps have something to do with the pretty girl from my marketing class you seem to like so much?”

“Completely random,” Aline huffed. “I would never put in extra work just to see someone who I don’t even know. Besides, I’m pretty sure she only comes here to see you, since her lectures are on the other side of campus.”

“How on earth do you know that?” Alec laughed loudly, sounding genuinely surprised at the amount of information Aline had somehow managed to gather about the beautiful girl with warm eyes and curls she wanted to run her fingers through. “Even I don’t know where all of her lectures are, and I’m in three of her courses.”

“I talked to her,” Aline lied through her teeth.

In reality, she’d gotten answers through a fair amount of snooping, dubiously ethical social media research, and questions she’d carefully asked various Econ students who visited the coffee shop regularly. All in all, she’d put in more effort to find out about the other woman than she’d put in any of her papers that semester. It had been worth it, of course, but Alec didn’t need to know any of that.

“Whatever you say,” he smirked at her. “My point is that Maia – in case you somehow missed her name while the two of you were… talking – never stops by later than ten, which means there’s a good chance you’re trying to see her before you have to leave. As for why she comes here, I think we both know it has nothing to do with me. That girl is as gay as I am and you know it.”

“She could be bi, you know,” Aline pointed out, although she couldn’t deny the way her heart skipped a beat at the confirmation of what she’d been thinking for the past two months. It wasn’t that the girl – Maia – looked gay, but the way she stared at Aline… Well, some things were hard to ignore. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Alec sighed. “That girl even lets you make those disgusting holiday drinks you love so much, and I assure you it’s not because she likes them.”

“Oh, it would make me very happy,” Alec grinned. “I can’t wait to see where that conversation leads us.”

Aline opened her mouth to answer but before her smart retort could slip past her lips, a customer entered the shop and marked the beginning of the morning rush. Nevertheless, Aline sent her best friend a sharp glance as she smiled pleasantly at the customer to take his order.

There was no way her favourite customer – and hypothetical crush, according to Alec – didn’t like her drinks. No way on earth.

***

It took two hours of working tirelessly alongside Alec but finally, the woman they’d both been waiting for stepped through the shop’s front doors, looking as pretty and bright as she always did.

Aline couldn’t quite remember when she’d first seen Maia, but she remembered exactly how she’d felt. She remembered her mouth going dry, her heart clenching at the sight of such a beautiful woman, and all her thoughts disappearing from her mind. She remembered Lydia nudging her in the ribs and staring at her expectantly as the angel stepped up to the counter, and she remembered fumbling over her words as she tried to take the girl’s order.

She’d been a disaster and seeing the woman back again the next day had been the most pleasant surprise of her first month back at uni. Ever since then, Maia had stopped by the shop almost every day of the week, even weekends, and all of Aline’s co-workers seemed to think she was the reason behind the increasingly frequent visits.

She got their point, she really did, but she still struggled to understand why a woman as stunning and confident as Maia would be interested in her. And if she was, why not just ask Aline out? It wasn’t like she was subtle with her – hypothetical – crush on the other woman.

After all, after over two months of seeing Maia up to six times a week, nothing had occurred between them beyond the occasional greeting when they crossed paths on campus.

“Good morning Alec! Good morning Aline!” Maia’s voice cut through Aline’s thoughts, bringing her attention back to the very woman she’d been thinking about. God, she was gorgeous. “How are you doing today?”

“Tired,” Aline admitted, biting back a yawn as the thought of her bed flashed in her mind. She felt like she hadn’t slept in years. “Simon had me covering his shift last night and early this morning, so I honestly feel like a zombie.”

“Why are you even here?” Maia’s eyebrows flew up. “I would have left this goddamn place as soon as possible if my friend had gotten me to cover his shift. Isn’t Lydia usually here around this time?”

“She is,” Aline answered, wondering why the woman even knew about their shifts. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge. “I just thought I’d pick up a few extra hours; a little more cash can never hurt, you know?”

“She’s lying.”

Until then, Aline had never really understood why people wanted to strangle their friends sometimes. Sure, Alec teased her more than anyone else and Lydia occasionally got on her nerves with her endless sources of knowledge, but she’d never wanted to physically hurt them before.

Right then, however, she could easily picture her hands around Alec’s neck. Anything to make him shut up, really.

“Am I?” Aline asked through gritted teeth, shooting Alec the deadliest glare she could manage and preening slightly when he backed off with raised hands. “That’s what I thought.”

When she looked back at Maia, the brunette looked like she was holding back a laugh, although her eyes were sparkling with an emotion Aline couldn’t quite put her finger on. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She’d made a fool of herself in front of Maia countless times already, and she wasn’t exactly eager to add another situation to her tally.

“Anything I need to know?” Maia finally asked.

“Alec’s just being his usual foolish self,” Aline replied unconvincingly – she could hear her voice trembling, for goodness sake. “Now, what did you want? Because as much as I despise that man, I also have a bet to win and I would love for you to prove my point.”

“And your point will be proven depending on the coffee I choose?” She sounded doubtful, but Aline didn’t let that bother her. She might not have been the best at flirting or navigating social interactions, but she could brew the best coffee out of all the workers at the shop and she was determined to show Alec that her drinks were fantastic. “I guess I’ll have whatever you feel like making, then.”

“That’s-” Aline cut herself off as she felt her cheeks turn red. It was very sweet of Maia, if she was being completely honest, but it also wouldn’t do much to convince Alec that the woman actually enjoyed her drinks. She couldn’t just force the beverage on Maia and call it a win; she needed the other woman to admit that she wanted one of her ‘sugary nightmares’. “That’s very kind of you, but it’s also not what this is about. If you could have any drink right now, within our limits, what would it be? What would you get if it were anyone other than me here.”

“Oh, well that’s a completely different question,” Maia sighed as though she was truly considering Aline’s question. “See, if it were you, I would get that hot chocolate topped with peppermint foam that you made the other day. If it were someone else, I’d probably ask for a basic vanilla drink because – and don’t tell the others I said this – they’re terrible at making holiday drinks.”

The tell-tale sound of plastic cups toppling over rang out behind Aline and it took all of her willpower for her not to grin victoriously as she turned back to check on Alec. Her best friend stuck his tongue out at her childishly, gesturing for her to get back to her own business. Aline was more than willing to oblige.

“My drinks are the best, then?” She asked sweetly. “And you’re not forcing yourself to drink them because of some strange obligation you feel towards me?”

“Obligation is the last thing I feel for you, Aline.”

Maia’s words had Aline freezing in her tracks, her ears burning as she lifted her gaze to meet Maia’s. Instead of looking mortified or amused, as Aline had assumed she would, she stared at the barista unashamedly, the glint in her eyes back with a vengeance.

This time, Aline thought she might have an idea what that was all about.

She took a deep breath, willing the last of her anxiety away the same way she had when she was younger and her mother had taken her along on business trips. She knew how to handle stressful situations; she’d been raised to handle them, even. If she could somehow make it through conversations with foreign politics who couldn’t have cared less about a little girl, she could make it through a casual talk with her crush.

Her not-so-hypothetical crush.

“Are you saying you didn’t start buying these ridiculously sweet drinks because you wanted to make me happy?” She raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. Whether or not Maia liked her drinks now, there was no doubt in Aline’s mind that no sane person would order her special beverages without some sort of hidden motive.

“Making you happy and feeling like I have to buy the drinks are far from the same things, you know?” Maia pointed out, a lopsided smile tugging at her lips. “But you’re right, that is why I started buying them. Before you start crooning in victory, Alec, I’ll have you know that I do enjoy her drinks! I’m pretty sure I get a sugar high every time I take a sip, but it’s completely worth it.”

“You’re insane!” Alec called over, muttering an apology to the customer behind Maia as he fumbled with yet another cup.

“You really don’t mind them?” Aline asked again. She knew her questions were starting to get redundant, but a girl was allowed to check before getting her hopes up, right?

“Aline, they’re delicious,” Maia rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Is that enough for you? Or do you also need me to tell you that even if they were terrible, I would still buy them and pretend to enjoy them just to see the way you light up every time I order one.”

“Oh my god,” Aline blushed brightly. “That’s- Um- Yeah, thank you? Did you want your drink now?”

“That and maybe a date?” Maia suggested calmly, and Aline couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed to get those words out without stuttering, because her heart was pounding wildly and she could feel her hands sweating profusely.

Maia had been coming to the shop for months; what on earth had made her decide to ask Aline now, of all times? And why was she so- Sure? Confident? Alec had told Aline that the other woman never hesitated and always spoke her mind, but this still seemed very sudden.

She wasn’t exactly complaining, but she also hadn’t been prepared in the slightest. She’d thought that maybe – maybe – after a few more weeks of fumbling her way through conversations and flirting through poor puns as well as overly sweet drinks, Maia might show interest. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Who knew wooing could be so fast? So easy?

(It didn’t feel easy, but it also didn’t feel half as difficult as Aline’s past relationships, so she would take what she could get.)

“She would love to go on a date with you,” Alec’s voice broke through her rambling thoughts.

At any other time, Aline would have reprimanded her friend for speaking in her place, but she honestly couldn’t be angry about it when she noticed the way Maia’s features had started losing their brightness and eagerness.

“Yes! Absolutely! I would love nothing more than that,” she blurted out before Maia could start freaking out – one of them was more than enough, she thought. “I’m sorry, I just- That was- I didn’t consider this option when I wondered how you might react to my question. I thought it was rather innocuous.”

“It was,” Maia shrugged. “But you’ve been making me special holiday drinks all month long, Alec was clearly implying that you didn’t pick this shift up just to make money, and my gaydar has never been wrong before, so I thought I might as well take the leap.”

“That was a good idea,” Aline nodded rapidly, ignoring Alec and Maia’s matching laughter. “A great idea, even.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Maia chuckled. “I’ll stop by tomorrow so we can figure out the details? I have to talk to my boss about my shifts for the week but I’d love to get this planned out as soon as possible.”

“Definitely,” Aline agreed, hoping she didn’t sound as smitten as she thought she did. “Tomorrow works for me. I work all morning.”

“I know,” Maia winked. “Now, about that drink?”

Alec groaned, but Aline beamed at the reminder of her favourite part of her job at the coffee shop.

Five minutes later, Maia was leaving the shop with a sweet drink made with love – and terrible coffee art that made her smile anyways – as well as Aline’s phone number tucked in her jacket pocket.

Alec could complain as much as he wanted, but he couldn’t deny that Aline’s ridiculous things had earned her the most wonderful thing in the world: a date and, with that, a chance at love.

#aline/maia #alaia #my writing #girls in love #Malec Discord Server #fluff #christmas #seasonal drinks #coffee shop au #aline penhallow #maia roberts #as always i love my women #and my rare pairs #im also having the time of my life discovering these new ships #and imagining the way they would work

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Match up 🌅

Hello! I hope you’re doing well during these uncertain times ^^ I found this blog after my tumblr break and I’m always hungry for ikemen content so here we are. I’m also happy to see more fans of harry potter, the arcana, castlevania, and black butler!! But intros aside, may I request for an ikemen series matchup?? (any boy from the three games im okay) Thank you!!!

I’m gonna break this down into categories so I wont get confused as I write it and I hope it’ll be easier on your part too ^^

About me: she/her, Aries sun/Gemini moon, intp-a, Slytherin, enneagram 5, love language touch

Interests: writing, drawing, watching cartoons/anime/musicals/stageplays, history, culture, philosophy, fandoms in general ^^

Personality: I see myself as an aloof type of person until you become a close person to me, then I’ll never shut up about my interests that can go from fluff to nsfw to angst in a snap. Basically a mess inside and out. I also have quite the temper once you reach the end of my patience so I try my best to keep a cool head (keyword: try) ^^ I also dont have a filter when it comes to swearing and can be apathetic at times so I try not to be around children too much. However if you ask me for advice or just plain comfort I don’t mind and will do my best.

It’s probably obvious from my previous description but I’m very awkward around people and I find it hard to connect, but once I do find people who I can relate to I try my best to keep the friendship ^^

I do value the opinions of people who matter to me and try to learn from it. As for dealing with problems I fluctuate from taking them head on or just outright ignoring them. I also have this tendency to bottle up my emotions until I can’t anymore and it all comes flowing out… I’m also not easily grossed out by things unless its bugs then pls get me out of here. Good food is a surefire way to lift my mood!!

Fun facts abt me ig

1. I dream to be a diplomat once I graduate

2. I get way too engrossed in analyzing politics

3. Im just a nerd for languages (know a lot of words but cant speak)

4. I have a sweet tooth, but I cant stand too sweet sweets (dark chocolate all the way)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request <3<3! I hope you enjoy it and have a super good day! And soz for making you wait soooooo long for this O.O! Also i hope this satisfies your thirst for more ikesen content <3<3

Content warning: swearing or should i rather say one swear word lol

So I match you with……………….. Nobunaga

So I was definitely between three bois that being Nobunaga, Shingen and Yoshimoto

The first time Nobunaga meets you after you rescued him from the flames of the burning building, he is in awe. He is amazed at how a mere woman was able to pull a man x2 her size from a burning building. He was even more intrigued with your aloof personality and at the fact that you had no interest in receiving any reward or compensation for saving his life. He at that moment decided that you must be some sort of lucky charm sent from the heavens to protect him. He took you back to Azuchi Castle with him and named you as the Oda princess. Mamabear was incredibly suspicious of you, of course, no shocker there given your cold, distant unapproachable exterior. It didn’t help that you slapped Nobunaga’s hand away after he tried to make an unwanted advance, causing mama bear to fume at you. Your patience was wearing thin with the man who now held a sword at your throat, threatening you. Luckily Nobungaga defused the situation before you could complexly loose your temper.

You work incredibly hard for the castle and its people, you took pride in your work, and it definitely showed. Even Nobunaga was impressed with the excellent work you were doing and has noticed that since your arrival things around the castle has been running much smoother. He summons you to his room to thank you and to give you the opportunity to *ahem* warm his bed. To which you just replied “No fucken chance in hell”. He narrowed his eyes and asked why not, to which you just answered, that you had only just met a week ago and that you weren’t that type of girl. Nobunaga was shook he had never been refused before, he also found your lack of filter genuinely amusing. The way you would just swear and just say whatever was on your mind.

You looked around his room and couldn’t help, but notice is vast collections of historical artefacts. Your eyes lit up in curiosity at all the fantastic pieces. Nobunaga couldn’t help but smile at his lil lucky charm who seems to have made herself at home in his room now looking at all his collection of art and trinkets. He would walk up behind you and explain the origin and backstory of each of the pieces. The two of you actually spent the whole night talking about history and different cultures. And that is when you accidentally let it slip that you were from the future. This definitely caught Nobunaga’s attention. At first, he didn’t believe you, but after you showed him the contents of your handbag, he was convinced.

You found yourself slowly but surely opening up to the man as time progressed. You nightly visits to drink tea in his room and chat for hours had become somewhat of a regular occurrence. Nobunaga absolutely loved the way your eyes lit up whenever you would talk about topics that interested you. He also loved how open-minded you were, listening and valuing his opinion. And you loved how open-minded he was, the two of you learned a lot from each other, through these regular tea dates.

Nobunaga had found out that you loved stageplays/musical so he would often find you randomly in the middle of the afternoon and drag you with him to one of his random nearby territories. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, just simply put you onto of the horse and ride. He loved the way your eyes lit up as you neared the stage and figured out his plan. He would always reserve the best seat for the two of you and ensure that Masa had made the two of you the best snacks to munch on during the show. You count help but smile a bright, radiant smile at the sweet raven-haired man.

You looked over at him, devouring the sweets that Masamune had managed to sneak into the basket. Both of you loved these trips away cause it meant that the two of you could indulge in sweet sugary candies away from the watchful gaze of Mother dearest. After the show, the two of you would spend hours discussing it over even more sweets, at one of the nearby tea houses. Needless to say, the two of you had spent so much time together its no wonder that you were head over heel for each other.

Your relationship with the devil king started off a little rocky cause of your crazy awkwardness, but luckily Nobunaga actually found it really cute and lived for those moments when you would say or do something super awkward and turn a deep shade of red. For you see, this feared ruler is also a bit awkward and clumsy when it comes to love. For example, when he asked you to become his one and only queen, he did so in the cutest way possible. While the two of you were having tea after a show, he started to doodle a little picture on a napkin, at first the two of you were drawing the equivalent to memes and giving it to each other for a good laugh, but then he gave you something you never expected. A clumsy doodle of himself confessing his love for you, you couldn’t help but smile and kiss him right then and there. After all, you can go from fluffy to NSFW in 0,2 seconds, luckily the two of you kept things PG in the teahouse.

Nobunaga loved how diplomatic you were and after you told him about your dream of becoming a diplomat, he was right there by your side supporting you. You had found out about the conflict between him and Shingen and of course you just had to do something. You at this point had Nobunaga wrapped around your little finger, so when you requested that he share custody of the Kai with Shingen, he agreed as long as you act as diplomate between the two.

One day a powerful daimyo and his daughter came to visit. To say that you didn’t like the pair would be an understatement. The woman would constantly pine for Nobunaga’s affection and make your life a living hell. You couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous, sad and frustrated as since they came to visit you hadn’t seen Nobunaga at all. Of course, you bottled up all these emotions and put on a smile, pretending like everything was okay, but honestly, you were ready to bust. You reached your tipping point at the banquet. You hadn’t seen Nobunaga all week as he has been in and out of councils. You waled into the hall to see the woman all over Nobunaga. You went to take your seat beside Nobunaga like you had done for countless banquets and that’s when this woman made the rudest comment towards you “Um excuse me you filthy maid, the servants quarters are back there, and if you don’t leave Nobunaga and me alone I will have to call a guard over to escort you to the dungeons”. Honestly, you were shook, even if you were just a maid, that didn’t give her the right to act so rudely, just because she has some fake ass title. You slammed your fists on the table finally losing your temper and boy oh boy did the insults fly. TBH you even threw in a few insults from their home language, just to prove that you aren’t just some daft woman.

Needless to say, the woman was looking around to the fellow warlords to help her out of back her up, but they were all way to busy howling in laughter at their princesses foul language. Finally, the woman looked to your lover for aid. He simply chuckled and started to speak. “It seems there has been some misunderstanding as to who this woman beside me is” He looked down at the daimyo’s daughter giving her the cockiest grin. She was now looking at you with a devious smile, thinking that Nobu was about to summon you away.

“For those who do not know, I will make my intentions clear and known. This woman beside me is my dearest fireball, the love of my life, my equal and my queen, she is and will be the only woman in history fit to rule the world by my side.” He took your hand in his and gently tugged you to fall into his lap, he then kissed your temple and continued “To her, I give my heart, body and soul” He then pulled out a beautiful ring and asked, “Will you marry me, my dearest love”. To say the daimyo’s daughter was shook would be an understatement. You simply nodded, while wrapping your arms around your fiance’s neck to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

Other potential matches……………..Shingen

Hope you enjoyed it dear ^_^ ❤🥰@hilarythemermaid

#oda nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga oda #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #matchups #ikesen matchup #match ups #matches #nobunaga matchup #submission

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wavehq · 9 months

Text

enjoy limitless possibilities here in celestire islands, kory anders ( dc ) and kate bishop ( marvel ), where you can start the new life you've always longed for. make sure you read the checklist, as we'll be sending the discord link through ims! enjoy your new dream, maverick!

( marvel comics, dupes not allowed. asia jackson, she/her, cis woman. ) ——- hey, is that ( kate bishop ) hanging around ( lunalia animal shelter )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty - four ) year old ( personal trainer ) and ( rescue volunteer )? they’re notorious for being ( resilient ) yet ( impulsive ), and i always seem to hear ( cynic ) by ( noah kahan ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( painting her mother’s car purple when she was nine ), and they’re associated with ( bandaged fingertips and snapped bowstrings, the perfectly-curated facade of a smile, cool metal glinting in the sunlight ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( watching her best friend die and not doing anything to stop it ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ maverick, 24 / cst, she/they. ]

( detective comics, dupes not allowed. ryan destiny, she/her, cis woman. ) ——- hey, is that ( kory anders ) hanging around ( lucky lanes )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty - six ) year old ( bartender ) and ( aspiring astronomer )? they’re notorious for being ( dauntless ) yet ( belligerent ), and i always seem to hear ( alien superstar ) by ( beyoncé ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( sneaking into and falling asleep in the observatory multiple times ), and they’re associated with ( muffled rock music echoing down an empty hallway, the sharp burn of hot coffee, a blazing fire lighting up the night sky, sticky-sweet candy floss ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( letting the love of her life marry someone else ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ maverick, 24 / cst, she/they. ]

#dc rp #marvel rp #comics rp #multifandom rp #crossover rp #panfandom rp #discord rp #whq.accept

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regalloki · 4 years

Text

Memories

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It’s the last night before Bucky’s departure to go fight in the war, so you visit the Stark Expo together along with Steve. It’s your last date, so you make some memories to look back to while he’s away.

Warnings: a whole ton of fluff

Author’s note: Bucky’s backstory is based on the TFA tie-in comic and the Captain America and Bucky comics cause we see very little of his life pre-TFA (the mcu has done us wrong tbh). Also the reader can be read as gender neutral!

Word count: 2196

18 March, 1943

It was the day before he’d leave. He had just received his orders, being appointed sergeant of the 107th. Admittedly, you were a tad bit bitter. You weren’t worried for him, per se. Bucky was capable in hand-to-hand combat and an excellent marksman as well and could very well hold his own against men stronger than him. He was a natural, after all, having a knack for that sort of stuff. He was the three-time YMCA welterweight boxing champion, so, surely, he knew how to put up one hell of a good fight. During training in Wisconsin, he quickly and steadily rose up the hierarchy and the ranks to earn the title of sergeant. He would indubitably be a valuable asset to his regiment. However, watching him go was, for you, nothing short of tormenting.

You caught sight of Bucky heading towards you, charming as ever, sporting that beguiling cheeky grin that made your knees buckle. He looked positively stunning and you caught yourself unabashedly checking him out. His confident strut, cocky posture and calm nature added to the undaunted and self-assured allure, but the gleam in his entrancing baby blues, the slight tip of his head and the lovesick subconscious smile he didn’t manage to conceal after quickly catching a glimpse of you were a dead giveaway of his feigned composure.

Beneath that cool, tough and charming veneer, Bucky was an utter sweetheart. He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but he was more silly and sentimental than he came across as. A huge sop, Bucky had a thing for being close to you. He liked falling asleep on you, listening to your heart beat or the low, soothing vibrations of your chest whenever you’d softly hum some made-up tune to lull him into a peaceful slumber. His hand had practically molded against your own. He was by all means a sucker for hand holding, but he’d rather not be seen. He had a reputation to withhold, after all. However, he managed to sneak his calloused hand in yours here and there, under a table or during those long cuddle sessions he liked after a particularly hard day when you were both alone at last. Bucky also had a weak spot for kisses. He tried his utmost to be stealthy and clandestine in public, but he oftentimes yielded to his desire and would slyly steal a few. If there’s one thing Bucky relished more than kissing you, it was being kissed by you. When you two were alone during the scarce downtime you’d get, all types of kisses were in order. Cheek kisses, mouth kisses, forehead kisses, neck kisses. They made Bucky feel enveloped by a welcoming surge of warmth and tenderness. He savored those moments, for they made him feel loved and cherished. It was safe to say he was absolutely smitten.

You took great joy in calling him out for how sensitive he is. His cheeks would immediately blush a gentle shade of tomato red and he would hang his head low in a desperate attempt to hide his toothy, broad smile he spectacularly failed to hold back and collect himself. But he knew it was absolute nonsense and all in good fun. He was aware of how fond you were of his clinginess and how cute you thought his gimmicks are.

“Hi, darling”, he greeted you, the low trill of his voice alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. He hugged you, briefly and slyly grazing his lips against your cheek.

He looked quite dapper in his uniform. Undoubtedly, he cleaned up nicely, you had to give him that. You were had been accustomed to a considerably ruggier look. His hair tended to be a messy halo around his head and strands would pop up here and there to frame and accentuate his handsome features. He sometimes even boasted a few bruises or marks, tell-tale signs of some recent tussle. He was never the one to shy out of a fight, although Steve was usually the one to get himself caught up in one and Bucky would be the one to defend his friend- and get a few good licks in before drawing Steve away.

You handed them their tickets to the Stark Expo. Bucky was ecstatic to find out he would be around in Brooklyn long enough to be able to go. You decided to get tickets for the two of you and Steve, something like a parting gift for Bucky. You smiled at the memory of when you told him you could all go together. His eyes went wide and he seemed so thrilled. You’ve lost count of how many times he thanked you.

The two of you started walking side by side, stealing glances and smiles. Further down the road, you met with Steve. The three of you started catching up. Bucky told you all about Becca’s baking disaster and Steve’s latest misadventure in the back of an alley that morning. You giggled at Bucky’s frustration and at Steve’s endeavor to justify his shenanigans.

“Buck- Bucky! Hear me out! That jerk was being disrespectful and he made that woman cry! What was I supposed to do-”

“Try not to get into a fight, that’s what! It’s been, what, the third time I’ve found you getting beat up in an alley or behind some diner just this month! I’m worried for you, Steve! I won’t be here to bail you out!”

“But-”

“Can’t you for once just do as your told? You know what? You may be my best friend but you also make for one hell of a pain in my ass, Rogers.”

You stifled a giggle at the two friends bickering. Before you knew it, the three of you arrived at the Expo. It was jaw-dropping and imposing. The lights, the inventions, the fireworks. Howard Stark sure knew how to put on a sensational show.

The inventions displayed at the Expo were astonishing and unprecedented. Flying cars, synthetic bodies, futuristic engines. You watched as Bucky marveled at the expeditions. He looked like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide and gleaming with excitement and mouth agape in wonder. The childlike enthusiasm and amazement in his eyes made you smile uncontrollably. You loved seeing him happy.

After a while, Steve left and Bucky went after him, concerned for him. Steve seemed in a bit of a haze, as if something was troubling him. He decided to not join you for the rest of the night.

“You know, he tried to enlist again this mornin’. God knows how many times he’s tried. He’s dead set on joining the army.”, Bucky explained.

“It kind of reminds me of someone”, you retorted.

“I’m just scared he’s way in over his head. War’s more brutal than some backalley. And if he keeps lying on enlistment forms they’ll either catch him or, God forbid, take him. It really gets on my nerves how thick-headed he is.”, Bucky said, looking down on his shoes.

“You know how Steve is. He has always had a fight in him. So have you. Steve wants to fight for what he believes is right. That’s his calling.”

“I’m worried sick he’ll get hurt and I won’t be there for him. He’s pretty keen on doing stupid things.”

“You’re a good friend, Buck.”

The two of you strolled around the Expo. Bucky, all giddy and excited, ran around telling you all about the fascinating inventions. He surely loved showing off to you. After a while, the conversation drifted elsewhere.

“Aren’t you scared? I mean, you said it yourself, war is brutal.”, you asked.

“I am. I couldn’t possibly not be.”, he chuckled almost nervously. “But it’s my duty to fight, the way it was my father’s before me. That’s one of the reasons I enlisted, you know. I wanted to finally make him proud. I had caused enough problems for him, especially after Ma died.”

“I don’t think that’s true. George loved you”

“I always got into trouble. After she passed away, I had to pretend everything is fine for Becca’s sake. But deep down I was scared and angry. Angry at everyone and everything. I would constantly get into fights, not unlike Steve. Maybe that’s why I’m so protective of him. I don’t want him to make the mistakes I did.”, he continued, head hanging down low. “Dad made a point of telling me how let down he was in me when I would come home wounded and bruised, but I don’t blame him. It’s just… His last words to me, before the accident, still ring in my head. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Bucky. You’ve really let me down here.’”, he muttered.

“You were a kid, Buck. You were processing so much grief and anger. You needed a way to unleash it. Sure, it wasn’t the best one. But you learned and grew from all this pain.”, you encouraged him.

“You’re pretty great, you know that?”, he chuckled, seemingly less on edge now. “I’ll miss you”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Barnes.”

“I’ll miss home, you know. You, Steve, Becca. But, at least, the thought of returning home will keep me going. God, I’ll miss you”

The two of you walked and talked for what seemed like hours, having a sincere heart to heart. After some time, you came across a photobooth. You both wanted to commemorate that night, so Bucky suggested taking a few pictures and you happily agreed.

You sat in the small, crammed space side by side. You placed your hand on his thigh, somewhat cheekily and he laid his head on your shoulder. You started taking pictures. While you were preoccupied with making silly faces for the camera, Bucky was busy keeping his eyes on you. You could feel his gaze on you, and, before you knew it, he laid a loving kiss on your cheek. He caught you by surprise, and the gentle touch of his lips on your cheek resulted in a toothy, ear-to-ear grin spreading across yours. You turned to him, seeing him beam at you adoringly.

You could never get over how utterly and ridiculously impeccable and downright perfect he looked. His features were flawless. His piercing eyes were a breathtaking bright, steely blue. They glimmered in moments like these, when he was serene and content. The affectionate looks he gave you made your heart skip several beats. His rosy lips were soft and his kisses were tender and so sweet, you thought he could give you toothaches by merely kissing you. His nose was cute as a button and it took genuine effort on your part to not gently peck it with every chance you get. His hair was a velvety and silky mess with a few curls here and there framing his face and you wanted to gently card your hair through it and mess it up even more. His jaw strong jaw and cute little buttchin were the cherry on top. Bucky called to mind those Hollywood actors audiences swooned at. He was truly a sight for sore eyes.

You ogled at him long enough that a faint blush rose on his cheeks. He looked ravishing and irresistible so, without delay, you fondly grasped his neck and drove him into a passionate kiss on the lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated, but delicate and mellow. He leaned into your touch, craving it, and lowly hummed in content and satisfaction, as he cupped and caressed your cheek.

He pulled away with a delighted smile on his face. Both your hearts were bursting at their seams with pure, sheer love and affection for each other. That love transcended anything superficial, like looks or charm. Bucky had a heart of gold and sometimes it was too heavy for his own good. He cared so much for others that it took a toll on himself. But he was sincerely kind hearted and caring. You genuinely admired and appreciated him for that. He’s extremely loyal and devoted. He never gave up on anyone, not Steve nor his sister nor you. He was thrice as strong emotionally as he was physically, having to go through all that pain and despair and still be his sister’s rock. Bucky was an angel and he deserved the purest and sweetest love there is. And you wanted nothing more than to give him that.

Bucky grabbed the photos with a small smile on his features.

“You look nice”, he complemented.

“Not nearly as nice as you”, you replied, the words escaping your mouth before you knew it.

The grin disappeared from his lips in realization. The night was drawing to a close and he’d never get to share one with you for the foreseeable future. He started holding onto those photos a little harder now.

“There you go.”, he said. moving his hand to give them to you.

“Keep them”, you retorted. “To remember me while you’re away.”

“To be frank, sweetheart, I don’t think I’d be able to forget you. In fact, I think I’d struggle to think of something else.”, he chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #fanfiction #fluff #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

829

Are you the type of person who gets straight to the point? For the most part, yeah. I’m a little impatient and quickly get annoyed when people go around in circles. What was the last thing you said in complete caps? It was probably the conversation I had with Angela this morning since we talk in all caps 97% of the time. The subject of the conversation is a bit of an inside joke though so it’ll be complicated just to start explaining it. Do you enjoy playing board games? Not really. I’m bad at following instructions so I’m mostly uninterested when someone tries to explain a new board game to me. I stick with the ones I already know, which aren’t a lot. Are there any movies you are wanting to see? Yeah but not any upcoming ones (if there are even any). My film queue is full of stuff that’s been released in the past, and the ‘My List’ section on my Netflix for instance has movies like Rosemary’s Baby, The Pianist, The Truman Show, V for Vendetta, etc. Do you live closer to the Atlantic Ocean or the Pacific Ocean? Pacific. I’m nowhere near the Atlantic Ocean.

Who was the last contact you stored into your cell phone, if you have one? The makeup artist who did my hair and makeup for my test grad shoot last December. My mom loved how I look so she had me ask for their contact just in case she needs it for future events. Did you wear anything new today? Nope, because I’ve been home for the last three months. That sounds more and more ridiculous to say each day... Would you ever have a calendar in your car? No, that’s what my phone is for. I think having a calendar in my car would be highly distracting too? What was the last song you sang along to? I’m not sure, I don’t think I listened to music today or yesterday. My guess would be Saw You in a Dream - The Japanese House. Are you a fan of the band Taking Back Sunday? No, but I heard of them a lot when I was a younger teenager. Do you ever eavesdrop on people's conversations? I don’t usually get to because my hearing is bad lol, but if it’s juicy and if I caught the context I probably would. Aside from waking up, what was the first thing you did this morning? I hung out with Cooper. I’m officially in charge of playing with him whenever he’s awake haha. I’ve never cared for a puppy before so one thing I learned is it’s a lot like taking care of a newborn baby? Cooper’s routine so far has been sleep for 1-2 hours, play for 1, and repeat. Once we notice him getting up, I’m the fun mom that plays with him until he tires himself out. Are you good at playing Hide and Go Seek? I can be good at it but I generally don’t like playing it. I always feel anxious whenever the It gets warmer to wherever I’m hiding. Do you live in an apartment or a house? House. Is there a music artist that never seizes to amaze you? In recent years Paramore has been drastically changing their sound for every new album they put out, so I’m always excited when they have new material because they always hit it out of the park. At what time do you normally go to bed? It ranges between 12 and 2 AM. It’s no longer as late as before. What is the last magazine you read? I haven’t read a physical magazine in a year or two; but the last online version of a magazine that I checked out was Esquire. How many words do you type per minute? If I’m taking a speed typing test where I really have to type as fast as I possibly can, I can reach 80-90. I never have to type that fast though so my typing speed would definitely be considerably less. What is your favorite term of endearment? I like baby. Do you like Twizzlers? I got into them as a kid just because Kristen Stewart ate it in the Twilight movie LMAOOOOO. Fangirls are ridiculous. I’m honestly just fine with them, they’re not groundbreakingly good or anything. I don’t even think I’ve had them again since my Twilight phase. Who or what made you smile last? I took a peek at what my dad was making for dinner and I already know it’s gonna be so good. Have you ever seen the movie The Wicker Man? Nope. How many states are between the state you live in and Florida? *yawn* Another US-centric question; though I got a little curious and looked up the distance between Florida and Manila instead. Google says 14,717 km. Do you sneak in candy/soda when you go to the movies? You don’t have to sneak in any type of food when you go to the cinemas here since they allow you to bring in whatever you want. I once bought Cinnabon buns to watch Wonder Woman hahah. The only unofficial rule is just don’t bring something that’s gonna smell and distract everyone. What was the last song you had on repeat? Back To You - Louis Tomlinson because of a question I answered on a survey yesterday. Do you often have that song on repeat? In 2017 I sure did. I don’t encounter the song these days anymore unless I look it up myself on Spotify. What brand of lotion do you use? I don’t use lotion. Where are your favorite pair of jeans from? I’m not sure actually. It was my mom who saw it and she bought it when she thought of me, and I never thought to ask her where she got it from. Silly string or confetti? Like, for a party? Confetti looks nicer to me. What month is your best friend's birthday in? June and September. One a scale of 1 to 10, how tired are you right now? 12 from taking care of Cooper, 2 in general because I made coffee. How long is your favorite song? I don’t really pick favorite songs because I have at least one in my preferred genres at a time. Nachos or tacos? Nachos. Also because I miss Nacho. Whose wedding did you last attend? My uncle and his then-fiancée, now my aunt, but that was 2007. It’s my parents who get invited to a lot of weddings, but not me and my siblings. Are you a rebel? Not anymore. I definitely acted like one when I hit puberty though. Does it take you more or less than an hour to get ready for the day? Less. I usually savor my time in bed then hurry up once I’m about to be running late haha. I’m out the door by 15, 20 minutes. What was the highlight of your day today? Taking a survey this morning on the couch with Cooper napping beside me while Kimi was near my feet :) Do you tap your foot when you listen to music? No, especially not when I’m driving lmao. Would you rather use tape or glue? Tape, it’s more secure. Homemade or store bought cards? Either works fine because my ultimate takeaway is that at least someone thought of me. I would personally make homemade cards/letters though. When did you last eat popcorn? Sometime around Christmas. My mom started making us bowls of popcorn but we got tired of it pretty quickly so our popcorn binge only lasted over the break. Have you ever done community service? I’ve done it with my classmates for a class requirement, not because we did something bad and it was our punishment. Will you get your hair cut anytime soon? Nope, I just gave it a big haircut earlier this year. Are you uncoordinated? Mostly not, but I still have moments where I trip over air. Michael or Janet Jackson? Michael. I know Janet is crazy talented too but I just never started trying to get into her music. Do you listen to any hip hop? Just some. What will you be doing at this time tomorrow? Most likely doing surveys too, as is routine. Have you ever listened to Jane's Addiction? I haven’t. Orange or purple? Purple. & - the typical ending to my surveys - how about some lyrics? “There’s just no future left for us to dream of, living in an era of instability / So caught up in the culture of their rivals, fear breeds in honest men.” From High Pressure Low - Against Me! Been thinking about these lyrics for the last few days.

#survey #surveys

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kotas-dump · 5 years

Text

Masked

For as long as you could remember you have hidden your face behind a mask. It was tradition, custom reaching back as far as you could remember. Even today you couldn't bare to leave your bedroom without it firmly in place. It grew to be your identity. The face that represented you growing up and now it represented your family trade. Messenger birds.

Business had been booming since the rebellion kicked up and you'd been dragged off to some ‘warfort’, more like a huge castle, at your father's request. There you hid away in the lofty tower room reserved for the birds toward the back near the ramparts. There you trained ravens who were sent to lands far off with messages of the utmost urgency, possibly to never return.

Sitting at your desk you sighed and watched the fluffy white clouds roll across the sky. On days like this it was hard to imagine you were stuck in some fort on the top of a mountain. Straightening your supplies you stood up and brushed dust off your embroidered gown. Might as well go for a walk and get some lunch. Grabbing a delicate silk scarf you wrapped it around your arms and turned to check yourself out in the small mirror that hung on the stone wall.

Since business had been booming due to the uprising your family had sent you more elaborate gowns despite your wishes. Today you wore one of the more simple ones. A dark black gown with gold embroidery on the cuffs and on the belt tied around your waist. Even the scarf that hid your hair and neck had intricate gold embroidered feathers dancing along the hem.

Sighing you pulled the plain silk scarf around you tighter, grabbed your journal and a pencil, and started down the stairs.

"Heading out?" The familiar guard asked as he heard your steps. He was a short but sweet orc with tiny tusks. Probably a half breed but you weren’t nosy enough to ask.

"Just for a walk to the tavern." You answer with a smile he couldn't see behind the extended beak of your bird-like mask.

As you walk past the guard shakes his head. "Don't stay out to late this time. The mercenary group Korig brought in has a werewolf who's been getting real rowdy after dark. I- Just be careful."

Rolling your eyes you laugh. "Maybe I should wear my silver gown next time." You reply as you open the door to the outside. Glancing back you wave again but his face is confused. "You know...I don't actually have a silver gown."

The orc laughed, holding his free hand up while the other remained firm on the axe at his hip. "I wasn't going to say anything!"

"You thought it!" You laughed, shaking your head and leaving.

Through the door you hear him holler out. "I didn't say anything though!"

Orcs! Sighing you head down the interior ramp and out into the courtyard. Taking a deep breath you smiled. The air was nice and fresh up here in the mountains and with the sun beaming down it was perfect.

As soon as you got close to the tavern you could smell the savory stew, the simple but delicious buttered yeast rolls. Your stomach rumbled and you quickly hurried in. Seating yourself at a table tucked next to the window you placed your order and waited. Sometimes you wondered if they ordered the honey wine just for you...they probably did.

Looking around you quickly spot the mercenaries. A ragtag group who occupied the other side of the tavern, slightly hidden by the nearby staircase. Sure enough there was a werewolf. One who didn't bother to hide his hairy chest or the ears the swiveled around every now and then. Also among the group was an angry looking goblin, a tall minotaur, an orc who rivaled the minotaur, two humans, and a Hoiten. Hoiten were rare to see outside their underground capital. They were a sly race of people who looked like someone had cross breed elves, giants and some unknown deep cave dwelling creature. Their skin was smooth but shimmered like opals in the flickering firelight. Their face devoid of any recognizable features save their two black eyes and a pair of lips. Most races wanted nothing to do with them as they were notorious for their uncanny ability to see right to your very core and read you like a book. It was a sort of magic even the elves couldn't crack.

As you waited for your food you opened your journal to a fresh page and began to sketch. You'd never seen a Hoiten before so you started with them. Taking a break for your food you flipped to a new page and looked over the group again suddenly glad the tavern had filled up a bit more. The orc was clearly the leader. He lounged in a large chair he must have brought himself. Leaning against the armrest with his chin on the back of his hand. He watched the tavern folks too, when he wasn't drinking and laughing with his crew.

Naturally, a softie for big muscles and interesting poses you started to draw him. The man was covered in deep scars. One in particular he caught you staring at. It was a large gash down his forearm. Looking away quickly you felt your face flush red hot underneath the mask. Time slowed as you hoped he wouldn't think anything of it and sure enough he didn't. Went back to drinking. That was enough of drawing for the day. Closing your journal you stood up and went back to work. ---- A few weeks had passed and you fell into a predictable schedule. Walk up, dress, mask, birds, breakfast, birds again, lunch and drawing, birds, and then bed. Over and over again but every time you couldn't help yourself but to go down to the tavern and oogle the orc. You knew you shouldn't, especially this merc, but how could you resist the mystery of it all? The stories you came up with in your head of how he earned every scar couldn't compare to the real stories they told. You found yourself eavesdropping more often than would be acceptable. Staying out later and later each time.

Rouge adventures, laughing stories of their mistakes, the stories of completely raunchy and filthy...romance they'd spew left you craving more. It was a window into another world, one you'd never get to see otherwise so why not indulge in the guilty pleasure while they were here?

However, your recurring visits and suspicious behavior didn't go unnoticed. You found that whenever you weren't in your loft that the Hoiten wasn't to far. Those inky black eyes following you everywhere you went. Even to the marketplace.

You had nothing to hide but to say it didn't worry you was a lie.

So you'd backed off for a few days. Nearly going stir crazy without your daily eye candy and story binge. Cracking under your own house arrest you grabbed your journal, dressed in your nicest gown and headed down to the tavern for dinner. Plopping yourself back into your usually seat you oh so casually glanced around to see who was here, if HE was here.

His grey eyes were already locked onto you, an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart stopped and fear made your blood turn to ice.

The human tavern woman came up to you with a smile. "You're usual Madam?...Madam?"

Turning to the voice you stared in confusion. "I beg your pardon? Oh. Yes please. Thank you." Swallowing thickly you nod and stare down at your journal before sneaking a glance over to the orc. His cold steely gaze still resting firmly on you. The Hoiten stood beside him, scaled hand resting on the orc's shoulder as they spoke in a voice to soft for you to hear.

With a groan the Orc brushed off the hand and stood. Quickly you opened your journal and flipped through the pages to a clean one, writting down an to-do list to act like you hadn't been watching them.

The heavy thuds only came closer.

Your heart, once stopped dead, began to race like a rabbit through the brush.

The steps came to a halt as a shadow fell over your journal. May the gods have mercy on your soul. Looking up you were glad your mask hid the fear on your face right now. "May I help you good Sir?" Thank goodness your voice didn't waver.

The orc leaned in, snatching the book from the table before you could stop him. "Oh! I wouldn't-" You begin but his sharp glare shuts your mouth.

Turning his attention back to the book he flips through the first few pages. Mostly sketches of your birds and of the view outside your window. "Who are you?" His voice is low but surprisingly higher than you expected from an orc his size. You're to stunned to speak and he glances over to you.

"Could I just- If I may- It is mine... after all." You reach for your book and he pulls it from your reach.

The orc grunts, holding the book out of your reach and continuing to flip through the pages. "I asked a question." He's reached the sketches of him and he stops.

"I-I'm Amornth of House Jordaan and this is NOT an acceptable way to trea-"

"Shut up." He snaps, flipping the page.

Huffing you cross your arms. "First you have me followed and now you steal my things?" You frown.

Rolling his eyes he walks off, book in hand, back to his seat.

Shocked you sit there dumbfounded. A moment later the bar maid brings out your food and sets it down infront of you. "If it’s any consolation hun. He's not nearly as scary as he seems."

"W-what?" You quickly pull the wine toward you, pushing the beak of your mask to the side and downing the glass. Gods knew you were going to need some liquid courage if you were going to get your journal back. You WERE going to get it back.

"You know who i'm talking about. Hell, between him and that werewolf he's bed down half the castle already." Laughing the woman nudges your shoulder. "I know your people are rather up your own ass but give it a go. The best ride you'll ever have."

"I-I beg your pardon?" you snort. "I'd never-"

"Oh right. You'd never do that. Only oogle him every day like he's some puppy in a window and your a kid who's father said no dogs. We get it." The barmaid rolls her eyes. "Buy the damn dog. Gods know you can afford it." Scoffing she gives a dismissive wave and fills your wine glass again before leaving.

This day was....was something else. You find yourself laughing and shaking your head. After you eat... after you eat you'd get your book back.

It was the longest damn meal of your life and by the end of it you'd drank over half the bottle of wine if not the whole damn bottle. When you stood to finally confront him the world shifted and you staggered. Grabbing the table for support.

Head up, back straight and remember your manners! Taking a deep breath you try again. This time you were ready and you marched right up to the orc.

The book lay on the armrest next to an arm that was as thicker than your head.

"You're not half bad you know."

You'd open your mouth to demand your book back but his words paired with the smirk on his face threw you completely off-kilter. "What?!" You snapped. Manners thrown right out the window. Was he really starting this conversation with a crass remark?

Beside you the Hoiten made a snorting sound.

The orc glanced to his companion and then back to you, holding out your book. "Your drawings. They're good."

"Yeah I like the one where he's naked." The werewolf laughs, taking a swig from his beer.

Flushing you scoff. "It's unfinished! He is NOT naked!"

The Hoiten is dying now, a chittering of laughter bubbling from them.

"Not yet anyways." The orc winks. "But i'm serious. You could make money with skill like that."

"An Orian like her? Why would she need it!?" The brown haired human laughs.

"She's practically dripping in precious metals De'ruk! Use your damn eyes for once you dumb orc." The blond adds, knocking shoulders with her human partner as they both dissolve into a fit of laughter.

Your blood began to boil and your lips pulled into a scowl. "Expecting class from a group of tools for hire is like expecting a broom to talk." You huff, snatching your book from the orc.

Leaning back in his chair the orc laughs. "I am curious though...Can you be satisfied with just drawings?" His voice turns seductive and the way he's smirking is just as repulsive.

Glaring you huff. "As if you could satisfy your own right hand let alone- Augh. You all are terrible." They're all looking at you, smiles on their faces and a knowing look in their eyes.

De'ruk humms and stands, closing the distance between you two in a simple step.

"Augh there he goes again. I'm going to yak." The Minotaur groans, rolling his eyes.

The orc reaches for your mask as you reach for the dagger hidden in the gathering of your skirt. As he grabs hold of the mask you press the point of the dagger into his side and he freezes.

"I like her." The goblin claps, "Put him in his place! Stab him! Stab him!" The rest of the group joins in on their chant and the minotaur and Hoiten both shake their head.

The two of you stare off, a silent fight of who with cave or call. He begins to pull your mask up, barely even catching a glimpse of your lips before-

A. Stab him! Stab him! B. You let him lift your mask and snog that orc face!! C. Run. D. Comment below!

#Here i go again with things i want to try but never end up sticking to #terato #orc #fantasy #reader insert #i was inspiried by dragon age orlais and arabic fashion and why not #i love the concept of orlais but without the game being the center of it all #and i felt the two would mesh well

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filzmonster · 7 years

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Pandora Hearts Month, Last Week: Childhood/Old Days

→ lionhearted; (read on A03) » As she grows, from child to girl to woman, she re-learns the role she can play in a family; realizes that she’s not the burden here, not the distortion; she is not a mother, she knows that and she would never dare to take that place in someone’s life. But she tries to be a big sister. Simply someone who cares and protects and soothes nightmares and fills this place, this household with warmth and love. || Lottie Baskerville, a perspective.

» and we walk together into the light; and my love will be your armour tonight; we are lionhearts. and we stand together facing a war; and our love is gonna conquer it all; we are l i o n h e a r t s;

Her own childhood is nothing but brutal.

It’s like a stain splattered across her memories in a dark, crimson red. She remembers her family in broken pieces, the way her father looks at her the way he looks at every girl, her mother’s cruel words (you’re disgusting, you’re ruined, you don’t deserve anything, you weren’t supposed to be born, you’re a waste of space) and how her siblings always kept away, always managed to keep a distance between them and her.

Bad Luck is wrapped around her feet like a well fitting pair of shoes. Wherever she goes, she destroys people’s lives. Her own is never directly affected though, she never breaks her own bones by accident but her youngest sister falls down a flight of stairs and shatters her knee. Her father gets sick a day after he sneaked into her room for the first time. A part of her thinks he deserves it (her mother is trying her best to beat that part out of her).

Still, the thought of running away never occurs to her. She’s six years old and smart and she knows she’s not grown into her womanhood enough yet to survive on her own. She keeps it as a possibility though, like a lucky charm in the depth of her pocket; her first real secret.

Her second secret happens when she’s eight.

It’s her clearest memory, sharper than anything else; a crystal in a collection of pearls and rubies and dirty pebbles.

She’s hiding in the woods, surrounded by wild roses and damp grass, when the Light appears in the last rays of sunshine filtered through the leaves. Tiny specks of Gold flicker through the air, dancing around the trees like lost fireflies. On a whim, she gets up and dances with them, twirls and bathes in their radiating glow until she’s dizzy and her bare feet are bleeding again, staining the grass between her toes dark with blood.

And then the Light enters her body and it changes her.

When she gets out of the woods, she’s not on her way home but on her way home.

The Baskervilles take her in as if she’s always been a part of this family and after a while, she starts to think so, too. This is her life, and it started out on pain and bad luck, but eventually, the Light led her to the place where she belonged.

As she grows, from child to girl to woman, she re-learns the role she can play in a family; realizes that she’s not the burden here, not the distortion; she is not a mother, she knows that and she would never dare to take that place in someone’s life. But she tries to be a big sister. Simply someone who cares and protects and soothes nightmares and fills this place, this household with warmth and love.

She supports and is supported, and this is her family.

There’s Leon who walks out of the Darkness for her and melts with her heart and shows her that she’s a lioness, a force to be reckoned with.

There’s Doug who doesn’t say much but he’s always there with his quiet presence and makes sure she never feels lonely.

There’s Lily who arrives with hair like a bird’s nest and the Devil’s mark on her face and a naïvety Lottie vows to preserve for as long as she can.

There’s Fang who is endlessly kind and treats the world around him with nothing but gentleness (she ignores the way he looks at her because she can’t look back).

There’s Jack, the nuisance, the intruder, the man who drags parts of the world outside into their little paradise and she is so thankful for his shattered pieces of a different reality.

And then, of course, there’s Master Glen, and he’s the centre of it all, the sun in the sky, and even though she doesn’t dare to get too close to him she can’t help but stay in his periphery where the burning is just strongenough to not set her aflame.

This is the world she’s built for herself, and she is content with it’s clean cut edges.

(She will long for the simplicity of those days.)

***

The last day of summer is just warm enough to be spent in the half-shadows of the mansion’s garden. The air is heavy and tastes like a million of flowers in full bloom just waiting to be picked and the clear blue sky is dotted with cotton candy clouds. It’s a day out of a children’s fairy tale book.

Lottie knows that Jack has come by for a visit, but she hasn’t seen him yet; he’s probably off to bug Master Glen and she’s already thinking about a way to punish him for that later. For now, though, she’s sitting in the grass, her pink dress draped around her like rose petals, a pile of flowers in her lap and Leon curled against her back.

Lily and Bandersnatch are running around, barefooted in the grass, with Fang and Tove chasing them. They occasionally run up to Lottie and drop more flowers into her lap, curiously watch for a few moments how she weaves them together and then run off again, their laughter filling the air like a powerful melody. Dug is a few feet away, leaning against the trunk of a tree in the shadow, peacefully dozing, but Lottie can sense him peeking at her and the others every now and then. He’s always doing this, making sure everyone’s still here and safe; not that they are in any danger but Lottie knows that old habits die hard – she still feels a moment of pure fear whenever the door to her room opens unexpectedly.

The act of braiding flower crowns is just easy enough to allow her mind to wander off in other directions, but somehow she finds herself locked in the present. When she’s done with the first one she calls for Lily.

“Let me see if it fits you.”

The little girl skips over with shining eyes and crouches down in front of Lottie.

“This is so pretty!” Lily chirps happily and reaches for the band of orange and yellow and purple and pink and red flowers. It immediately tears in her grip and dissolves into nothing but blossoms and stalks.

“Waaah!” The look on Lily’s face speaks of utter terror; Lottie can’t help but giggle.

“Come on, sit down”, she says softly and gestures for Lily to kneel down in front of her. “I’ll show you how to make a new one.”

Lily hesitates and looks at Fang as if silently asking for permission to interrupt their playing for the sake of making flower crowns with Lottie. Fang smiles and sits down next to Lily, already reaching for a couple of flowers.

“I want to learn, too”, he says seriously, but Lottie can see the amusement in his eyes. It’s enough to make her giggle again.

“You can make one for Dug, then”, she suggests and grabs two flowers herself. Lily has already gathered a pile in front of her and is looking at them expectantly.

Lottie takes it in for a tiny second, the utter perfection of this moment, and then starts weaving and explaining.

“You start like this …”

They braid in silence after she’s taught them the basics; probably because Lily is so concentrated on making the flower crown that she doesn’t have any capacity left for her usual chatting and Fang always knows when silence is better than a cascade of words.

Lottie enjoys this; she likes the silky petals between her fingertips, likes how every cut on a rose’s thorn disappears in an instant and reminds her of her own invincibility, likes the routine her hands are used to by now, likes the sun on her skin and the company of her family. She’s halfway done with her second flower crown when she hears the faint rustling of moving branches and children’s laughter.

It takes two little boys to stumble out of a nearby bush for her to realize that it’s Gilbert and Vincent. They have flushed faces and leaves stuck in their hair, and it takes them a moment to realize that they’ve come across a little gathering.

Their reactions are adorable.

Gilbert immediately blushes an even darker shade of red while Vincent freezes and seeks shelter behind his older brother.

“I – I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to intrude!”, Gilbert all but shouts his apology, eyes wide and the physical strain of not bowing his head visible in his trembling body. Vincent just inches even closer to his brother and even grabs onto his shoulders.

It takes all of Lottie’s willpower and manners to not burst out laughing.

These two boys are something she hasn’t quite figured out yet.

They’ve arrived barely a few months ago and have kept their distance so far; they have yet to lose that hostility and cautiousness their short life has taught them. It’s not a surprise, really; all Baskervilles are a distortion to the world around them, but Vincent bears the Red in his eye and therefore has an even bigger impact. It sets Vincent apart from the others, and Gilbert chose from moment one to stand with his brother at the sidelines rather then abandoning him (although, Lottie wonders if it’s been a conscious decision or if Gilbert has chosen subconsciously or out of pure instinct – because old habits die hard).

On any other day, Lottie would have shrugged off the boys’ apology as unnecessary and then let them run off to play by themselves again. But today doesn’t feel like any other day. Today feels like the last day of summer and Fang is already smiling at her knowingly while Lily is a ball of pure curiosity. A glance at Dug tells her that he’s watching them, too, quietly waiting.

There’s a distance between those two boys and the rest of the Baskervilles. Simply because they are always sticking to each other and as his personal valet Gilbert is usually sticking to Master Glen. But she can’t help but feel that it’d be not that bad if she got them to spend more time with everyone else, too. Blurred the line between Gilbert and Vincent and the rest of the world just a bit.

Lottie smiles and gives her best to forget that the flustered boy in front of her is going to be her next Master Glen (she tries to imagine it for a moment but it’s impossible).

“Don’t worry, you’re not intruding anything. You can come and join us, if you want to?”

The offer hangs in the air between them like a lifeline thrown towards a drowning man. Lottie can see the calculation in Gilbert’s eyes, the hesitation when he turns to Vincent and hands over the lifeline to him, drops both of their lives in his small hands that are still clutching his older brother’s shoulders.

Vincent nods and saves them both.

“Thank you, we would love to” Gilbert says politely as if the wordless exchange between him and his brother never happened. He grabs Vincent’s hand and drags him along as he walks over and curiously looks down at the flowers scattered around them.

“We’re making flower crowns!” Lily explains excited and shows him the ring of flowers she’s already braided.

“Flower crowns” Gilbert repeats with a blank look on his face and it’s clear that this boy has never seen a flower crown in his life. Lily takes his confusion as encouragement.

“Yes! You pick a bunch of flowers and then you braid them into a crown! They are pretty and smell nice!”

It’s the simple logic of a child and Gilbert is not immune to it yet.

“Can … anyone make a flower crown?”, he asks tentatively and eyes Lily’s finished one with awe and scepticism.

Lily nods aggressively. “Yes, of course! And everyone likes them!”

Those seem to be the words that undo Gilbert, because the wariness on his face is replaced by a radiant joy. “Does this mean I can make one for Master?”

(Lottie’s notices the way he doesn’t say Master Glen but simply Master, as if Glen doesn’t matter to Gilbert, doesn’t make a difference.)

Lily nods again and jumps to her feet. “I will help you pick the right flowers”, she offers and beams when Gilbert nods enthusiastically.

“Can I come, too?” Vincent suddenly joins them, his voice thin and shy as if he doesn’t dare to try his luck. “I want to make one for Gil!”

The three of them run off, Bandersnatch on their heels, their laughter still audible after they’ve long disappeared from view.

Lottie picks up her flower crown again and resumes braiding the last couple of roses into the string of pink gerbera.

She’s about to fill in the gaps with lavender when the children return, arms overflowing with flowers and smiling from ear to ear. Fang laughs at them and praises them for their hard work. They sit down and Lottie explains one more time how to weave the long stalks together and then they sit in a circle around a pile of beautiful flowers and braid, but not in silence anymore.

It feels a bit like weaving people together.

Of course Lottie and Fang are done with their flower crowns long before the children are, so they quietly go over to Dug and sit down next to him in the shadow of the tree. Fang drops the flower crown he made onto his head, as promised, and grins when Dug scratches at the tingling petals.

“Who are you giving yours?”, Fang asks gently and she can feel the weight of his eyes on her.

She straightens her dress absentmindedly, her eyes on the three children in the sun. Gilbert is already wearing a flower crown that Vincent has made and is currently making one for Vincent; the one he’s already made for Master Glen lays in the grass next to him, carefully put out of harm’s way. Vincent is currently making a flower crown for Jack who, in Lottie’s eyes, doesn’t deserve one. His cheeks have been adorably red ever since he’s given his first one to Gilbert. Lily has given her first flower crown to Lottie who is still wearing it even though she can already feel it falling apart on top of her hair. Bandersnatch also already got one but he’s more interested in chewing the flowers than in wearing it over his ears. Her third one, Lily is making for herself.

“Well, I thought I could give it to Master Glen”, Lottie says carefully, trying not to blush. “But since Gilbert’s going to do that already … I guess you can have it.”

She holds out her arm, the flower crown resting in her palm, but refuses to look at Fang or to acknowledge the heat in her cheeks.

Fang takes the flower crown carefully, and her heart flutters in her chest even though it’s not supposed to.

This is how Master Glen and Jack find them not much later.

While Master Glen only looks at them with his usual stern face, not even an eyebrow raised at the picture of six of his Baskervilles with flower crowns in their hair, Jack’s reaction is much more vivid.

“Oh, there you are!” he exclaims and crouches down in front of Gilbert and Vincent. Lily, who’s distanced herself at the two men’s arrival, watches him suspiciously. She hasn’t been formerly introduced to Jack yet, but he ignores her anyway.

“I wanted to say goodbye before I leave! Did you enjoy your free day then?”

He musses up Vincent’s and Gilbert’s hair, careful to not ruin the flower crowns they are still wearing.

Vincent nods enthusiastically, obviously enchanted by this man. Gilbert nods, too, but his eyes are focused on Master Glen, as if he can’t look at anything else now that his Master is there (Lottie is familiar with this feeling).

“Lottie taught us how to make flower crowns!” he tells them.

Master Glen shoots her a strange look and she feels herself vibrate under his gaze.

“Did she now?”, he asks rhetorically, but Gilbert nods again.

“Yes! I even made one for you, Master!”

And then, with the unwavering doubt of someone who knows he’s created something the other person will love, he hands over the flower crown to Master Glen, a proud grin on his face.

All eyes are on Master Glen, Lottie can feel it, even Jack is watching his friend with an intensity that seems to scream Don’t you dare mess this up, I will kill you if you ruin this moment for Gilbert.

But Master Glen seems to be oblivious to the tension around him. He’s completely captured by Gilbert and the flower crown that is presented to him. He takes it with careful hands and puts it on his head, smiling softly when the bright petals touch his hair. “Thank you, Gilbert”, he says seriously. “I love it.”

Lottie can feel the relief flood the atmosphere like rain in the desert, and smiles.

She feels Dug next to her stifle a laugh and knows that Fang is also doing his best to hide a grin. Jack isn’t even trying to conceal the broad smirk on his lips when he pats Master Glen on the back. Lily is too young to understand the situation completely, but she gives Gilbert a bright, proud smile, happy for his success.

In the late afternoon sun, Lottie is engulfed by the light of her family. She wears roses in her hair and love in her heart.

A few weeks later, when the Darkness swallows her for years and years and years, she thinks about this day in the sun.

***

When the Darkness lets go of her after an eternity, everything’s gone and her hands are stained with blood; the first rays of sunshine she sees are enough to make her cry.

But Dug is here and Fang, too, as they always are, and she manages to pull through, manages to pick up her own jigsaw pieces and puts them back together; they don’t quite make the picture they’ve made before, it’s darker and there’s much more red, but it’s all she can manage and it will have to do.

They have a mission, after all.

It’s no surprise to Lottie when they find Vincent, and in his company Zwei. It is, however, a surprise to find Gilbert not with him.

Gilbert who was supposed to be their next Master Glen. Gilbert who was inseparable from his younger brother.

Gilbert who has lost his memories and got himself attached to the blonde Vessalius boy they had to cast into the Abyss.

It’s a mess and Lottie is too tired to pick up those shards, too. She’s got her hands full with finding her Master and keeping Pandora off their backs and trying to make sense out of everything and holding what’s left of her family together as good as she can.

Ten years pass and she’s kept her distance to Gilbert, as promised to Vincent, but when things are set into motion by Oz Vessalius’ return from the Abyss, she can’t help but run into him again.

It’s the first time she sees him as a grown man, from afar and dressed in a ridiculous school uniform, but still undeniably Gilbert.

And Vincent looks good in his adulthood but he’s nothing compared to his older brother. Gilbert is tall and handsome and broody and just so Master Glen it almost hurts. How this man doesn’t set his memories free by just looking in a mirror is a mystery to Lottie. She has to stare at him for a solid five minutes until the image of her Master fades and leaves the small boy from so long ago in its place. A part of her mourns this child. Another part calls him a traitor.

(A third part has already forgiven him.)

After the little incident at Lutwidge Academy everything happens in a chain reaction, the trigger in the hands of Oz Vessalius, and it’s all Lottie can do to get from one explosion to the next until there’s no more gunpowder left and she finds herself standing in the ruins of Sablier once more. She has lost Fang to the Darkness or the Light, she’s long lost the ability to differentiate. That’s okay, though, the world is woven together with more threads than black and gold and crimson red.

When the sun rises over this wasteland again, she smiles at a new, more colourful future.

***

Three nights after they’ve restored the Light they decide it’s finally time to share the last bits of knowledge with the others. There are still a few things missing to finally complete the picture, a few colourless spots on the canvas.

They gather at the Rainsworth Manor; Lottie, Dug, Lily and Master Leo and Vincent, and Sharon and Reim and Gilbert, and it’s the first time Lottie notices how small their group has become in comparison to her group. Then she remembers that she doesn’t have to divide all of them into us and them anymore, and smiles.

At first it’s a bit uncomfortable, sitting and drinking with them while they try to understand everything, but after they’ve emptied the first bottle of wine, it’s not an issue anymore.

They open the third bottle of wine after they are done telling stories. Lottie starts to think that if they continue like this, they won’t remember everything they’ve talked about in the past few hours, but Reim has been constantly scribbling in his notebook, so maybe memories won’t be an issue.

It’s quite the situation she finds herself in; Lily, who wasn’t allowed to have one sip of the wine, is peacefully sleeping in Dug’s lap. Dug himself his dozing, too, half draped over his chair, half draped over Lily’s now empty one. His face is reddened by the alcohol and he’s drooling onto Lily’s hair. Master Leo sitting on a settee with Sharon and they are both very engaged in a conversation about a certain book – Lottie has long since stopped paying attention which book they are talking about at this point. Vincent an Reim seem to be relatively sober, they are playing chess at the table, but when Lottie takes a second look she notices that none of the pieces are where they are supposed to be nor are they moved as they are supposed to be moved. So much for relatively sober.

It takes her a second look around the room to realize that Gilbert is missing. She notices the open door to the balcony and stands up. For a moment the whole world tilts and spins and twirls around her, then she catches herself again and remembers that she, too, has a lot of wine running through her veins at the moment.

She takes a few tentative steps until she’s used to her strange balance, then she steps out into the night.

Gilbert is standing with his back against the railing, looking up to the sky while the cigarette smoke dances around his face, a bright ribbon of silk against the night. There’s a sadness to Gilbert these days; wrapped around him like a crimson cloak.

“I thought you wanted to quit” Lottie says as she steps next to him.

“Lifetimes ago” Gilbert answers with a smile and takes another drag, almost rebelliously blowing out the smoke through his lips.

Lottie laughs and the sound fills the air, wanders up to the sky alongside the smoke where it fades into nothingness.

“After we ran into you at Lutwidge Academy we spent the night drinking in that exact room” Gilbert finally says after a moment of silence, his eyes filled with nostalgia and grief.

“That was the first time I saw you again after I fell into the Abyss” Lottie admits, relieved that she can finally share this with him.

Gilbert turns his head and looks at her surprised, the grief turning into nostalgia and melancholia.

“Why did you never tell me?” Who I am and who I was supposed to be?

She shrugs. “Vincent asked us not to and we figured you’d remember eventually, so it didn’t really matter. Besides, would you have accepted it?”

He seems to think about it for a while and then shakes his head. “I don’t think I was ready back then.”

He flicks his finished cigarette off, down the balcony and into the Rainsworth garden. It leaves a trail of glowing orange in the darkness, a tiny spark of gleaming light.

When he looks at her again, the gold in his eyes glistens in the night like that burnt cigarette.

“Do you remember that day we made flower crowns together?”

She does.

#pandoraheartsmonth #phm: last week #Childhood/Old Days #my writing #wow it's a good thing i don't need sleep otherwise this would have never been done in time #it started out with #'i want this to be angsty af'#and then it turned into #'everyone's sitting around making flower crowns'#so ---#whatever #look i really tried to not make this about gilbert #but come on #it's me you'Re talking to what did you expect??#somehoe this turned out to be 4k words long without any plot #i'm so done #also lottie is my queen and i enjoyed writing about her immensely

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pervyking · 7 years

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The Romantic Vampire

Here is my first ever horror story for my Iron Writer Halloween Challenge!

The Romantic Vampire

Olivia Stables had always been fascinated with vampires. They were tall, dark, and handsome creatures of the night. With an alluring gaze and a sultry smile, they carried the promise of eternal youth at what was considered a terrible price. Olivia fell in love with vampires when she was five years old. Sitting in her room now, she could remember when she was flipping through channels late at night. She remembered she had to turn the volume down so she wouldn’t wake up anyone. While flipping through stations, she found a program with an extremely busty woman crammed into a tiny dress with hair that resembled a black beehive. After a few playfully risqué words from the busty host, the film started: Dracula. At five years old, Olivia was a pretty perceptive girl. She was able to keep up with the plot with relative ease. Whenever Dracula was on screen, his presence took her breath away. Frank Langella’s Dracula was magnetic, seductive, able to harness primal desire and manifest it; Olivia’s five-year-old brain was hypnotized. From that moment on, Olivia was obsessed with vampires.

With every passing year, Olivia’s obsession with vampires grew and grew. By the time she was twelve, her room had become a tribute to all things vampire. Images of Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee, and (of course) Frank Langella covered her walls. Autographed videos sat proudly on her DVD shelf, and little figurines were scattered to every corner of her room from her desk to her nightstand; even her alarm clock depicted the visage of Bela Lugosi’s Dracula – repeating “I don’t drink wine,” every hour on the hour.

Now eighteen, Olivia was bound to leave home in Blacksburg, Massachusetts and enroll at Eden Community college. Her sister Natalie was already enrolled there and had promised they would get drunk off their asses as soon as she arrived. Olivia’s greatest concern was her collection of vampire memorabilia, but her mom assured her she would take care of her room. With that in mind, Olivia was able to pack with a relatively eased mind, though she would greatly miss her collection. With a wistful sigh, Olivia approached her poster of Frank Langella. He was standing there with his arms held open as if beckoning her, his white top loose and exposing his chest. With quivering lips, Olivia kissed the poster like she had done several times over the years.

“Now that just ain’t right,” a voice chortled.

Olivia turned around sharply to see the image of her best friend: Richard Farrow. He had been her best friend since the second grade. Because of that, Olivia’s parents often let him into the house with impunity. Gone was the twig boy with the Mad Magazine mascot’s face that she once knew. Richard was lean and dorkishly handsome, wearing a casual collared shirt, slacks, and loafers. Ever on the bridge of his nose was sunglasses. She always thought, what a fuckboy.

“You know, if you want to practice kissing…” Richard puckered his lips and sucked the air loudly.

Rolling her eyes, Olivia grumbled, “What do you want, Dick?”

“You’re about to leave for college, right?” he asked. “I just wanted to hang out with you before you head off.”

“I don’t leave until tomorrow, Dick.” Olivia immediately wrapped her arms around her best friend and hugged him tightly, but he quickly turned it from something innocent to something lecherous. His greedy hands grabbed her ass and squeezed hard. She pushed him back, screaming, “Damn it, Dick! I told you we’re not like that!”

Chuckling, he quipped, “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Anyway, you remember my dad, right?” he asked, casually shrugging off how he groped her.

“Of course.” Mr. Farrow was the curator of the Blacksburg Museum. It was one of the reasons why Richard had been unable to go to college straight away. His father had put him in an internship program that was to last for a year. Mr. Farrow clearly wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.

“Well, there’s going to be a super special exhibit starting in the middle of October.” Richard stood there in silence for a moment, clearly trying to draw out the moment.

“Spit it out already!” Olivia growled.

“The museum is hosting a vampire exhibit!” he exclaimed.

“No fucking way!” She nearly jumped up and down like a giddy school girl when she heard it. A vampire exhibit! Olivia’s excitement then faded… She was leaving tomorrow and he said the exhibit wouldn’t be open until the middle of the month. She collapsed on her bed in frustration, knowing she was going to miss the event of a lifetime.

Smirking, Richard said, “I know what you’re thinking. How can you see the exhibit before leaving? You’d need someone with access to the museum at all hours. Right?”

Realization kicked in when she realized what he was getting at. Richard could go in and out of the museum at his leisure. The lone security guard would think nothing of seeing Mr. Farrow’s pride and joy going about. Right when she was about to get up and give him a hug to thank him, Richard raised his right hand.

Smirking, always smirking when he was up to something, Richard said, “This isn’t free, mind you. I mean you are my best friend, but it’s my ass on the line if something goes to shit. So, here’s the deal. I get you in, you look at the exhibit, and all I ask for is a blowjob. Nice and simple.”

“Ungh!” Olivia grumbled in disgust. She began to wonder if the exhibit was worth the price. Her blue eyes lingering back at the beckoning image of Frank Langella’s Dracula, she sighed. It might be worth it, but she was sure as hell going to haggle. “A handjob, Dick.”

“A handjob is a handshake pretending to be a blowjob,” he whined. “Come on! I’m putting my ass on the line here. My dad could make me sign up for the army if he found out I was sneaking you in there.”

“Handjob.” With her arms crossed, she gave him the sternest look she possibly could. While she did love him, she found it damn annoying he always tried to weasel his way into her pants. He was a dick in more ways than one.

“Fine…” Richard accepted. He closed and locked the door behind him, making sure they weren’t interrupted, though Olivia’s mom was often lost in her own little world when her soaps were on. Grinning lecherously, he unbuckled his belt and yanked down his boxers, exposing himself to her. “I like my payments upfront.”

“Of course you do,” she shrugged. This is for the exhibit, this is for the exhibit, this is for the exhibit, she repeated over and over again in her mind.

_________________________________

Richard was a man of his word. At around 10:30 P.M., he swung by Olivia’s place to pick her up. When she came out the door, she took his breath away. Her hair was dyed purple and she wore heavy makeup that paled her skin. Ebony lipstick seemed to make her lips plusher somehow and the black mascara made her blue eyes so vibrant… She wore a white t-shirt underneath a leather jacket embroidered with the words “Fangs Rule,” on them. Most girls he knew wore shorts that could easily pass for underwear, but not Olivia. Her shorts went all the way down to her knees and her milky legs were exposed thanks to the fishnet stockings she wore. To complete her outfit was a pair of stiletto boots. Whenever he saw Olivia, it just took his breath away. Sure, she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. It was sleazy he made her give him a handjob, but he was content with that much at least…

She hopped into his car, wearing that infectious smile of hers and said, “Let’s get going! This is going to be so fucking awesome!”

“As the lady wishes,” he snickered. He virtually slammed his foot on the pedal, causing his Honda accord to zoom off!

Richard hated the dark, but Olivia seemed to love it. She rolled the window down and stuck her head out the window like a dog. She always told him that nighttime was the best. Something about the night always unnerved him. The way the sky looked like a swirling mass of blackness. Even now, the trees on the sidewalk swayed in the breeze. Autumn had left the trees bare. Each tree limb looked like some gnarled hand looking to grab some someone. Just thinking about it made him nervous. It was like the setting of one of those trashy vampire movies Olivia loved so much.

When they arrived at the museum, the parking lot was empty – as to be expected. The museum was a large, white-stoned structure that sprawled three feet. The Blacksburg Museum was one of the most prestigious museums in the state. It had artifacts and relics from all over the world, some on loan and some owned by his father. Despite all of that, the security was quite minimal. A single security officer was all that was ever needed. Sure, there had been a robbery or two in the past, but all it took was a flip of the switch at the authorities would be at the place in a matter of minutes.

“Alright, I’m going to head inside and make sure the coast is clear,” he told her.

“Got it.” She was grinning from ear to ear, the excitement all-too-apparent on her face.

Richard plucked the key from the ignition and then walked towards the sprawling stairs of the museum’s entrance. The outside camera was watching him, but he knew he could replace the recordings with dummy footage. Richard unlocked the glass doors and invited himself inside. He was immediately greeted with a scale model of a tyrannosaurus rex. The dinosaur exhibit was the most popular exhibit and was placed in the entrance. Dinosaur fossils were strewn about on displays along with clip notes for any eager visitor to read. Richard didn’t linger. He walked about the medieval exhibit and maneuvered past the Renaissance exhibit, eventually bumping into the portly security officer.

Hank Woodbury was in his late 40s with a bald head and a greying mustache that looked oddly fitting on his chubby face. Both hands occupied, Hank held a candy bar and a bottle of Pepsi. He didn’t eye Richard with suspicion, but why would he? His dad was the curator of the museum.

“Evenin’, Rich,” Hank said with a slight yawn. The graveyard shift was catching up with him. “What brings ya in this late?”

“You know how it goes,” Richard said with an exaggerated groan. “Dad left some papers in the vampire exhibit and I need to get them.”

“Mr. Farrow always forgets to sweat the little things,” Hank laughed. “I remember last week he left his checkbook in his office.”

“You’re telling me!” Richard agreed. “Going on break?” he asked, hopeful that Hank would poof. Hank’s break was supposed to be fifteen minutes, but he had a tendency to slack for half an hour. He confided in Richard that a twenty-minute nap would energize him for the rest of the night.

“Oh yeah!” Hank answered with an eager nod. “That’s a paid break, Kid. Gotta take it.”

“You have a good night, Hank,” Richard told him as he started walking again.

“Same to you, Rich.” Hank waddled off, clearly eager to get a quick nap in.

After maneuvering about the exhibit dedicated to Ancient Rome, Richard found what he was looking for. Red curtains had been drawn to give the exhibit an air of mystique. When the exhibit was ready for the public, fog machines would fill the immediate area with an eerie atmosphere. Parting the curtains, Richard venture inside screamed at the sight of what stood before him. A scowling corpse with outstretched arms lurched towards him. It took a moment to compose himself. In the darkened curtain, the waxy statue looked like a stiff corpse. Cursing, he walked around it. Trembling, he looked about to see other wax statues, each one depicting the hideous and fanged visage of a vampire. A display case on the right showed off a vampire hunting kit while another showcased an iron maiden allegedly used by the infamous Elizabeth Bathory. In the center of all this grisly madness was a plain, unadorned funeral box. Standing upright, the box was seven feet tall and three feet wide. The only distinguishable characteristic of the box was a shriveled piece of paper that was nailed to it.

“Get it together, Dick!” Richard chastised himself. “Okay, okay. The coast is clear.” Swallowing, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket and speed dialed Olivia. When she picked up, he said with as much confidence that he could muster, “The coast is clear. Get your purple ass in here.”

“Very funny!” she scoffed on the other end, though he could still hear the excitement in her voice.

Not too long after that call, Olivia came running past the curtains with all the giddiness of a schoolgirl. While Richard had screamed at the sight of the wax statue standing beyond the curtains, Olivia only squealed. She looked positively ecstatic.

“This is a Jiangshi,” she announced. “Not the most attractive guy in the world, but pretty interesting. It’s from China. It hops around with its arms stretched out to ensnare its next victim.”

“It hops?”

“And this pretty lady here!” Olivia hopped to the next statue. It depicted the image of a scowling woman cradling the an apparently dead infant in her arms. From the waist down, the figure had the body of a snake. “She’s Lamia. She was one of Zeus’ booty calls and his wife didn’t like that. Took all of Lamia’s babies away from her. Some accounts say Hera cursed her while others say Lamia’s grief consumed her and turned her into a monster.”

“You know your stuff...” Richard shrugged.

“And this funeral box. It’s… I’m not sure…” Olivia had approached the funeral box in the center of the exhibit. The box was old and weathered from clearly having been in the ground for centuries.

“Dad got that one from this old guy he met while on a trip to Greece,” Richard explained. “They hit it off pretty well and the old guy gave this box to my dad. Said, ‘The burden of my family will be your museum’s treasure,’ whatever that means.”

“Wanna open it?” Olivia joked, or at least he hoped she was joking.

“Sure, why not?” Richard facetiously retorted.

Before Richard could say another word, Olivia audaciously kicked the box open in her jubilation. Perhaps it was the excitement of the moment that dulled her mind. Either way, Richard was tugging at his hair. His heart was pounding like Neil Peart’s drums. Olivia only turned back at him and laughed. The box appeared unharmed despite the loud bang that resounded throughout.

“Are you crazy?!” Richard growled.

“Easy, Dick, I wasn’t going to really break it open,” she assured. “Give human ingenuity a little credit. This thing wasn’t going to break that easily.” As if on cue, the lid to the box suddenly fell off with a thunderous bang!

“Shit, shit, shit!” Olivia cursed. She clearly didn’t think her antics would lead to that. She Lifted the heavy lid with some difficulty, but found that it was unharmed, though the paper was torn somewhat. Olivia stopped in her tracks, however, when she peered into the box. Curiosity compelled Richard, causing him to look inside.

The inside of the funeral box was dusty and filled with cobwebs. Richard recoiled when he got a good look at what resided within. It was a corpse… It was a tall, dust-ridden, emaciated corpse... It looked like something dead a thousand years. The corpse’s face was unlike anything he had seen before. So different from the other skeletal specimens at the museum, the grinning skull’s teeth were yellow, dust-covered canines. Long, bat-like ears hung somewhat limply, looking ready to fall off. Its skin was gnarled, dried up as if left in the blazing sun for too long. Every rational part of Richard told him that this thing was dead, but it was as if some deep, primal fear had clutched his spin and told him that this thing was alive and he should run! Even though its eyes had long rotted away, Richard felt as if it was watching him.

“Holy shit…” Olivia looked just as reviled as him. The look of excitement that once painted her lovely face was gone. She looked a woman ready to vomit. Was it the sacrilege of opening a funeral box or the abnormal corpse’s ghoulish appearance that unsettled her? Richard was unsure.

“Let’s just put the box back together and get the fuck out of here!” Richard pleaded.

“Y-yeah…” Olivia shook her head in agreement. She looked at the corpse once more and slowly rose to her feet. She inched herself closer and closer to the dead thing. In a matter of seconds, she was face to face with the dusty, web-covered carcass. She puckered her lips and closed her eyes. Instantly, he imagined Olivia’s plush lips pressed against the thing’s rotten fangs, its body rocking forward and back in a grisly and disgusting display. Her breathing had quickened with each passing moment. Having had enough of this sick game, Richard tugged at her arm just before her lips could touch the thing.

“You’re a necrophile now?” Richard spat. He hated how she teased him. This had gone too far.

“Huh…?” Olivia shook her head feverishly. “What you talking about?”

Richard just rolled his eyes, having had enough of Olivia’s shenanigans. He picked up the lid and quickly placed it back on the funeral box. After a few tests, the lid remained intact. He sighed with relief, but he knew he would have to pay the security cameras a visit in the morning. Fortunately for him, Hank was pretty lazy.

“Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here!” he repeated.

“Yeah, you don’t need to ask me twice.” Olivia followed close behind him. She looked fatigued, as if struck by a strange languor. She had to be screwing around. Olivia would never kiss a corpse – at least one that didn’t look like Frank Langella. The most ludicrous idea did come to mind. The corpse spellbound her. It was such a silly thought that he found himself laughing all the way back to his car.

The drive back to Olivia’s place was uneventful with the two of them sitting in awkward silence. He occasionally glanced over to Olivia to see she just looked aloofly out the window. Richard knew he had quite a bit of work to do in the morning. He knew his father’s routine well. His father always got up at six. Richard had to get to the museum at five, replace the security footage with dummy footage, and pretend he was finally showing an interest in the museum to explain why he was there so early. It wouldn’t be too difficult.

Once they arrived at Olivia’s place, Richard said, “Alright.” He was unsure what else to say.

“Yeah,” she uttered. Getting out of the car, she looked back at him and said, “Thanks, Dick. I’ll come by to see you in the morning, kay?”

“Going to give me a goodbye kiss?” he quipped, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she snickered. “Alright, night, Dick. Love you.” She had that infectious smile on her face as she closed the door and walked off. He was going to miss Olivia when she was gone. They would always have Skype though.

_________________________________

Olivia had trouble sleeping that night. It was so rare. The images that decorated her room brought her comfort and warmth, but not they added to the unsettling feeling that swelled in her chest. The gnarled visage of Count Orlock from Nosferatu loomed over her. She hated that picture. It was the farthest thing from tall dark and handsome, but she hung it up in her room because it was essential to the vampire genre. Count Orlock’s rat-like snarl glared at her, reminding her of that shriveled up carcass back at the museum. For some reason, she couldn’t get that thing out of her head. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it, saw its grinning skull and rotten teeth. Her collection, her prized memorabilia should have brought her comfort – it didn’t. Somehow, she managed to get some sleep.

When the morning came, Olivia was a disheveled mess. Glancing at her mirror, she looked like a zombie. Bags circled her eyes, announcing her lack of sleep. Grumbling, she made her way to the bathroom and cleaned herself up. Slipping downstairs, Olivia poured herself a bowel of Count Chocula and scarfed it down. While eating, she thought about the museum. She really did screw Richard over. Why did she kick the box? She wasn’t thinking. It looked sturdy, old but sturdy. She had to apologize proper. After finishing breakfast, she darted outside and jumped into her Chevrolet Malibu.

As Olivia drove, she noted just how dark the morning was. The sun had yet come out, but it was almost seven. That was the magic of Autumn; the days were shorter and the nights were longer. The leaves that fluttered in the wind looked like poetry in motion to her. She arrived at the Farrow two-story suburbia, she parked her car and made her way to the front door. Right away, she noticed that Mr. Farrow’s Ford Mustang was still in the driveway; he was usually gone off to the museum by this time. She also noticed that Richard’s vehicle was right beside it in their expansive driveway.

Olivia’s plan was to find Richard, catch him unawares, scare the daylights out of him to schmooze things over, and then apologize proper. Digging in her pocket, she found her key to the Farrow residence. The Farrows and the Staples were very close. Mr. Farrow gave Olivia a spare key just to make sure his son didn’t stay cooped up in his room all day on his PS4, not that Olivia pried him away from it; she played along with him. Right when Olivia approached the door to slip the key in, it eased open with a deafening creak that seemed to echo down the quiet street.

Mildly concerned, Olivia eased inside. This wasn’t looking good. Her imagination was getting the best of her. A home break in, a robbery gone wrong. Mr. Farrow was a little absent-minded at times, but he would never forget to lock the door behind him – doubly for Richard. Peering in, she saw that nothing was out of place, nothing was stolen. The living room boasted a forty-inch HD TV, a gorgeous living room set, and rugs that looked expensively stitched but were more than likely purchased from Walmart. Nothing was off. Seeing the lights on in the kitchen, Olivia made her way there. Rational thinking kicked in at last. Maybe Richard or his dad left the door open by accident; after all, Olivia didn’t see the newspaper she knew Mr. Farrow was subscribed to. The fear that gripped her heart released her…

Olivia heard sizzling and smelled the unmistakable aroma of bacon. Maybe she could get herself a strip or two. Right before entering the kitchen, Olivia heard something…odd… The sizzling of the bacon nearly masked it, but she had good hearing. It was a squishy, slurping. Something, perhaps a primitive sense of preservation, told her not to enter the kitchen. Every fiber of her being said turn away, and yet mankind’s curiosity had propelled her forward, or at least forward enough to peer into the kitchen. She peered past the partially open door and covered her mouth to mute her gasp. What she saw couldn’t have possibly been real. It was a hallucination, a figment conjured up by too many years spent fiddling in her beloved vampires. Richard was lying limp on the ground, his skin as white as winter’s first snow. Hunched over him, glutting and gorging on his limp body was the corpse from the museum. A rotten, shriveled black tongue wriggled out of its mouth and lapped up the various oozing holes in Richard’s jugular, the corpse trembling in debauched delight. Tears immediately began to run down Olivia’s cheeks as she saw her best friend’s lifeblood nourishing the dead thing. With as much composure as she could, Olivia eased back. Fate, a fickle mistress, was against her. With the first step she took, the door creaked open and the dead thing snapped its blood-stained face at the door, staring at Olivia intently with its skull-grin.

Animals are hardwired for flight or flight. Fear paralyzed Olivia, paralyzing the part of brain that would have produced this ancient instinct. Dropping Richard without care, the dead thing stood up, towering over her at seven feet. With each step it took towards her, its black tongue, stained red with blood, caressed its yellow, rotted canines. Somehow, Olivia��s primordial response kicked in and she ran. She ran and ran without so much as looking back for the horror that loomed behind her would have killed her. This thing was not Bela Lugosi or Frank Langella; it was a horror from the ancient past, forgotten by history and returned to present day.

Mercifully, she made her way to her car and jumped in. The dead thing just stood at the doorway to the Farrow residence, just staring at her. Gasping and crying, Olivia drove off. What horror had been unleashed? Olivia sobbed, knowing that she couldn’t do anything. Who would believe her? She was the resident vampirephile. She drove and drove and drove until she no longer recognized where she was. Every time she closed her eyes, every time she blinked, she could see the bloody grin of the rotting dead thing…

#Iron Writer #Halloween #Story #The Romantic Vampire

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