#sense :P did make me less filled with dread about going to sleep though and now it's time GOODNIGHT

[narrators-journal]

Return to sender

CW: I’m bad at writing pregnancy stuff,

first part: here

previous part: here

Before you knew it, you'd been on your own for almost four months. God, it's been so long. You thought with a bit of fear as you drove home from the store in the swiftly waning light of evening, glancing at the passengers seat where bags of all of the supplies you had looked up for having a home birth. Which wasn't going to be fun, but going to a hospital meant paperwork and being kept in one place for an unknown amount of time, easily trackable, not to mention the hospital birth records would be perfectly accessible to the Zoldycks, meaning they could track down your baby. So, you were just going to bite the bullet and do it yourself. On the bright side, I have about 2 months to prepare and learn, so things will go great. You told yourself, sending a quick prayer to any god listening that you didn't face any complications, because you'd only gone to one doctor's appointment for the baby, and while it didn't show any bad omens for the birth, that had been ages ago, so you weren't really sure of how healthy your baby currently was. Though, some of that anxiety was more-so from the small changes you'd begun to notice in these last few weeks. It wasn't anything major, mostly cramping, more backpain, and exhaustion, but good ol' google had told you these may be signs of pregnancy. Hence the evening trip to the store for all of the things you lacked at home for a home birth. You hoped you were just being overly cautious, but you couldn't be too sure. Despite that though, you did your best to stay positive and just went about collecting your shopping as carefully as you could and waddling up to your nasty little apartment. You were pretty happy at the bottom of the stairs, on edge, as always when the place you lived had so many sketchy people that their aura seemed as engrained in the carpet as the mystery stains on your bedroom floor, but your mood instantly fell when you got to the top of the stairs. You stood there, heart racing, (e/c) eyes wide and frantically searching for any reason as to why you were suddenly so nervous. After all, you'd worked through this level of anxiety in your first month there, you should have a better handle on it than this, but then it clicked. It's too quiet. You realized, putting a hand on the banister to steady yourself as the dread hit you. Your apartment building was still bustling with noise, from neighbors having sex loudly, to someone's kids getting into a shrieking match, those noises were pretty mundane to you now, but something still felt too calm. Like that moment in movies right before the murderer attacks. Calm down, everything's fine. You told yourself, taking a deep breath or two to try and wait for the wave of paranoia to ebb. One of the neighbors probably just has some sort of guest over. Or maybe some strong nen user passed by, I'm sure it has a reasonable explanation. You continued to reassure yourself, but the feeling didn't pass. Some voice inside of you just kept screaming about something being way too off, maybe it was your survival instincts, maybe it was simply your paranoia acting up, either way you decided to trust your gut. So, you compromised with yourself. You gathered your bags and unlocked your apartment to place them in, ensuring they'd be safe when you returned tomorrow, than you made your way back down to the foyer as swiftly as you could manage while heavily pregnant.

         "Are you alright, miss?" A man suddenly asked, making you yelp, but when you looked over, it was just some dark haired man with a cross-shaped tattoo of sorts on his forehead sitting at the guard's seat. You'd never seen him before, but you tried your best to not be impolite. At worst, he was some sort of spy for Illumi, but if he wasn't and he was just one of the many sketchy guards that worked for the apartment building, you still didn't want to offend him. So, you laughed a bit, clasping your hands over your stomach to hide how badly you were shaking,         "Yeah, I'm fine. I just realized I'd forgotten something in my car, don't want it stolen." you said in a shakey but kind voice, which made the man snort a bit,        "Would you like me to go out there for it? I promise not to steal anything," he offered, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief while he was oddly amused by his own words, but you shook your head, brushing any stray strands of (h/l), (h/c) hair from your face as you spoke,         "No thank you, but I a-appreciate your offer." with that, you made a beeline for the door, swiftly stepping outside and taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. All at once, your anxiety began to wane, which you were immensely thankful for. Slowly, you let out a breath and waddled over to your car, ignoring the pinching cramping sensation that had plagued you for about a week now and just deciding to sit outside in your car for a while and maybe sleep there for the night since the upstairs of your building felt so weird. However, when you got to the vehicle, you pulled at the handle and nothing happened. When you tried a second time, the same thing happened, the door didn't budge. To make thing worse, you couldn't seem to find your keys when you checked your pockets.          "Of course, it'd be just my luck that I'd lose my damned keys and lock myself out of my car." you muttered, leaning against the car and resting your head against the window, trying your best to think up a second alternative to going back inside when you heard it. The single voice you wanted to never hear again,        "I must admit, you're a lot more resilient than I first thought." Illumi hummed, and before you could even think to react, he trapped you against the car, slamming his hands into the window so hard you heard it begin to crack. You shrieked and pressed your back against the car, less scared of getting cut on the glass than you were of Illumi, but instead of getting killed with his aura, or manhandled into some unmarked van, or hell, even being yelled at like you'd expected, you simply felt him brush a stray tear you didn't realize you'd shed from your (s/c) cheek, and when he did speak, he was as calm and unreadable as ever,          "You had me highly worried these past few months," he said, pushing himself off of your car and looking you over, keeping one of his hands on you in some fashion the whole time, just in case you tried to bolt or fight him off, but you never did, you'd frozen in a mix of terror, defeat, and a dizzying sense of warped relief that nearly made you nauseous. "Now, you're coming home and we are going to have a nice, calm, talk about your mistake and how you can fix it." he said, grabbing you by the wrist to lead you away. However, when his words finally sunk in, you were filled with another sense of frantic determination, refusing to move as best you could while your (e/c) eyes welled with tears again, though that was more from the pain of Illumi tightening his grip on your poor captive wrist when you resisted.           "No!" It came out a lot more forceful than you expected, "No! I don't want to go back a-and subject any child to whatever torture created you!" Finally, it was your words that earned a pause, and when you looked up to his face you saw a mixture of hurt, annoyance, and a shred of understanding flit across his doll-like facial feature ever so slightly.          "(y/n), you need to calm down. You're growing hysterical and you're going to hurt yourself trying to fight me. Just relax and come home." He ordered, but you shook your head and continued to resist as best you could, which thankfully worked since the assassin didn't want to purposely hurt you         "No! Just let me go, please! K-kill me if you must, but I don't want to go back!" you cried, and in a frantic attempt to get away, you pulled at your wrist as hard as you could, and by sheer luck, actually slipped through Illumi's grip. Sadly, your luck was spent with that last trick, so your attempts to get into the apartment building and maybe get help from the guard were quickly thwarted. Some part of you thought that maybe you could get away from Illumi Zoldyck again, but failed to realize he was a lot faster than you, even if you weren't about-to-burst pregnant. In a hope-crushing flash, he'd grabbed you again, wrapping his arms around your torso to yank you back against him and holding you there with one arm while his free hand captured your wrists to stop you from frantically flailing.             "(y/n), if you do not calm down right now, I will get the doctor to use sedatives on you." he warned, his voice low and dripping with foreboding, which, if you had any fight left in you, washed it away like he had the first day of your escape. However, you'd gone still for another reason.              "I-Illumi, let me go," you squeaked, your heart pounding so hard you didn't think you'd be able to hear his reply,              "Absolutely not." He then tried to lift you up a bit so he could move you, but you wriggled              "No! P-please listen, Illumi!" You plead, "I-I think my water just broke!"

#illumi x reader #sequel #x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #illumi zoldyck #outrunning obessessions #fanfiction #quotev #sequelette

[littlekatleaf]

The Dreams in Which I'm Dying

Well wtf, it's a new fandom for me. Unexpected! I started watching D/imension20 RPGs and fell in love with F/abian Seacaster and G/arthy O'Brien from F/antasy H/igh and P/irates of L/eviathan. This takes place 20 years after the events of the games.

And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad The dreams in which I’m dying Are the best I’ve ever had. ~ Tears for Fears, Mad World

It begins with nightmares - dark, heavy things Fabian doesn’t remember on waking. At least, not the first few nights. He’s left with nothing more than vague shadows and a lingering sense of unease. Everything seems wrong - his apartment simultaneously too big and claustrophobically small. He’s suffused with restlessness. He knows something’s coming, like a squall brewing just beyond the horizon. He might not be able to see the gathering clouds, but feels the barometric pressure plummeting.

At first he attempts to dance out of the way - to dodge and evade - but the dread wraps around him like his own battle sheet, tangling him tight. He tries to ignore the tension singing along his shoulders, the constant twist in his gut. It’s nothing, he tells himself, less than nothing. There’s no time for it to be something. Rumor has it the ship carrying one of the last pirates of the Crimson Claw will reach the mouth of Leviathan in mere days. If he’s going to meet it, he needs to pull together a party. Barely enough time remains to cement plans once he knows the group’s strengths and weaknesses.

As he paces his living room, trying to outrun the apprehension, Fabian’s eye is caught by a piece of red string, like Riz always used in his conspiracy boards. In that instant he longs for them. The Bad Kids. No matter how many years passed since any of them were kids, it’s still at the heart of who they are. (Isn’t it?) They fit together in their roles. Like that movie Kristen made them all watch once - a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess and a criminal. The others had bickered good naturedly over roles that night - specifically who was the basket case. Kristen joked it was Gilear. Ragh said it was her. Fabian didn't need to argue because he knew the truth - Riz was the brain, Gorgug the athlete, Adaine the princess, Fig the criminal, Kristen the saint. Himself the basket case. Even in all the intervening years, he’s never found a group that connects as well as they had, before they all went their separate ways. Even if they hadn’t lost touch, none of the others adventure anymore. In their absence he needs to choose alternatives, like he always does, attempting to fill the holes they left behind - and failing.

He picks up his crystal, turning it over in his hands. The group chat is saved, they are all still members, but no one has used it in years. Maybe he’s wrong; maybe he needs to let them go.

He knows there’s no time for self-indulgence. But he still stalls, the trepidation casting a fog of doubt over every option. He cannot decide on even one person to trust. Perhaps this time he should go alone. He can defeat one single pirate himself. The rest - crew and spoils alike - is irrelevant. The Maelstrom’s Maw will likely bring in the boat and then he can attack. He rubs his forehead against a growing headache and puts the decision off again.

Two nights pass, with only the lightest veil of sleep and even that torn by disquiet. The intervening days feel equally foggy with a mix of exhaustion and dread. Fabian drags himself through the necessary tasks by his fingernails until he’s done everything he can without a crew. A crew on which he still has not managed to settle. In the midst of circling the problem for the five hundredth, or five thousandth, time his crystal flashes an alert. The ship’s been sighted just a few nautical miles off Harroway Bay and will reach Leviathan before dawn. He’s waited too long, he realizes. It will be a solo adventure, then. Nothing else for it.

Fabian knows, almost from the moment he engages, that he’s made a deep mistake attempting the attack this way. Though he comes upon the pirate in the dead of night, alone as planned, he hadn’t considered that the pirate’s shipmates might still be within earshot. His blade only crosses the pirate’s once before he hears heavy boots closing fast.

The pirate thrusts and he manages to parry, but only just. His body feels strange and disconnected, as though he’s a half-beat behind in the dance, perpetually off-step. The pirate presses his advantage; Fabian retreats. Suddenly there’s a flash of light on another drawn sword and several more pirates surround him. At his best he can handle eight, maybe ten. He is not at his best, and light from the streetlamp falls on fifteen.

The pirate grins. “Yer goin’ down, boy.”

“Not a boy anymore.” At least he’ll die in battle, and if he’s very lucky he’ll take this scourge to hell with him. Make his papa proud.

“That remains to be seen,” another says.

The battle is fierce. Swords clash, lunge and dodge, strike-parry-riposte, movements Fabian knows in his sleep, but something is wrong. His body won’t obey. His lungs ache and he can’t catch his breath. Sweat drips into his eye, burning. And then - an opening - the pirate attacking leaves his flank unguarded and Fabian darts in fast - too fast to pull back when he realizes it’s a feint.

I’m fucked, he has time to think, as the pirate whirls. A sharp blow cracks across his elbow, his fingers go numb and his sword falls, clattering to the cobblestone. One of the crew kicks the back of his knees and he stumbles forward and drops. He grabs for his sword, but just as his hand closes around it, the point of the pirate’s sword is at his throat. Should have known it would end this way. Alone. On Leviathan. Fitting for it to be here, tonight - on the anniversary. The way it should have ended if he hadn’t run like a coward, abandoning Alistair to Captain James. Fabian fumbles in his pocket for his crystal, wishing for just enough time to send a last message to the Bad Kids. “Do it,” he says from between gritted teeth.

The pirate barks a laugh, but shakes his head. “Ain’t worth the world o’ hurt that would bring down on me head, boy. Chungledown Bim’s a right devil and yer marked as his. Can’t let ya follow for another go at me, though this has been a delight.”

A brilliant flash of pain blinds him. The crystal slides through his fingers. He falls… and falls… and falls…

through ropes that burn his skin and do nothing to slow his speed and his body hits water that closes over his head like he’s been swallowed whole and still he falls through freezing darkness until the ocean parts and he falls through fire and the flames crackle and whisper - What will you tell the Captain when you meet him in Hell? Have you written your name on the face of the world, Fabian? No, you have written nothing. Nothing to be remembered by. Even your friends have forgotten you. How does it feel to be a failure of a pirate and a failure of a friend? the whisper turns to choking smoke and

Fabian coughs himself awake, lungs aching like he’s been breathing water and smoke, but he still lays where he’d fallen, in some Four Castles back alley. His body’s not been hijacked. Not dropped here by imps. He blinks up at the sky for a long moment, struggling to orient himself. The sky is heavy with clouds, hiding even a sliver of moon. Fat drops of rain pelt down, edged with ice. He blinks the water from his eye and pushes himself to his feet. Once again he staggers through the streets of Leviathan, shivering hard enough to rattle teeth. This time, however, there’s no Cathilda to wrap him in a blanket, no Hangvan to disappear into. No Kristen to slap sense back into him. He wraps his arms around himself, but the rain soaks his shirt and finds no warmth.

Those he passes take no notice of him, perhaps assuming he’s nothing more than another drunken pirate. Even so, he needs to find a place to lay low. Given enough time someone will roll him just to see if he has any coin. Or simply for the fun of it. He’s not even sure, at this moment, that he could defend himself against a single assailant. His head aches where the pirate hit him and his throat is unaccountably raw. Then, as if to add insult to injury, he sneezes. Once, twice, thrice, smothered in the sleeve of his shirt. He always sneezes in threes. Riz teased him mercilessly about it.

“If you’d just sneeze like a normal person, instead of those pinchy things, you’d be done in one, Fabiahn,” Riz would say, drawing his name out like his elvish grandfather did.

“It’s called being polite, The Ball,” he’d reply. “And what do you know about normal?”

“About as much as you.”

They’d laugh together and Fabian’s embarrassment would ease. He would give anything for Riz to be laughing with him now.

Suddenly a door slams open and a wash of warm yellow light spills over the ground in front of him. He glances up. Maybe Kristen sent Cassandra to watch over him, because his meandering path has brought him to the Gold Gardens. The exiting patron brushes past with a muttered curse, but Fabian barely notices. As the doors swing shut, Bob’s voice slips through, full of dream and promise. Fabian checks his pockets and breathes a sigh of relief at the comforting feel of coin.

He stands straighter, raises his chin, allowing the light to fall on his face, scars and eyepatch and all, as the Goliath guard regards him suspiciously. Though it has been some time since he’s been on Leviathan and longer since he’s sought refuge at the Gold Gardens, he trusts the reputation he’s built in the intervening years yet holds. “Good evening. I find myself in need of a room for the night,” he says. “I have payment.”

The other guard, a half-orc he vaguely recognizes from previous visits, turns to him. Her face betrays no reaction to his disheveled state. It’s likely that she’s seen worse. “Ah, Master Seacaster. Garthy O’Brien has made it known there is always room for you here. Please, enter.”

Fabian sketches a small bow. The doors swing wide and the heat that flows out and envelops him is nearly as heavenly as Bob’s voice. But the change in temperature makes his nose run. He sniffs, presses the back of his wrist against the tickling itch, but can’t stop the inevitable. He’s barely inside before he’s sneezing again and wishing for something other than his sleeve to cover with. “H’tchsh! Chh! H’tsh!” He hopes the music and general merriment of the patrons is enough to hide the slight sound, but of course he is noticed.

“Blessings, Fabian, darling. Are you ill?” Garthy touches his shoulder gently and before he can stop himself, Fabian flinches away. His skin feels too tight, even the light pressure too much sensation. They take a step back, one hand raised in a calming gesture.

“I beg your pardon, Garthy,” Fabian says, attempting his usual charming smile. He’s not sure he pulls it off, because a small frown of concern still lingers between their brows. Somehow the expression does nothing to mar their beauty; the proprietor of the Gold Gardens is exquisite as always, the few silver threads in their black dreads the only indicator of years passing. “I’m fine. Just a little chilled from the rain. And you, my friend, are a sight for sore eyes. Eye.” His mouth quirks. “Might there be a room for a traveler seeking shelter from the storm?”

Garthy considers him for a long moment, gaze intent. Fabian resists the urge to look away, to avoid scrutiny. It’ll only make them more suspicious. He concentrates on keeping his expression vaguely flirtatious, his stance loose and easy. At last Garthy gives the smallest nod, allowing him his ruse. “I have told you before, lovey, you are always welcome here. You and yours. Come.” They turn down a hallway and Fabian follows.

Bob’s voice, the rattle of dice, the din of too much conversation fade and Fabian releases a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The Bad Kids always stayed in a room just off the main parlor, right in the midst of the action. Fig and Gorgug would take over for the house band and practically blow the roof off. Kristen would try to outdrink that biggest pirate she could find, and usually ended up drunk-best-friends with everyone. If Tracker had to pull her out of a fight or two, well, that just kept things interesting. Ragh and Fabian would drink too much mead and take too much snuff and Ragh would challenge the wrong people to wrestling matches and Fabian would beat the wrong people at dice and sometimes fists would be thrown. Good naturedly, of course. Adaine would watch them all over the spine of a book from the Compass Points and shake her head. Sometimes she had to heal one or another of them, but she never seemed to mind. Riz would disappear into the crowd for indeterminate amounts of time, only to suddenly appear at their table with a sharp-toothed grin and clues to whatever mystery they were trying to solve that he’d gleaned from overheard conversations. Fig and Kristen, especially, never wanted the nights to end. Sometime around dawn, though, Kristen and Tracker would peel off, followed by Fig and Ayda. The rest of them shared a room, Fabian, Riz, Gorgug, and Ragh all sprawled on a huge bed while Adaine tranced on a chaise nearby. Somehow Fabian slept better those nights than before or since, even though the room was never peaceful, or silent. Ragh and Gorgug snored. Adaine muttered to herself in her trance. Riz, when he slept, was restless, taking up more room than a three and a half foot tall goblin should. When he didn’t, his pen would scratch across his notebook for hours. None of it ever bothered Fabian.

A door creaks open, startling Fabian out of his thoughts. The room Garthy offers is a small and simply furnished space, just a bed, desk, and fireplace. Fabian crosses the room to a large window and looks out over the edge of the city to the black ocean beyond. It’s still raining, drops pattering against the pane. He should say something to Garthy. Thank them for the room, make a joke about another Leviathan brawl gone badly. He can’t find the words. Any words.

“Would you like something to eat? Or perhaps a warm drink?” Garthy’s voice is quiet, as though they might be intruding.

“No, thank you,” he says. Kippers, Master Fabian? Cathilda’s voice in his head. I don’t deserve kippers. He didn’t. Doesn’t. Twenty men dead. Twenty innocent men. Worst of all, Alistair Ash. Still a child. Dead because he needed to prove that he was a true pirate, heir to his father’s fame. That he is worthy. Instead he left Alistair to the fate that should have been his. He rubs his hand over his eye as though he could rub away the ache. The failure.

Garthy whispers something Fabian doesn’t catch, and flames rise in the hearth, hot and bright, crackling cheerfully. “At least let me take your wet things,” they say. “You’re shaking.”

He hadn’t realized how cold he still feels, despite being out of the wind and rain, until Garthy points it out. He takes a breath to declare, again, that he’s fine, but a chill cascades over him, followed by several sneezes, instantly proving him wrong. “H’ngxt! Fuck. H’Ntch! Ngxt!” He straightens and Garthy offers a handkerchief. Abashed, he takes it, blows his nose. “Pardon me.” Before he can gather himself, he’s overtaken again. At least this time he has a handkerchief to mute the sound. The sneezes shiver through him hard enough to send drops of rain spattering from his hair.

“Bless you, darling.” Garthy draws him closer to the fire. With deft fingers they undress him, peeling sodden clothes from his body, then wrap him in a thick robe. He doesn’t resist, suddenly beyond exhausted. Everything feels like it’s happening at a distance. Or maybe through a pane of glass. “Come, have a lay down. Things’ll look better in the morning.”

Fabian nods, even though he’s certain things will look just the same. He barely slides between the sheets when his eye drifts closed. He feels the bed dip slightly as Garthy sits beside him and, seeking warmth, he curls close. They smell spicy and sweet, like cinnamon and sandalwood and orange blossoms. Garthy curves a hand over his forehead. It’s strangely comforting and he wants to bury his face in Garthy’s hair, but instead he drifts out and out and…

floats in a strange grey emptiness. He can only identify his surroundings by absence. No color. No sound. No touch. He thinks he lifts his hands, or tries to lift his hands, or what should be his hands, but there’s nothing. He tries to look down, what he might assume is down, only to find no body. Nothing. It’s like the Nightmare Forest, but worse because they defeated the Nightmare King. They defeated Kalina. Which means this must be real. This nought. Of course no one reaches out… you don’t exist.You never existed. You are not even memory. You are a nonentity. A nullity. He opens his mouth to argue, but there’s no mouth, no vocal cords, no lungs, no breath. No words. No thoughts. Just deep, endless cold. Bone aching cold, if he had bones.

“...safe…You’re all right. Wake up, Fabian, love.” Garthy’s voice coalesces from the cold, at first sounding sharp as ice breaking. But they know his name, beckon him back into form by shaping the word. “Come on, darling. You’re dreaming.”

“Should’ve left me; felt better there. Nothing hurts when you don’t have a body,” he mumbles, and even though he has vocal cords again, he sounds nothing like himself. He clears his throat, sniffs.

Garthy laughs, low and kind. “Let me help you feel better, here in your body.” They cup his cheek gently, then urge him up and through a door to a bathing chamber.

A large bathtub stands in the center of the room, steam rising in soft curls. It is surrounded with dozens of candles and in their light Garthy glows, irises and tattoos molten gold. Fabian reaches for them, hesitantly. As if touching them might dim their shine. They smile tenderly, allowing him to trace the Zajiri script, the flowers and leaves with one tentative finger. He wonders what the writing might mean. Their skin is soft under Fabian’s own calloused hands. He longs for Garthy to wrap their arms around him, to hold him close until his shivering stops, until he’s finally warm. He doesn’t know how to ask.

Instead he moves back, putting a bit of distance between them. “I’m not w…” he starts to say, but an unexpected set of sneezes interrupts and he only just manages to pull the handkerchief from his robe pocket. “Ht’ngxt! Heh...ihh… Nxgt! H’tchh!”

“Not well?” Garthy suggests, steadying him. “Blessings.”

Heat rises in Fabian’s cheeks and he coughs a laugh. “That either. But no.” He gestures broadly, including the room, the bath, Garthy themself. “Not worth this.”

Garthy tilts their head with a puzzled frown. “Oh, lovey, of course you are.” They press one finger to Fabian’s lips before he can continue arguing. “Shh. It’s all right.” They take Fabian’s elbow, guiding him into the bath.

Fabian sinks into the heat with a deep sigh as his muscles begin to relax. He slides down, submerging himself completely in warm darkness. The water closes over his face; he rests his head on the bottom of the tub, and the only thing he hears is the thump of his own heart in his ears, still beating, beating, beating. At last his breath runs out and he surfaces with a gasp.

Gathy’s pulled a stool up beside the bath and as Fabian wipes water out of his eye, they wet a cloth and begin to wash his back, humming quietly. The soap smells of eucalyptus and peppermint, cool and clean. Fabian shivers once, and only slowly eases into the touch, closing his eye as Garthy washes his hair, gently working his fingers over his scalp. A memory rises, unbidden - himself, in the bath, he can’t be more than five and he’s sobbing. His papa is away, his mama asleep in her room even though it’s not even dark outside and he’s sick and scared. But then Cathilda’s there, as she always is, and she’s cleaning him up and humming a lullaby. Tears rise now, before he can stop them, dripping into the water.

“What’s distressing you, love?” Garthy asks.

It takes him several minutes to gather his thoughts; they feel ephemeral as clouds floating through his mind. “It’s been twenty years, Garthy. Shouldn’t it have faded?” He coughs, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “I still see them, you know. My father’s warlocks.” He presses the heels of his palms against his eye sockets. Breathe, he tells himself.

Garthy hums a listening noise.

“I shouldn’t have gone alone that night. I just wanted a moment in Crow’s Keep - we’d gone there together, my papa and I. When I was little. It was the one time Mama got angry at him, for bringing me to Leviathan, when he wasn’t supposed to be interacting with pirates. But he’d taken me up to watch the sun rise. He said he’d bring me to the top of the world, that we could touch the clouds. If I was lucky, I might even bring some home in my pockets…

“He gave me cotton candy, told me it was one he’d harvested himself. I’d never imagined clouds tasted so sweet…” he licks his lips, remembering how the candy had melted on his tongue, just like a rain cloud.

“I thought, maybe… somehow… if I spoke to him from the top of the world, he might hear me.” Fabian laughs at himself, coughs on a sob but manages to swallow it back. “Of course, Papa wasn’t listening. He was busy taking over Hell and selling spells to pirates. Always on to a bigger adventure, even in death.

“When the warlocks came, I let myself get swept up. Figuratively, as well as literally. I told them about Papa. About what I’d done… and it wasn’t enough. I killed him and it wasn’t enough.” He takes a ragged breath and Garthy rubs his back in slow circles. “I thought we could take Captain James. I thought I could take Captain James. It would make up for… everything.” He sucks in another breath, on the edge of desperation. He can’t get enough air. When he blinks, he feels Whitclaw’s tentacles on his face, cold fingers gripping him tight, raw hatred pulsing in the air between them.

“It went so fast. So fast. If I didn’t run… if I didn’t… he would have killed me… with the others. I didn’t stop to think, I didn’t even grab Alistair and he was fighting for me. I abandoned him… and I didn’t die, but he did. Because I fucked up.” Fabian sits in silence for several minutes, jaw clenched, struggling to breathe and not cry.

“I thought the guilt would fade,” he finally says, voice rough and not much above a whisper. “I thought the good I’ve done since would make up for it. I thought the adventures I had with the Bad Kids would make up for it. But it hasn’t. It doesn’t. And they’re gone… I thought killing the last of Whitclaw’s men would be penance. But I fucked that up, too.”

The only sound for a long moment is the rain on the roof, thunder rolling in the distance. Then Fabian takes a breath like he’s about to dive into the ocean and turns to face Garthy. “Am I forgivable?”

“Oh my darling Fabian. Of course you are. You are already forgiven.” They lean forward and brush the lightest kiss across his lips. “Yes, dire mistakes were made. And you have repented of those mistakes, and made reparations. You did not follow in your father’s footsteps; you found your own way. You have made a good man of yourself. You help those who are in need. You do not take advantage of anyone. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. Tales of your deeds are not spoken of as widely as Captain Bill Seacaster, but I have heard them nonetheless. Be proud of who you have become, Fabian Aramais Seacaster. And you should know that Alistair Ash lives again.”

A warm breeze whirls through the room and the candles suddenly go out. It’s as though the light has been transmuted into a seed of hope in Fabian, gold as the irises of Garthy’s eyes. Back in bed, Fabian curls into Garthy and they wrap their arms around him, holding tight until his trembling passes.

#snezfic

[harrypotterximagines]

Gifs are not mine and all credit goes to its original owners. ………………………………………………

You stretched your arms out, back cracking and loosening any knots that may have formed from last night’s slumber. You stared up at the ceiling, blinking away the dreams you envisioned, coming to a sense of reality. It was a quiet Monday morning, your roommates slowly getting out of bed and starting their day off with their usual routine.

It would have been a perfectly normal morning but dread began to fill your body, your nerves striking at your anxiety. With a nervous sigh, you forced your body out of bed and began to pull yourself into your uniform. It was becoming a second skin at this point, ready to leave Hogwarts and start your summer vacation.

Your roommate looked at you with sad eyes as she grabbed her bag, asking if you wanted to join her for breakfast. You refused, telling her that you felt like you were going to throw up what you swallowed. You were far too nervous to eat, your stomach flipping around. You left your dorm room after everyone else, taking a few minutes of solitude to breathe and gather your thoughts. You were finally going to see him after a long weekend of avoiding his constant attempts of trying to contact you. You felt your jaw clench, stress making a permanent resident inside your head.

You took your time walking to your first class, Potions with Horace Slughorn. Though your trip usually took no less than five minutes to get there, it seemed as if someone magically stretched out the corridors, feeling like it took years to arrive at your classroom. You loosened your tie for what seemed like the hundredth time. It felt like a pair of invisible hands were choking your neck. Your breathing began to become scattered and uneasy, stepping your way into the classroom with hesitation. You tried to keep your eyes on the ground but you couldn’t resist.

His cold, dark gray eyes were staring at the door frame, immediately catching you in his gaze. Your heart sank low, the color flushing from your face. His head was tilted towards his desk, but his eyesight stayed strong on your approaching figure.

Instead of taking your usual spot next to him, you sat a few tables away, ignoring the questioning looks that your fellow students were throwing your way. You didn’t have the balls to say it out loud, you just couldn’t finally face the truth.

After a year of dating, a year of committing yourselves to one another, a year of laughs and love, Draco Malfoy cheated on you. The vision of him holding some random girl close at a Ravenclaw party was playing in your mind. His hands were grabby, touching every part of her body that he could. He was visibility sweaty, intoxicated by not only her kisses, but by the amount of liquor he downed that night.

You scrunched up your nose, trying to forget it. But even while trying to concentrate on making the assigned potion, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander off. It was evident that you weren’t up to standards today. You kept messing up, chopping things too shortly or adding ingredients in at the wrong time.

After class, Slughorn pulled you to the side, concern washing over his usual friendly features. He asked if you were feeling alright, trying to install confidence into his student. His inspirational words and positive reinforcement didn’t help, however. It seemed like you were never going to get over this sullen feeling.

You were desperate to get the day over with so you could go back to your room and hide under your covers until you had to do it all over again tomorrow. That seemed like a good plan, to sleep away problems until they eventually mended themselves.

However, it seemed like someone else didn’t agree to that plan. Standing in the middle of the doorway was none other than him, looking equally as miserable as you. He had his head hanging low, like a puppy who’s been disobedient. He looked extremely tired, purple rims shadowing underneath his eyes.

You wanted to throw your arms around him in that moment, to forgive him for the way he betrayed you. You wanted to let him know that you still loved him, that his mistake was just that; a stupid, drunken mistake. But that image of him holding that girl couldn’t leave your mind. You couldn’t forgive as easily even though you wanted to.

You slowly approached the door, your attention focusing behind his shoulder. When Draco didn’t get out of your way, you finally gave up, your tense shoulders slouching in defeat, You finally looked at him, your teeth biting hard on your bottom lip.

You took one step forward, making you take one step back. Sadness became him as he saw you retreat. He hesitated for a moment before he took another step closer to you. When you didn’t back away, he took the opportunity and began to speak his peace.

“I can’t imagine how hurt you must be …” He paused for a moment, his eyes darting as he tried to rack through his brain. “I understand what I did was stupid. The stupidest thing I could possibly ever do. I know that there is no appropriate excuse to explain my poor behavior. I could pull out a dictionary and list out all the words that describe the type of person I am, asshole being the first.”

He stifled a laugh, his witty personality still making you weak at the knees. You noticed that Slughorn was standing too closely to you two, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation.

“I’m in love with you. I lost you the night I betrayed you. I can’t bear to live another day without you. I know that I have it good with you, that no one, absolutely nobody understands me better than you. I deserve the punishment you’re giving me. I don’t even deserve you standing here right before my eyes, listening to me babble on like a fool.”

His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing deeper as he continued to speak. What he felt must have been true, his somber expressions speaking louder than his words. He fell quiet once again, his hand slowly reaching up to your face. He hesitated but eventually you felt his knuckles slightly brush off your skin. “I can only selfishly ask for you to forgive me and for us to move past this. To lose you is like the sun burning out. It makes the world go cold and dark. And I can’t live life if I’m going to be living on a sunless planet.”

Your lips slightly parted as he spoke, a sense of forgiveness washing over you. You sighed heavily before pulling him in your embrace, the both of you holding onto one another tightly. You didn’t let go until you realized you had another class to attend, the day just starting even though so much has happened already.

“We’ll talk about this later,” was all you said before giving him a small smile and heading off for your next class of the day. You knew that eventually the both for you were going to move on from this incident, but it was up to you to decide whether you wanted to do it together or separately. Even though he hurted you, it was impossible to give him up. You weren’t ready to lose him so easily. You knew that relationships had ups and downs but you never expected to come to such a low.

It was going to take a lot of hard work building that trust again, but you were ready to commit to that promise of working things out. If you were his sun, then he was your moon. Because even on the coldest and darkest nights, the soft glow of the moon high in the sky still gave hope for a better tomorrow.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy headcanon #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter headcanon #hogwarts #slytherin #draco malfoy boyfriend #potions class #harry potter text post #harry potter x reader #harry potter au #y/n

[powerosewaterpuff]

this idea for a fic/short fic came completely from a tiktok from @ fixation_or_infatuation on tiktok who has such awesome content so P L E A S E go check them out!! and thank u so much for the idea bc legit this made me so happy hehe

(also soft dad Bruce rights ok? oK I CLOSE MY EYES AND EARS TO CANON AND SAY FUCK THAT NOISE BRUCE IS A GOOD DAD FIGHT ME ON THIS HE IS A GOOD DAD WHO IF HIS SON CRIED FOR SOMETHING HE WOULD TURN THE EARTH OVER ON ITS ASS TO FIND IT FOR HIM PERIOD POINT BLANK. HE LOVES HIS CHILDREN OK A Y?? OH ALSO U CAN RIP DICK BEING AN ESL KID OUT OF MY COLD DEAD HANDS OK? OK :) )

“-uce. Bruce? Bruce! Bru-uce! Bruce, I adopted a chihuahua and named her Georgina, what’d you think of that?”

“Hn?”

Bruce shot his head up, realizing he had made the foolish mistake of zoning out through an infamous Dick Grayson tale, that always required every form of attention necessary at all times. He could feel himself chuckle inwardly, as he saw his ward’s little pout as he chewed away at his tortellini, directing a solid stare of expectation at Bruce.

“You really need to sleep more, do you know that?” Dick hummed, raising a little eyebrow at Bruce, which was a facial expression that looked far too adult on his baby cheeked face, and it looked far to Bruce-esque for his own liking.

“Even if I didn’t know that, I’d always have you to remind me, don’t I?” Bruce teased, stirring up a bright giggle from Dick that simply filled his chest with a rush of warmth that he had never really felt before. He loved hearing his laughter, no matter where or when and whether it was a rarity or not, but it always felt just a little bit more special when Bruce had been the one to cause it.

“At this point, I would consider myself your own personal alarm cloc-Bruce, can I please wake you up singing Christmas carols tomor-Why? I have a beautfiul and spec-tac-u-lar voice, thank you very much!”

Bruce didn’t bother suppressing a teasing eye roll, as Dick’s voice sounded like glass being rubbed against a cheese grater when he tried to hit all of Mariah Carey’s notes. He did, however, nod slightly at Dick to congratulate him on his proper pronounciation of ‘spectacular’, which was a word that Dick usually had a hint of trouble with. It was a small action, but one he hoped Dick would understand.

“Anyways, can I ask you a question?” Bruce’s eyebrows curved upwards in question, just a smidge, as he pushed his plate of food aside and leaned closer across the table to give Dick his complete focus.

“You already did,” Dick rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort but Bruce cut him off, “However, what’d you need?”

Then, there was something Bruce never really thought he would see for as long as he would live. It was Dick Grayson, the beam of passionate sunshine himself, squirming shyly in his seat and chewing on his bottom lip. If Bruce wasn’t the master of supressing emotions then he would’ve been throughly surprised by this display.

Dick Grayson was simply not shy, not in the very slightest. He was bolsterous and bold with just a hint of cunningness behind it, but he certainly was not shy. This, of course, caused Bruce to begin categorizing all the possible problems there could be. He ran through them over and over in his head, trying to suppress an inexplicable feeling of dread and fear that was coursing through his chest only slightly, but still present.

Dick took a deep breath, and Bruce could feel himself holding his almost inadvertently.

“When Superman comes today, d-do you think I could get an autograph,” Dick spluttered out, saying it almost too fast that Bruce barely understood what had been uttered. He did feel himself take a massive sigh of relief, even though what replaced the dread in his heart was just a prick of bitterness. Dick had never asked for Batman’s autograph.

“If Clark’s alright with it, then I don’t see why not, chum.”

Then, like a burst of light on a cloudy evening, Dick jumped out of his seat and went around the table straight into Bruce’s arms for a full koala hug.

Bruce, who still wasn’t fully accustomed to such open and loving acts of affection, froze for just a slip of a moment but then melted into Dick’s hold, as he usually did. There was just something magical, dare he say, about his wards (sons) hugs.

Dick then propped his head onto Bruce’s chest, and beamed up at him with stars glittering in his eyes, “Thank you, B!”

Bruce yearned to say something, to say anything along the lines of; Of course, I would bring the moon down if you asked me too or I love you so much that your very laugh eases this knot in my chest that has never been able to budge.

Bruce only managed a meager, “No need to thank me, chum.”

Dick, who had been completely content with the answer given even though he shouldn’t have been, placed his hands onto Bruce’s shoulders and flipped into a handstand position. He then curved his body around enough to sit onto Bruce’s broad shoulders, which in full honesty, didn’t surprise Bruce at this point. He had become labelled as the ‘jungle gym man,’ which was a nickname graciously given to him by Dick himself.

“Now, ride my steed! To Alfie!”

Bruce prayed inwardly that Clark wouldn’t have to be a witness to this mayhem, because it really would lessen his fearsome status in the Justice League.

•••••••••••

Bruce was not jealous.

He simply was not and it didn’t matter how many side eyed stares Alfred shot his way, Bruce was a perfectly fine without a sliver of jealously.

It’s hero-worship, it’s just complete and utter hero-worship.

From the moment Clark Kent had stepped through the Cave’s doors, Dick had been unable to contain his sheer excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The two had hit it off better then anyone Bruce had ever seen before, gabbering on about nothing and everything all at the same time. Now, Bruce was not upset about this, because Dick deserved someone who could give every inch of love he so generously gave back to him. Clark was just that person, as the Boy Scout himself matched wits with Dick far easier then Bruce had ever been able to do.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.

“Master Bruce?”

Bruce swiveled his chair to face Alfred, as he sorted out the rest of his paperwork.

“Have you seen Master Dick since our guest left? I’ve been unable to locate him since then.”

His jaw clenched slightly, as he racked his brain around everytime he had seen Dick between the forty minutes since Clark had left and that moment. He felt his heart sink when he realized he hadn’t seen a trace of Dick since the Kryptonian had left.

Fuck.

Bruce hurried up to the third floor of the Manor, and felt his heart that had sunk into his gut shatter at the sound of a faint whimper slithering up to his ear from the bathroom across the hall. He gently walked towards it, slowly but surely turning the knob only to peer his head in, as not to startle Dick.

Dick was curled up into a ball across from the sink, small sobs heaving from his little chest as he desperately tried to push the oncoming flow of tears away with his palm. His cheeks were marred with fresh tear stains and his eyes were a leaning towards the pinker side as fresh tears began to bubble to the surface.

Bruce wasted absolutely no time as he skidded to the floor in front of Dick, gripping his wards shoulders tightly. Dick raised his head slightly, looking all the more ashamed for being caught crying which weighed down on Bruce like the weight of the ocean.

“Dick, what’s wrong?” Bruce whispered, wishing he could erase every inch of sadness off his face, “Please tell me what’s wrong, chum.”

Dick bit his lip, chewing on it for a bit, which Bruce recognized as one of Dick’s nervous habits. He made a note of that, just in case.

“I-Bruce, it’s stupid, alright? I-I’ll get up, I’m sorry for sitting on the bathroom flo-.”

“Dick,” Bruce huffed, firmly pushing Dick back onto the ground as he moved his hands to cup Dick’s cheeks, still filled with baby fat, “Nothing you say is going to be stupid. I want to know what’s wrong, alright?”

Bruce was not one to plead nor grovel, no matter how much life pressed its dirty heels into his back he never swayed. However, seeing Dick crying was such a weak point to him that it unnerved and horrified him. (It was probably why his nightmares had all had one consistent theme of Dick being in some sort of danger that Bruce could not save him from.)

Dick practically melted into Bruce’s hold, and nuzzled his face into his palm as Bruce wiped away stray tears. Fuck. Bruce needed to hug Dick more, or just show any shred of affection. He just wasn’t used to having to show an abundance of physical affection to someone, and had forgotten how much he had craved for it when he was younger, starving and hungry for shreds of affection he wasn’t expecting to receive, until he simply became numb to it. Dick really deserved someone better, and Bruce knew this more than anyone else.

After taking a shaky breath, Dick peered up at Bruce as he blinked away tears, “Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?”

“I promise,” Bruce vowed as he rubbed his thumb across Dick’s cheeks comfortingly.

“Do you remember how I wanted Superman’s autograph?” Dick mumbled softly, sniffling slightly. Bruce nodded but mentality cursed himself a thousand times for not realizing that Dick hadn’t asked a single time for an autograph from Clark.

“I-I really wanted to ask him! I kept waiting and waiting but I just couldn’t do it, b-because I thought he might find me annoying. I really, really wanted him to like me, Bruce! I thought he might get upset or get annoyed by me because I talk so much, so I just couldn’t do it and I don’t even know why I’m crying! He was so nice to me but I just really got scared a-and my tongue got tied like-like a knot! Does that make sense? My tongue was like this big heavy knot and it was stuck to my mout-Why am I crying!”

Dick tried to suppress a rising sob, as he covered in his eyes in shame. Bruce gently let go of his cheeks and spread his arms out gently, with the offer standing clear. Dick flung himself into Bruce’s waiting arms and buried his face in the crook of his neck, as he continued to try to mumble out a few words and hiccup. God, it was enough to make Bruce’s chest ache, as he rubbed soothing circles into Dick’s back softly.

“Clark would never find you annoying, not in a million years. Dick, can you look at me for a second? Clark would never find you annoying, and I don’t know a single person who would,” Bruce stated firmly, as he cradled Dick in his arms and shifted him so he would be facing him, “Dick, Clark would give you a thousand autographs if you asked, and do you want to know something? There’s nothing wrong with being a little shy, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing at all.”

Dick sniffled a bit, as he snuggled closer to Bruce but he stayed quiet, which worried Bruce more so then it should’ve.

“You know, I get shy sometimes too,” Bruce confided quietly, as if it would provide some sort of comfort to Dick. It proved to work as Dick sat up with a start, glancing up at Bruce wirh furrowed brows.

“It’s never this emotional, but you know what? I think it’s better you let it all out, then trying to bottle it up inside,” Bruce murmured, pushing Dick’s fringe back. He saw a pensive look set into Dick’s features, and was met with another soft hug.

Dick was going to being the reason Bruce’s heart burst, he was sure of it.

“You’re the best, Bruce.”

Oh well, Bruce didn’t need a heart anyway. Not if he had Dick with him.

•••••

Bruce leaned over his phone, dialing a number into it as he kept his ears open to the sound of the tap shutting.

He had gotten Dick to wash his face a bit, with Alfred stepping in to look after him while Bruce made some executive calls.

The phone beeped for a bit. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hello? Bruce?”

“I’m going to say this one singular time, are we clear? You are going to fly over here and give Dick the best goddamned autograph you have given a person but you are going to let him ask for it first, then you’ll be on your merry way unless he asks you to stay for dinner, clear?”

“I-.”

Bruce ended the call, satisfied with the answer he was given. It still stung just a bit that Dick wasn’t demanding a Batman autograph, but he would make sure his ward (son) was as happy as can be, even if it meant letting the Boy Scout take his place as Dicks, ‘Favourite Adult.’

It was worth it, if he could make sure that brilliant smile was always there.

Fin

(P.S. Later that night, when Bruce was tucking Dick into bed after shutting The Vevlveteen Rabbit and setting it onto the nightstand, he noticed Dick was happily gripping the signed Superman card tightly in his hand. He shoved back his exasperation, but couldn’t help but give a raise of the brow when Dick asked if he could buy a Superman backpack.

“You already sleep in Superman pajamas, I think the commodities can stop at that,” Bruce suggested, ignoring the fact that Dick probably had no idea what that word even meant, “Would you not want any other hero?”

“Nope, he’s my favourite. Oh-Besides you, of course!” Dick hummed, as he used his other arm to grab Zitka from behind him, as casual as could be.

Bruce, on the other hand, had just had a bombshell dropped on him. A happy bombshell. A pleasant bombshell. A bombshell nonetheless, though.

“I wouldn’t get your merch, though. I have the real thing, and he’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Wally that though!” Dick exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Bruce like the most important part of that sentence was the warning of not to tell Kid Flash, and not that Bruce was his ‘bestest friend in the whole wide world.’

(Not father. Never his father.)

Bruce was silent, but leaned over to give Dick a peck on the forehead and a rare but soft smile. One he really only reserved for Dick and Alfred. He couldn’t afford to be selfish, this was enough for him. This was absolutely enough for him.

Dick returned his smile with one that shone brighter then all the suns Bruce had seen in his life.

Bruce really adored this kid.)

AND THATS IT HEHE PLEASE EXCUSE WELL EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS FIC I WROTE IT AT 2AM AND WHILE I CONSIDERED POSTING IT ON AO3 (my account is ordinarilyspeaking btw :) ) I DECIDED TUMBLR IS WHERE IS POST MY 2AM THOUGHTS ANYWAY SO WHY THE FUCK NOT SO YEAH IM GOING TO GO PROCRASINATE MY ASSINGMENTS SOME MORE SO THANK U SO MUCH FOR READING HEHE!

#bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #batman #clark kent #superman #DCU #fanfic #Good dad! Bruce #bruce is a good dad #ok #fuck u canon #u don’t run shit #dick grayson is robin #and #a ray of sunshine #he is such a good kid #aND EVEN THOUGH HE DOESNT REALIZE IT YET BRUCE IS ABSOLUTELY HIS FATHER BUT HE JUST DOESNT REALIZE AND BRUCE IS AN IDIOT BUT A GOOD IDIOT #father son #comfort #comfort fics are the best fics fight me #i wrote this at 2am #legit #this is probs the fluffiest thing i’ve written on tumblr #so yk expect some angst later on :)

[the-bl-road]

Counting Stars

Summary: a fiction of what I think happened when Mix had his fainting spell on set. 

Characters: Earth Pirapat, Mix Sahaphap

AN: based on real events, as seen in behind the scenes footage. Some bits in this is from those videos, while others are my own fiction. 

The weather was cold; colder than they were used to, and the constant rain didn’t help either. The crew was wrapped in layers of clothing and the cast were stood, as chills ran down their spines. Earth was standing just off screen, and Mix was on screen, filming his solo scene at the top of the mountain; the most important scene out of the whole series. Everything was going well despite the weather conditions, but not so much for Mix.  

Since this was his first main role, he didn’t want to cause any trouble, even though his body was telling him to take a break. He did his best to ignore the chills and the slight throbbing in his head, and he kept on filming, pushed through to finish the scene, but he shouldn’t have…

It was the scene everyone was waiting for, the one where Tian finally got to count the stars. The scene itself was already hard for Mix as it required him to stand in the cold wind, staring up at the sky and counting over and over again, his body was weakening but he kept going, determined not to mess up. His vision was clouded around the edges; dark orbs danced around and messed with his mind. By the time Earth came into the shot, Mix felt like he couldn’t stay upright anymore, so he was thankful that the scene had Earth holding him.  

As soon as Earth held onto Mix and was saying his lines, he knew something wasn’t right with him. His face was pale, his eyes were glazed over, and he could tell that something bad was going to happen. He didn’t say anything because he too wanted to get this scene done right the first time and not have to be up there any longer than they should.  

The last thing Mix remembered was Earth saying his line and pulling him in to hold him tight. Mix’s eyes closed and the darkness engulfed him, his whole body going limp in Earth’s arms.  

“Tian? TIAN?!” Earth called out, but Mix himself wasn’t responding. When he called out Tian’s name once more and still Mix wasn’t responding, Earth’s heart dropped.  

“MIX? MIX!” he shouted as all the crew stood confused. Earth pulled Mix away from him slightly and his heart dropped; Mix’s eyes were still closed and he was limp…Mix had fainted. The whole set were in panic mode as filming stopped and Aof and some crew members rushed in to help. Earth was in shock and his hands were shaking, tears were in his eyes as he tried to wake Mix up. His eyes frantically looked around and landed on Aof.  

“P’AOF!!” his tears had fallen and he didn’t know what to do, he felt so lost.  

“N’Earth, let me help him,” Aof had said before he gently pried Earth from Mix and a crew member had taken him into their arms, as he cried.  

“He’ll be okay, he’s going to be okay,” they had whispered to him but he wasn’t listening.  

“Someone get me blankets! Mix! N’Mix!” Aof by this time had Mix lying down on the ground and was tapping his cheeks to wake him up. More blankets came and Aof covered him up as best as he could with Mix lying down.  

When Earth’s crying had died down, they helped him to sit down and wrapped him in a blanket, standing by for support. He watched with fearful eyes, his mind not stopping from chanting and hoping that Mix was alright. His eyes were still filled with tears and his body was shivering. In all of six years that they’ve known each other, he’s never seen Mix this badly sick before and it was scary.  

“I-is he okay? What’s happening?” he had whispered out into the cold air.  

“Looks like he’s waking up,” a crew beside him had answered. His eyes widened at that, as he unconsciously leaned forward to see. For Mix, it was pure darkness, like he was sleeping but with a sense of dread. Slowly, his darkness became lighter and lighter…until he came to consciousness as his eyes opened and tears fell. There was hushed whispers surrounding him, and his whole body felt like it wasn’t working.  

“N’Mix…can you hear me?” he blinked a few times and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on Aof on his right. He tried to say something but his voice was lost and all that came out was the smoke of breath.  

“No-no…don’t speak or move yet…we’ll get you to sit up in a bit so we can cover you with more blankets," Mix spent the next however many minutes, just laying there, a blanket laid over him and he vaguely noticed that his feet were propped up. Everyone was telling Earth that Mix was awake, but in his eyes, his friend wasn’t moving.  

“M-Mix…” his voice was shaky and his breath was smoking up.  

“P…Phi…” Mix whispered out, his voice was also shaky. He was super shocked that he had fainted (and on set no less), he’s never fainted before.  

‘Did I just faint? I couldn’t have…’

His silent tears turned into sobs as his body shook.  

“N’Mix…oh…okay, let’s get you up,” Aof said before he helped Mix to an upright position, then motioned for someone to hand him another blanket. They wrapped him up tightly as he kept shaking and crying. Aof was rubbing his hands up and down Mix’s arm and rambling encouragements to him to try and calm him. He looked behind him to where Earth was sitting and he had to make a quick decision. It was really late and really cold.  

Aof was seen speaking in hushed whispers to an assistant, who in turn walked over to Earth.  

“P’Aof said he’s cutting filming short today, he wants you both to go back,” Earth nodded, relief washed over him as he too didn’t want Mix to continue like this. From there, the assistants were quick to help the cast get into vehicles, to get going back to their accommodation. Earth and Mix were still wrapped in blankets and jackets when they entered the warmth of the vehicle. Earth climbed in and sat at the window seat, and next to him was Mix. He opened his arm and engulfed Mix in a tight hug, hand busy running fingers through his hair.  

The rest of the cast wanted to ask if Mix was okay, but they wouldn’t dare when they see how shaken up Mix was. The ride back to their accommodation was quiet, and when they arrived, everybody had left with Mix and Earth the only ones in the car.  

“Mix…” Earth looked down at him. Mix was still in his arm, his own arms wrapped around Earth’s middle and griping his shirt tight. Earth carefully manoeuvred Mix so that his legs were across his lap and he could carry him bridal style once they were out of the car.  Thankfully, it was late in the night, so there weren’t many people about to cause suspicions. He carried Mix all the way to their shared room and settled him on the bed. Mix was still shaken up and was being unresponsive physically, but Earth knew that his mind must be going in overdrive.  

“Mix…you need to drink some juice okay? A doctor will be here soon to check on you” Earth said as he went to get the juice box for Mix. He poked the straw in and thankfully got Mix to drink it while he went around the room to get Mix a change of clothes and to double check the message he got from his P’Aof about the doctor. Just as he got the clothes all set out, there was a knock on the door.  

He went to answer the door, and wai’d to the doctor as he let him in. When the doctor came around the corner, Mix looked up and wai’d too.  

“Hello N’Mix… I’m going to check on you quickly then you can rest okay?” the doctor was nice and gentle as he checked Mix over and asked him simple questions. Earth sat nearby and watched as Mix was slowly coming back to responsiveness.  

“Looks like there’s nothing serious going on, I would say a case of overwork and some exhaustion. He needs plenty of rest and make sure that he keeps hydrated and eating well,” the doctor told Earth.  

“I’ll make sure he does doctor…thank you,”  

“I’ll let Aof know as well, get some sleep N’Mix, you should feel better in the morning,” Mix quietly thanked him and Earth walked him to the door. When he walked back inside the room, Mix was sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to get changed. Earth sat down next to him and gave him a side hug.  

“We can talk about this when you’re feeling better, for now, let’s get you changed and get some sleep. Did you finish your juice?” Earth whispered to him.  

“I have just a little bit left,” he answered. Earth reached over and got the juice from the side table and handed it to Mix, who quietly finished the remaining juice.  

“Want me to help you change?”

“Mhmm”  

Earth helped him change into his sleep clothes as much as he could and into the bed, under the covers.  

“P’Earth…”

“Mm…”  

“Thank you…”  

#a tale of a thousand stars #1000 stars #earth pirapat #mix sahaphap #earthmix #earrthmix fiction

[interstellix]

full hearts ↳ lee minho (lee know)

genre: angst, fluff

summary: no matter how it’s played, it’s always the same ending - unless a new one is unlocked

word count: 2235

requested: “i would like to request an au with minho please and ummmm well :O IT’S CUTE”

warnings: mentions of blood

a/n: LMFAOO ALLY LOML I’M SO SORRY IDK WHAT THE HELL WENT WRONG HERE I- listen consider this a free coupon for a free request with no expiration date bc this shit went straight to hell LOL but ye ily mwah @walkingonwave​ also why tf did it get so long fjdfdhjdk

you hate it when someone plays your video game. not one that you own, but one that you’re in.

you hate it because, no matter how often it's played and how often you have to experience the same story over and over again, you never get used to the terror and pain lacing it.

there’s more to it than the eye meets, what the screen shows and what the player is served; to you, it’s simply too much.

“I swear, this game ruined my life,” minho sighs before showing you a smug smirk, “good thing I have one more.”

you shoot him a glare but still glance at the digital wristband he wears which, much to your relief, shows a glowing red heart next to two black ones. indeed, one more life.

“how can you even be joking in this kind of situation?” you ask between heavy breaths and look him up and down. “you’re bleeding from your arm, you just got shot in your leg and there are probably two, three broken ribs as well.”

minho snorts, “can you blame me? the player sucks.”

you can’t argue against that. the player does suck for sure, constantly getting you and the rest of your team in trouble, making you die left and right, using potions and other items like they’re lollipops handed out to children; honestly, you’re surprised they have even made it this far into the game - the final stage and battle. that said,

“yeah but you can still control what’s going on behind the scenes. maybe, maybe you wouldn’t be in the miserable state y-”

you’re cut short by the high-pitched, piping noise you’ve by now come to dread, not fancying the explosion it’s shortly after to be accompanied by; just as it comes, minho wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from the shattered pavement you had fallen limp on.

“as if you’re in place to call me miserable,” he sighs and runs away from the spot all while still carrying both his equipment and you. “look at yourself, I’m impressed you even have enough energy to complain so much.”

you remain silent, aware that you can’t deny it. the adrenaline rushing through your body is really the only thing keeping you awake despite you being in a fairly worse state than you had claimed minho to be in.

said one doesn’t slow down but occasionally steals glances at you and upon noting the exhaust slowly but surely taking over your features, he calls out, worry clear in his voice, “god damn it, y/n! keep your eyes open, you still have a full life left, right?”

though not all too pleased by it, minho takes the low hum escaping you as a valid answer and keeps running to the first possible shelter found. you eventually find yourself in a two story building, not in a particularly perfect state with the catastrophe of a final battle going on in the city but enough for shelter.

“minho?” hearing the energy gradually leaving your voice, minho bites his lip to stay relaxed and instead hums, waiting for you to go on. “how can you stay so calm?”

as he enters a bedroom and carefully places you down in the rightful bed inside, he answers simply, “if I show you I’m scared, you’ll start panicking even more, right?” slowly, he removes the heavy equipment from your body, showing you a small smile while wiping a wound on your cheekbone clean from blood. “I don’t really fancy that idea.”

the playful look in his face loosens into a soft one, lips curled up in a small smile and eyes warm, “make sure you get some rest, yeah?”

as soon as you hear this, your eyes widen and fear quickly fills you. tightly grabbing onto the hand now cupping your cheek, you question in a shake breath, “where are you going?”

“I have to find the rest of the team, it’s been a while since we were separated and I still can’t get in touch with them-”

a sharp pain settles itself in your abdomen when you hastily sit up in the bed but at that moment, you can’t seem to care any less about it and hold onto his shoulder instead. “w-wait, you’re just gonna leave me here?!”

minho lightly pushes your hand away and answers with clear confusion, “no, but we can’t just ditch the re-”

the conversation is cut short when the nth explosion erupts in the outside world, followed by a whole chain of more and you look out through the window, the city might as well be considered the hell on earth by now; the sight of dark smoke, fire and more and more buildings getting destroyed only adds to the lump of fear and anxiety in you. you look back at minho and with pleading, glossy eyes, you just barely manage say through your irregular breathing increasing at a ridiculously high pace,

“min, p-please, don’t leave me alone.”

he furrows his eyebrows, not understanding just how desperate you are for him to not find the rest of your friends, to the point where it almost sounds selfish. “what’s wrong with you? we have to find the guys to finish the ga-”

right then, just as he catches a sole tear escaping your eye, realization seems to sink down on him, features once again softening. it’s nothing about selfishness at all, nothing about wanting to ‘ditch’ the rest of your friends. it’s simply the fear and pain of losing the person most dear to you - him.

“y/n...” minho’s hand returns to your cheek, this time to tenderly wipe the corner of your eye dry and as he speaks, his voice is almost comforting even during the definition of war currently going on, “we’ve played this game so, so many times, baby. you already know I’m always right with you.”

eyes shutting close, you lean into the touch of his hand and whisper, “you know that’s a lie, minho; I hate this game so much, we play everything together with the other guys, beat the final stage every, damn, time but we never get a happy ending. that shit just doesn’t exist in this game and I can’t handle it anymore.”

just as your vent of panic comes to an end, your wristband suddenly starts beeping, two quick, disturbing tunes. even more confused, minho looks down at its screen only for his jaw to drop; out of your three hearts, only a half of the last one is still shining and instead of the bright red, it’s a purple.

with a mix of anger and his own panic, minho groans while scanning your body for any possible causes of it, “when the fuck did you get poisoned?!” before going on, he finally finds a dark patch on your upper arm, staining it with the same shade of purple as shown on the screen. “why did you never tell me?”

despite the sobbing you’ve broken out in in the middle of the chaos, you choke out, “wouldn’t matter, player drained it all.”

minho’s jaw clenches and while he himself stays quiet, his mind is screaming, trying to figure out how to solve the situation. reaching out to the sheets under you, he pulls off a strip and hurries to wrap it around your arm in hopes of the poison to not spread as fast anymore. “listen well, alright?” he begins as he ties a tight knot. “don’t move or you’ll only lose even more health points; I don’t care if there’s never a happy ending, I won’t have you dying on me before we’re even done here.”

“but-”

“I can’t have you getting scared either. I won’t be able to focus on the game if I know you’re scared,” minho interrupts. he cups your face, solid eyes locking with your own, words gentle as they’re uttered,

“look at me, y/n. don’t think of anything else, just look at me.”

though staying quiet, you do as told. you do as told, relishing in the warmth radiating from his hands, letting yourself relax at the sight of your boyfriend so close up even though he looks like mess on two legs. you do as told, only for one tear after another to build up in your eyes.

minho leans his forehead against yours. when he whispers, you notice that you’re not the only scared one here, the shakiness in it revealing more than enough. all that said, he still manages to say every word you both need to hear and trust.

“just a little more... I don’t care about a happy story, if the game’s going to end, I want it to end with you next to me so hang on just a little more.”

whether it’s the pain, exhaust from the poison or you simply finding a sense of calm for the first time in a good while, you don’t know but it nevertheless leads you to slowly give into unconsciousness.

the last thing you just barely manage catching is a feather-light kiss to your forehead and a tenderly spoken assurance,

“I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

who knows how long it’s been? probably no one, but long enough for the screen of your wristband to meet you with three now full, red hearts as soon as you wake up.

you stare at your hands curled up right in front of your face and even though your vision isn’t clear enough after sleeping, you can still make out how they’re free from bruises, wounds and dusts. furthermore, it’s quiet. uncomfortably quiet, purely because you’re not used to a sound clean from explosions and other rumbling noises. it confuses you for a second and you start wondering if there’s been a restart. however, realizing that you’re still in the same, unknown bedroom as before and remembering that you have yet to go through the ending of the game, you know it’s still not over.

barely daring to look away from your hands even the slightest bit, you think for yourself, “if it’s not over, what’s going o-”

“finally up, sleeping beauty?”

a sharp gasp emits from you as you hear this and within moments, you’re sitting back up in the bed. by the edge of it, he sits; the window invites the morning sun you haven’t seen in what feels like a lifetime, its light illuminating his face in gentle shade of orange; a smile graces his lips and even under strands of hair, the gleam in his eyes is clear, bright upon finally seeing your own open.

four seconds. that’s what it takes for you to process that, as unfamiliar as this scene is after playing the game so many times, it actually is minho sitting right next to you, in person, pure flesh and blood. four seconds is what it takes until you launch yourself at him, arms tightly wrapping around his neck, face digging into the crook of it.

you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent you’ve grown fond of after spending so much time with minho. when you don’t say anything, he asks, “don’t wanna know what happened?”

you shake your head. “I don’t care.”

an airy chuckle escapes minho. his arms wrap around your waist and hold you closer to him and while starting to explain anyway, he unconsciously starts swinging your bodies from side to side. “believe it or not, that stupid player unlocked the secret ending.”

though confused, you don’t bother moving the slightest bit while humming in confusion. he doesn’t either and instead continues, “turns out if you beat the game in critical mode and gather all trophies, you unlock the secret ending.”

“and... what exactly happens in the secret ending?”

“in the secret ending...” minho murmurs, “the whole team survives.” as if on cue, loud yelling and laughters can suddenly be heard outside the bedroom. you’re barely aware of it though as he pulls away, just enough to get a look of your face. “the city can rebuild again...” he momentarily glances to the side where the window shows an unusually peaceful view. you follow his gaze, though only until his index finger and thumb takes a hold of your chin, turning you back to face him. “and you and me...”

with the current being through and through unknown to you, you find yourself growing more nervous than ever. when his thumb just barely grazes your bottom lip, your breath hitches and hands drop down to his shoulders, tightly grabbing onto them.

the time minho spends on leaning closer feels painfully long and yet, you’re barely aware of exactly when the barely existent gap eventually is shut. his lips are soft against your own, slowly moving against them. the feeling of it alters between the one of featherlight, pure pecks and long, passionate kisses and you can swear it’ll drive you insane right there and then.

you don’t though. instead, you can only melt under the touch, the loving hold around you leaving you in a serenity in the finest sense of the word.

when you eventually part, minho’s hand travels upwards to tuck stray hair behind your ear as he looks at you with a smile bigger than you’ve ever seen on him,

“stay together.”

maybe, just maybe, this game isn’t so bad after all.

#stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #lee know #lee minho #bang chan #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #i.n #yang jeongin #angst #fluff

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired]

some p!g-drv3 theories (spoilers obvi)

First of all I think people demonize the pg versions wayyy too much because its a good way to be le sexy in like fanfictions. And i get it, villains are hot or whatever. and also hs is a horny age to be. But even the edgiest and horniest of teens aren’t like. that sexual/monstrous. its kind of insane the portrayals people are placing

maybe this could also be like me being older bc when i was early hs i was like yea its fair to place these super mature portrayals on a 18-22 year old they are like adults but young and now im that age and im like woah there pardner. might be an age/maturity thing. 

also like its normal for people to relate to and portray characters their same age in a similar fashion, but when adults write more sexual content about the dg kids i get hella fucking sus

idk where i was going with that first comment i guess its like a preface and in the end i think its important when characters especially teenage characters are morally grey not because they’re mature and dark/brooding but because they are still young and learning. fuck im older than like most of them, but im still young and learning. its good to be in turmoil and confused, especially the drv3 cast. they are more confused than anything.

which i think is a reason why people would join dr because if you are completely loss and in turmoil, it is appealing to be given a purpose in life and amazing talents/abilities. despite the morals of danganronpa, it is a simple reality to be told who you are and what to do

OK ONTO HEADCANONS (not doing all bc i dont have thoughts about all)

first of all i understand changing stories but i think, deep down, you can’t change fundamental personalities/values. so while the backstories might be different i think, in the end, a baseline is always the same

SHUICHI being a Bad Boy is like canon obviously but i dont think he’s as manipulative as people make him out to be. i think he falls in the more the bully role that like. mae borowski or tf2′s scout filled before they grew up. rough background, bad anger issues, lots of emotional turmoil, and the only way he knows how to deal with shit is by committing crimes and beating the shit out of people. and, similar to those characters, drv3 represents an older, more emotionally sober yet equally confused version of himself. the urges are still there as foreshadowed in the dialogue. i think he struggles with guilt, mostly survivors, but there is still a lasting impact of guilt of what he did in his past, even if he can’t remember.

KOKICHI is a child. a piece of shit motherfucker child but a child. I really do think he’s like one of the youngest people in the cast. he reminds me a lot of when my brother doesn’t take his adhd medicine and takes jokes way too far and does mean and cruel things because he thinks its funny and that its just a fun joke, but is hurting people. he desperately wants approval, which is why his leader role is so interesting because in the dr narrative he has the approval he craves and so he is satisfied. still, he does try to impress characters like rantaro and values his opinions a lot, even developing a brotherly relationship in the time they knew each other. this being said, its established kokichi was bullied before, but i dont think he’s like. the wimp people make him out to be. i think he’s more of like the class clown who desperately uses humor to make people like him, and ends up resorting to be the butt of most of his jokes. you don’t just develop a good sense of humor out of a brainwash, and that’s not something you can program in. i think that was a remnant of before, and he’s so good at bullying people and coming up with roasts - i just think that in p!g the roasts were about him.

KAEDE is baby but her p!g personality seriously reminds me of any ~quirky/edgy~ girl in a teen coming of age story who tries to be edgy and cool and act like she doesn’t care but deep down, she really does. if she didn’t have an empathetic personality, she wouldn’t want to end the game. i also think she has that self-identifying QuIrKy personality because its like she lives in her own narrative, practically announcing this story is about her and she is the protagonist. i know i used to self narrate like that and distinguish how i was different when i was like. 15-16. she has a tumblr. 

I really like the theory where KAITO is a make-a-wish kid who was better when he was younger but relapses later in teens. he never used his wish before, so he decides to use it now to be on danganronpa and become the hero he always wanted to be. i also think he might have joined as a way to raise awareness about adolescent healthcare. definitely the type who puts on a “heroic” character to make everyone else feel better about the fact he is literally dying of a terminal illness, and keeps that act up till the end. 

i think KOREKIYO is still a serial killer. i think honestly a reason why he mightve auditioned for danganronpa is because he is a serial killer. maybe his sister found out and he felt so much shame that’s why he auditioned. he probably mentioned why in his interview because duh, tell them im a serial killer and then only reason im coming clean is my sister found out and im ashamed, that is like a guarantee to get on the show.  i LOVE the theory that his sister is still alive, however, and has to watch her brother go insane because they wrote her into the story as the villain. because technically, she brought on this guilt, and is the reason why he auditioned - as a way to cause despair, twist it around so she’s the one to blame for his insanity. also, because its pretty accepted DR members become celebrities, kork’s sister is totally bombarded with paparazzi and is demonized in the media. she might end up writing a tell-all memoir about kork’s actual childhood and personality. quiet kid, thoughtful, interested in anthropology, she never thought he’d hurt a fly. watching her brother go insane probably destroyed her. 

I also think, timeline wise, kork is probably one of the oldest members along with rantaro. tbh i think kork actually graduated hs and went on a gap year doing the whole “hitchhike around the world to discover myself thing” which is where he began killing people. he was getting ready to go to college when his sister found out about what he did. this is when he decided to go on danganronpa instead of university. this would help explain why he knows so much about other cultures/travel/been so many places with so many memories/killed/is knowledgable on a level most other students are not. this would place him at like, 20-21, where everyone else is like 15-18.

ok so there’s two p!g RANTARO, p!g before 53 and p!p!g before 52. i’d like to establish now i think rantaro is the oldest of the characters, seeing as though he was already pretty old to begin with in 52, it takes time between television seasons, and he was in another game. so im placing him like 21-23, similar to yasuhiro in d1 being so much older than everyone else. i do think, in all iterations, rantaro was pretty much raising his sisters, though i don’t think he had twelve like the story (i think that’s an exaggeration, his sisters mean a lot to him, lets make him have a TON and then lose them all and feel GUILTY) rantaro joined the first game, partially to get money for his family and hopefully establish them as celebrities and let them have a comfy lifestyle, even if he doesn’t live...and also to finally ahve some sort of experience without his siblings tagging along. if he’s been raising his sisters all his life, he’s never had like something that’s JUST his. that’s his adventure. 52 is his ULTIMATE adventure. ahaha. mostly for money, kind of dreading it, still a tiny bit excited

ok p!g rantaro between 52 and 53 probably came back broken. he did the signings and appearances, but mostly wanted to spend time with his family and make sure they were set up. i think he knew the whole like few months between seasons he had to go on another show, but he did’t tell his sisters. his family found out when they saw a billboard with his face plastered on it hyping up the return of a fan favorite. yikes!

ok i get it a lot of people hate HIMIKO but i think she’s not nearly as similar as other “useless” characters in other games. its like, pretty clear she’s depressed, and the only thing she’s holding onto with dear life is magic. lack of hygiene, lack of personal care, constantly tired, social interaction exhausts - she has depression, but she’s not an UWU depressed character. so people find her depressive traits (which are some of the most realistic portrayals of mental health in the series) SUPER annoygin. she joined dr because she was completely lost and needed some sort of direction in her life, even if she’ll die for it. the thing is, even with direction, her mental state didn’t change because she wasn’t getting legitimate help. it’s like that one SNL skit that’s like. same sad you from before but in a new place. i also think she knows the magic is not real, because how could she not. i think she’s so adamant that it IS real, less as a way to convince others, and more of a way to convince herself. it’s like really super cruel that team danganronpa took a girl who is desperate for meaning and gave her literally a meaningless, fake talent.

i also kin himiko and find her a comfort character because i feel seen by her, replacing her useless talent of magic with mine of like shitty film making and comedy. i am seen.

related i don’t think she’s nearly as ugly as everyone says she is, i think she’s probably just depressed and takes absolutely no care of her hygiene and sleep and looks like sick and greasy all the time. same queen.

honest to god i think RYOMA’s backstory, tennis and all, is like 100% real and he’s the only one who keeps all of his memories except for the fact this is a tv show. i think he rolled up, a hot fucking mess, and the danganronpa team were like damn. we cannot improve upon this. 

#ryoma hoshi #himiko yumeno #rantaro amami #korekiyo shinguji #kaito momota #kaede akamatsu #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #drv3 #killing harmony #pg dr #pre!game danganronpa #danganronpa #theories #danganronpa spoilers

[purplexflamingo]

Creature of the night- Chapter one

I don’t know if I am going to write out a big thing for this, but it was something I felt inspired to write out. Though I have not really written out a thing in along time. This is just some AU. I really like vampires. They are a fun concept.

 " Sir, if I could have a moment of your time." Toni rushed after her boss before he could finish locking up for the night. Swallowing her pride she hoped her efforts would help. Never being one to ask for hand outs at all, she was rather hard working. Once her boss halted in his tracks, he glanced back at the female. Almost as if he were annoyed just a tad, it had been a long day for them both. Taking it now as her opportunity- now or never. " You know I've been working here for two years now and I was wondering, is there anyway I could get a raise? I..I really could us it." Trailing off on her words as she noticed his expression, it was disheartening.

  She bit her bottom lip and felt her stomach sink. Sensing the mistake she possibly made" It does not work that way sweetheart, sorry." Without batting an eye he shut her off without explanations. Causing her to use the small ounce of confidence to beg a little. Even though using her family felt disgusting to her. " B-but sir, my brother has been sick and we've been really struggling to make rent. He's missed so much work we--" It was no use, his demeanor gave off enough to make her feel sick to her stomach. " I am sorry, that is all I can say. Now good night Toni." Huffing she pressed forward, using her shoulder to push open the front door. So pissed off she didn't realize how quickly she marched off and how forceful she was with the door. Caring less if he were to claim she was giving him attitude.

 Stepping outside the night breeze caressed her face and right then she felt her eyes swell. The building of stress began to wear her down, the constant begging of extra shifts from coworkers due to the lack of gigs. Not having a temporarily drummer to fill in for her brother made it impossible to even perform. Causing the Vexes to be on hold and lack of income taking a large toll. Tired of living on the awful side of town with numerous stories of break ins and much worse. Walking home was a bit dangerous. Due to the fact she did not have a car and couldn't drive she walked to and from work. It was a small distance after all. But for her own safety she carried a pocket knife. Mostly because her brother Anthony insists.

 Flinching when the street light burnt out. Placing a hand over her chest till her breathing died down, dread consumed her already. Mentally telling herself to just go, just walk, do not look back. Do not stop. Taking a deep breath, she already knew something felt off. 

Exhaling she began her walk home, listening to her surroundings. Unfortunately her heels clicked rather loudly against the cement, making her regret wearing them. Hues wandering and mostly searching for shadows that have been thrown off by the constant flicking of street lamps. Passing by several closed businesses, that closed earlier than the bar. It made her feel more at risk with all these dark buildings. If she had to guess it was possibly late after midnight now. Hence why the streets were dead silent. Most people have gone home, but sometimes she'd see drunks stumbling about. Strange how none were in sight, though she was ever so grateful not having to deal with them. Drunks were intimidating and their eyes, they were hard to read. She dealt with numerous angry ones at her job and it always left her feeling shaken up. It was always unpleasant.

   Lost in her thoughts she began to think and plan tomorrow. Counting her pay checks already and assuming how much she'd need left to reach her goal. Part of her was hoping to convince Marnie to pay a little more for rent, bracing herself for a possible fight over it. There was no way Anthony could pay all of his share. Marnie was hard to deal with in situations as such. Though now was not the time to lose her or else the band would crumble.

 Out of the corner of her eye a shadowy figure slid out of an alley way, making her nervous causing her to pick up her speed a bit. Which could be a mistake. Recalling how in this area that she had to pass through a few 'accident’ locations of mysterious deaths that had happened. She did not want to be prey. " Wait--!"  The voice called out after her, but she continued on not bothering to look back. But a flash flew by her stunning her, stumbling back on her heels, nearly falling back. Her eyes met with a glowing red pair, the color in her face began to drain. A monster? " Leave me alone..!" In a panic she barked at the other out of fear. " Toni- Toni it's me...!" Squinting through the darkness she could slowly make out the features and was in absolute disbelief. " P-paul? your eyes, are you ok?" Part of her also wanted to express how she felt about being startled like that. 

 It was mostly her fault as she failed to tune in with the world, she had a power that granted her the ability to hear ten times more than a mortal human. " I'll explain later, but I need to get you outta here!" His hand was cold to the touch, causing her to shiver as if the heat fled her body. Stumbling after him, she followed his lead, something pulling her in making her obey. As she tried to keep up with his speed she felt her calves tighten and strain. The after effects of being on your feel all day. Causing her to be thrown off and miss stepping. With a painful yelp, she sprang her ankle tumbling onto the ground. Losing her grip with Paul's hand in the process. It was hard to focus on anything else, the pain hurt so bad and her head pounded from the stress- and how tired she felt. 

  The hissing behind set her on alert and she realized the presenting danger now. A purple light shot over head, it was the black star beam. Knocking, whatever she heard, down. " We have to hurry..!" Returning to her Paul began to lift her into his arms with ease. Though he felt tense, it was strange. It was as if the contact sickened him or so she was picking up. Little did she know it was straining him and testing his resistance. He was able to disguise his feelings.

 Before she knew it they stood outside her building. The creature she heard was no where in sight, she was thankful she didn’t even glance back to look at it. As long as it was no where near her home everything would be alright. Eyes scanning the windows, searching for hers, seeing the lights were still off. Anthony must have gone to bed, she thought. Ascending the stairs Paul remained cautious, he seemed on edge. With the fact they were being stalked anyone would feel this way. Toni was just all around in shock, she had a hard time processing the current events. Other than picking up on his auras. A mixture of fear and confusion- protection and defense. 

 " Do you have your key?" He softly asked as he stood at her apartment door. " Oh I do, I think...I hope I did not drop it." Fishing around in her jacket pocket she pulled out a key ring. Containing four different keys. Calmly he took them from her and picked the one she instructed him to. Unlocking the door he seemed hesitant. " You can come in you know, Anthony doesn't mind you visiting besides he might be asleep. And Marnie is gone." Hearing her he then proceeded to enter. The front door leading into the living room/kitchen area. Setting her on the love seat, crouching down to proceed to remove her heels. " How is your ankle?" For a moment she forgot about the accident and she shook her head. " It's numb now, the blood must have rushed to it." This prompted silence from him, it was weird, he seemed so off.  Was it something she said? " Be straight with me, what is wrong? Don't sugar coat it, darling..." 

 Eyes attempting to meet with his, though he refused contact. " If you must know..I had a run in with some blokes. I thought they were tryin' to rob me after the show, but little did I know they weren't some mortals. They were a bunch of vampires. And well....one of them bite me. I got away before they could do worse..." Furrowing her brows she was really thrown off, vampires, they were fiction and Hollywood made up. Stories her brother would read or watch. They were real? Earth was a strange planet full of questionable creatures. " You're a vampire?"

 " ‘Fraid so...and I don't know what to do about it. I was gonna do some research and ask the guys for some help, but then I knew you were their next target. You were in their path, they either destroy everything they touch or turn them." Paul kept his distance especially with how he noticed Toni was responding. Needless to say he did not  want to risk anything. “ How did you know?” Parting her lips she curiously asked and he pointed to the star painted on his eye. It then connected with her. Not allowing her to say anything else he piped up. " Well shall we bandage up?" Rising to his feet he was more than willing to aid her. Heading towards her bathroom, he was familiar with her home. " Oh, wait, Paul please be quiet....Anthony is most likely sleeping, he is still sick." A part of her felt sick to her stomach remembering her rejection and her worry for him, it's been nearly a week with no signs of improvement. Negative thoughts followed as she imagined the worst in his situation. Because of how strong she felt she began to weep. She wanted to go check on him, but there was no way she could do it without causing herself more pain. Sniffling she wiped her eyes with her fingers, as her make up began to bleed. 

  Once he returned she forced herself to hide her emotions, for various reasons. He prepared the wrap inching close to her ankle, noticing how she flinched a little, he shifted his gaze towards her. " I promise I won't hurt you. I am not a monster." Those words alone were enough to get her to relax a little as he finished. " Oh I grabbed this ice pack to, it should help with swelling." Toni couldn't help, but stare in awe. Despite his transitioning he was the same old Paul. He behaved nothing like the creatures she heard of. " Thank you, really I.....Paul can you stay the night? I don't want you going back out there if they are roaming. What if they try to kill you?" Claiming the spot beside he, he didn't speak, it was as if he was looking for the right words. " Well, just for tonight. Because I have to get back with the guys...see if they can help me find a cure or something. I can't live like this." He did have a point, but Toni felt better in the agreement. “ I’ll call Angel in the morning and see if she can mend my ankle before work.” As the mood shifted Toni frantically tried to find something.

" Want to watch a movie?" To lighten the mood she suggested and Paul was delighted. Deeming it was safe to change the subject as he knew exactly what she was hiding from him, he accidentally gained access to her overwhelming thoughts. Normally resisting that, but he has a slip up every now and then. For a moment his eyes were on Anthony’s door before he glanced back at her. Wanting to help, but there was a limit to what he could do currently and he did not want to intrude too much. Unsure how she’d be if he offered any form of help. Paul did not want to watch them sink, it was upsetting and to see their flames burn out. Giving the benefit of doubt to Toni as she felt feeling hard than anyone else. Though when the positive happens she is a breath of fresh air and energy. Who chooses to suffer in silence.

 An hour passes and Toni mindlessly inched her self over to Paul as an attempt to cozy up. But coming in contact with his skin reminded her, muttering. "  You're so cold." Adjusting herself to share some of her blankets with him as if that’d help his case. " It's apart of the whole undead thing, babe. I can’t do anything about it." Admittedly after awhile the cold did not bother her especially as she was lost in the moment. Periodically glancing at him during the film and he of course noticed. Chuckling in response " What?". “ Nothing...I just want to look at you.” Lifting herself up, moving closer, she placed a kiss on his lips. Accepting it Paul watched her closely as he could pick up on her heart beat, so loudly, and scent of the living. Able to pin point the strongest tempting veings. Coiling her arms around his neck she gave him an embrace. Again he felt stiff and resistant, but he did not push her away. All that went through his mind were confliction and urges. Some part of darkness nagged at him to steal a bite, but his will power fought against it. He was not a blood sucker. Despite feeling his fangs grow an inch. Sooner than expect she fell asleep and he was able to detach her gently so, putting the blanket around her. Left sitting there for most of the night until he was able to rest. 

The sound burning and smell of smoke woke Toni instantly in a panic. “ Oh god!” Paul’s hand was beginning to caught flame and it startled him awake too. “ CLOSE THE CURTAINS!” A burst of energy coursed through her as she tried to get up. Anthony opened his door in confusion at the chaos. Toni remembered her injury and struggled to climb to her feet. “ An-anthony! Anthony please- close the curtains!” Gesturing towards the large windows he did as asked without a second thought. Using a pillow she put out the flame. “ The sunlight-- we should’ve covered the windows last night.” Panting she felt awful and took his hand into her own. Examining it along with Paul. “ I hope it doesn’t scar.”

“ What the fuck is going on?” Anthony interrupted. 

#my writting #oc x canon #ocs #vampire #au #primadonna #toni romero #anthony romero #ratman #starchild #chapter one #creatures of the night

[m-602]

The Road to Mayhem

((So I was struggling to come up with a story that wasn’t filled with absolute angst... Then I got the idea to make a bunch of lighthearted one-shots between the sonas over at Discord. Specifically, this includes me, @astel4, @sillypanda3, @foxyfan666‘s Reaper, @kittydoesthings and her void baby Shadow, and @a-fanfic-fan‘s Silver.))

((Also... Yes, M’s full name has been revealed to be “Mikearu”... Yes, he’s in the body of a shadow lich child... No, I’m not giving context as to how that happened. It was a Discord RP and explaining it here would take up WAY too much text space...))

((Warning. There is some swearing here. Sorry!))

((Anyways... I hope you enjoy!))

((Happy Thanksgiving!))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Panda, put that halberd down right now!”

“No! I don’t think I will!”

That describes basically every day in the house. What would normally be every parent’s nightmare is just an everyday occurrence to the strange family of friends. When you hear about family spending time together, a self-entitled mother chasing around a halberd-wielding feral child wouldn’t even crack top fifteen. And yet… here we are.

Just family things.

Astel: “You’re gonna hurt yourself! Or someone else!”

Panda: “Is that a challenge?~”

A: “Wha- No! Now give it here!”

P: “Nope! This is mine!~”

Well, it would’ve still been hers. But a magical aura around the weapon indicated the end of that. It floats over to Astel’s outstretched hands.

A: “That’s enough, young lady!”

P: “What the fuck?! Give it back!”

She wasn’t giving it back. Mom mode Astel is currently trying to tame the feral child - a hopeless endeavor, yet one she attempts anyone. She cares about her too-

Silver: “Oooh.~ Shiny!~”

And with that, the halberd was out of Astel’s hands, the thief literally sliding the stairs as if they were rails.

A: “Gah! Silver! Get back here!”

Yep… Just family things… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To take a break from the chaos, let’s transition to something every family can relate to - actual family time, of course! The fireplace adorned living room is perfect for this, a familiar, bright blue flame warming the room from the cold, snow-less night. Everyone was simply doing their own thing, relaxing after running out of things to do. Chaos already reigned for most of the day, so it’s time to let order take the wheel. And as expected… it’s rather nice.

Mikaeru: “I go’ ho’ choco!~”

Even better - hot chocolate! Who doesn’t love hot chocolate? The lich, who decided to stay in his child form after the whole memory dive event, was now coming out of the tray filled with mugs. Within each one was a swirling, chocolatey beverage that warmed one to their very spirit. Even Mikearu, who didn’t need to drink or eat, enjoyed the stuff!

He offers one to Kitty. She gently takes a mug from the tray to avoid spilling it. And then proceeds to start slurping it down.

He offers one to Astel. She accepts in a heartbeat. She really loves chocolate…

He offers one to Silver. She immediately stashes it in her backpack. What a strange little thing…

He offers one to Reaper. She accepts it rather quickly as well. Likely for the added warmth.

He offers one to Panda. She’s too busy listening to music through her headphones. That’s fine, though! He just places it next to her in case she wanted it later.

He places his own drink on the table, dashing into the kitchen to put away the tray. When he returns, he’s immediately seated on the couch, finally taking a moment to relax.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the silence - odd for a “family” of chaotic idiots. It’s around this moment that Panda would try to cause mischief or Silver would… be Silver. But nope. Nothing of the sort here… It’s kind of terrifying how all these people, who were the direct opposite of order in their own ways, could just sit around and enjoy themselves in the quiet.

Subconsciously, he let himself lean on the closest person on the couch… Which turned out to be Kitty. She just shrugged and placed an arm around the child.

He had brought his hot chocolate closer, taking sips of it as the azure flames roared from the fireplace. This is what he had imagined when he thought of “spending time with friends” - it’s not much… but it’s something… 

He didn’t even notice his eyes start to flutter close as he drifted off to sleep, a nearly finished mug of hot chocolate at rest on the table in front of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And judging by all the screaming, we’ve fallen back into the chaotic routine.

Reaper: “Who the hell gave Silver the wheel?!”

A: “Silver, did! She stole the wheel!”

A child who embodies cartoon logic at its finest is probably the last person you want driving the car. Mikearu had been traveling side by side with the vehicle… Now he’s trying to get anyone he can out of the death-mobile’s way. He sends a message to Astel within the shared mind.

M: ”A-Astel! Can’t you stop her?!”

A: “I’m trying! She won’t give me the wheel! She won’t even let me get close, and I’m sitting in the damn driver’s seat!”

Eclipse: “You know… You could always try freezing her like an ice sculpture.~”

Ikearu: [“OR JUST LET ME TEAR HER APART.~”]

M and A: “NOT HELPING!!!”

A cacophony of screams (excluding Silver’s overly enthusiastic laugh) roared from the out of control vehicle as it barreled down the road. People scrambled to jump out of the way - the strugglers were pulled away by a black and blue blur.

S: “Oooh.~ Railroad tracks!”

R,A, and Kitty: “WAIT, WHAT?!”

Yep. They were heading for railroad tracks. Hey, at least there wasn-

*HOOOOOOONK*

There was a train heading down the tracks. Right towards them. And Silver, being the maniacal child she is, wasn’t stopping.

M: “Oh, for the love of-”

Doing the only thing he can think of, he chained the rear wheels of the car, keeping them from spinning. Unfortunately, this also caused them to completely snap of the car due to the amount of force they were exerting. The rear of the car suddenly dropped lower as it slowed down exponentially, coming to a stop just before the tracks. Just in time, too - the train had just passed by them the moment they stopped. Any moment later, and…

Everyone (except Silver, who was still laughing) breathed a sigh of relief as they evacuated the car. Mikearu stood behind the vehicle, massaging his neck. He looked like the embodiment of stress.

M: “You know… A’ leas’ one of you has powers… You could’ve done somethin’, too!”

A: “I was kinda busy trying to get Silver off the wheel!”

R, gesturing to the car: “And I didn’t want *that* to happen.”

K: “Hey, at least we’re all safe…”

Silver had just hopped out of the car at that time.

S: “Woohoo! Let’s go again!”

Everyone else: “NO!!!”

S: “Aww… You’re no fun!”

At least one of them was about to correct her and say they also weren’t crazy… But likely didn’t since that would’ve been a direct lie. Everyone here is crazy - that’s why they’re a “family” after all.

Using Mikearu’s chains, Reaper’s strings, and everyone’s effort (excluding Silver - she’s still mad), they started dragging the car back home… which was quite a ways away from where they were. On the topic of home, a thought crossed Reaper’s mind.

R: “...Was it a good idea to leave Panda by herself in the house?”

Everyone else: “...”

It was safe to say that they were coming back to a trashed living room… And weapons sticking out of the couch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Speaking of Panda… She’s been acting kind of weird lately… You surely wouldn’t expect her of all people to hold her hands up to Astel and ask to be picked up.

P: “Up?”

The teenager turned mother picked her up upon the request, taking her over to the couch. Panda is rested on her lap as she’s held close.

A: “What’s wrong, hun?”

P: “Me. A-All I do is h-hurt you or Mikey or Reaper or even Kitty. I-I’m a b-bad person…”

A: “That’s not true, hun…”

P: “It is! I’m bad! Bad!”

Astel just held the self-loathing girl in her arms, trying to calm her down. It… was kind of bewildering to see her like this. She’s normally not the kind of person to be this upset over something. Either she shrugs it off or reacts with anger.

A: “...We don’t mind being hurt, y’know?”

P: “T-That doesn’t make sense!”

A: “What I mean is… We don’t mind being hurt if it means you’re okay…”

P: “But why?! W-Why do you care about me?!”

A: “Because we love you.~ We love you for who you are…”

P: “B-But… I’m nothing special… A-All I do is h-hurt-”

A familiar black and blue blur made its way to the couch. Panda suddenly found herself being hugged by a familiar lich child.

M: “You’re special to us! We like havin’ you around! And more importantly, we’re always here for you, Panda!”

P: “...”

The trio just kind of hugged it out, one of them kind of uncomfortable with the sudden affection. But she wasn’t about to ruin the moment… For once, she’ll stay quiet about this…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

E: “‘Stel!! How the hell do you make this shit?!”

A: “*snrk*”

Thanksgiving dinner was taking quite a while to make… Why was that? Because Eclipse had decided it was the perfect time to take over… Right when Astel was starting to make pie and cranberry sauce… Even more unfortunate is the fact that, for some reason, Astel decided to try making both at the same time.

E: “THE CRANBERRIES ARE BOILING OVER!!! ‘STEL, WHAT DO I DO?!”

A: “Literally all you have to do is lift the pot for two minutes, it’s fine.”

I: [“WHO KNEW THE DREADED NIGHTMARE QUEEN WAS A TERRIBLE COOK?~”]

M: “Pffft…”

E: “Quiet! The both of you!”

And of course the other minds are not help either. They’re enjoying the show!

Kitty would’ve helped… If she wasn’t laughing at the Nightmare Queen’s terrible cooking skills, too. Occasionally, a stretchy arm would give her the utensil she needed… But only once or twice.

E: “When the hell am I supposed to take out the pie?!”

A: “Not now, dumbass! I just put it in before you decided to take over!”

E: “Why you-”

M and I: “CAN YOU PLEASE JUST FOCUS ON THE DAMN FOOD?!”

Astel’s shadow trying to cook is proving to be harder to handle than the whole “kill everything” plan. Mainly because even said shadow has no idea what the heck she’s doing. Then again, Eclipse did this to herself when she decided to take over Astel’s body.

E: “What do I do now?!”

A: “Just wait! The food needs to cook!”

The door slamming open cuts them both off… As well as Kitty’s outburst.

K: “Shadow, wha- Did you kill those yourself?!”

Shadow: “Well… duh. How else were we gonna get a proper Thanksgiving dinner?”

K: “We could’ve just bought one!”

The void child just shrugged with two dead turkeys in either hand. Eclipse just stares at the child, coming to the slow realization that they’ll want a cooked turkey.

A: “Sure you don’t want me to cook?~”

E: “Well- Wait, hell no!”

I: [“YES, CAUSE YOU’VE BEEN DOING SO WELL BEFORE…”]

E: “NOT HELPING!!!”

Welp… Sucks to be you, Eclipse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After much bickering, culinary incompetence, and screeching, Thanksgiving dinner was finished. It’s honestly a miracle the house didn’t burn down with how clueless Eclipse was.

The food was already at the table the moment it was prepared. You can thank Mikearu for that…

Everyone had taken their seats, ready to dig in to the massive meal - even those who didn’t need to eat or didn’t eat normal food were waiting patiently to prepare their plates. Their reasoning?

M: “I’ s’Thanksgivin’! Why wouldn’ I?”

R: “Agreed.”

Sh: “I killed it. That’s all…”

And nothing more was said. Yep, just the usual.

The only problem was convincing Eclipse to give Astel her body back. It took a lot of mental and physical bickering to finally get the Nightmare Queen to give in, with Ikearu not doing the lights any favors.

I: [“SHE COOKED THE FOOD. LETTING HER HAVE ASTEL’S BODY FOR A GOOD WHILE SHOULD BE REWARD PLENT, HM?~”]

M: “Just shut up, you irritating pest.”

I: [GRR… YOU!]

It was as exhausting as it sounds. Definitely made the actual meal itself worth all the trouble. Though all the grumbling in the shared mind indicated that Eclipse wasn’t too happy with the arrangement in any way, shape, or form.

What children…

Surprisingly, the food was delicious! Guess a lot of good fortune saved their skins… and their stomachs.

It was nice. And it was more than just warming silence during a cold night. Everyone was chatting, making jokes, getting on each other’s nerves, the usual. It was all one could ask for a Thanksgiving dinner.

M: “Mm… I’m grateful to have me’ you guys.”

A: “Aw… Same here!”

K: “Yep.”

R: “Happy Thanksgiving, guys!”

Sh: “Heh… Whatever…”

P: “Yep, sure…”

And Silver was stuffing food into her backpack… Again… At least she was eating it, even if she wasn’t actively engaging with anyone else.

For a bunch of idiots on the Road to Mayhem… They were actually having a good time together…

If you didn’t know any better… You could probably call them a real family… 

#one-shots #m #mikearu #the discord family #aka #the chaos gang #tw swearing #funny moments #fluffy moments #idiot friends being family #discord shenanigans

[albionscastle]

First Impressions 7 - New Friends and Old Enemies

I’m writing slowly but I am writing!!!! I’m working two jobs right now so updates will be slow, but still coming.

There brief mentions of domestic violence, past, in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I actually really like Zac Efron but I thought he had the perfect look to be a Wickham character so there we go. 

FIC MASTERLIST

FIRST IMPRESSIONS 7

NEW FRIENDS AND OLD ENEMIES

LIZZIE

Colin Ryan being back in town was an unexpected and decidedly unpleasant turn of events. It had been 3 years since she’d last seen him, hightailing it out of town after she’d threatened to expose his true nature. She still shivered in fear when she thought about that last day with him, how she’d finally gathered the courage to leave, the bruises on his ribs a stark reminder of his temper. Oh, he’d slapped her, pulled her hair, screamed in her face, but for the first time she’d felt strong, strong enough to get out. With all the proof she’d gathered there was nothing that he could do except let her go and get out of town.

She’d dealt with the fallout for a year, the gossip and the finger pointing, the bill that Colin’s parents had stuck her with for the wedding, not to mention the constant lamenting of her mother. The only person to ever know what had really happened was Maya, and as far as anyone else was concerned, well it was none of their fucking business.

Though now she knew for a fact that Lydia had known about it all along and after the incident with Colin the day before she was pretty sure that Jack and Tom had cottoned on to it too. She had shrunk, all her strength had gone until the moment Jack had taken her hand. Disgusted with herself and stunned at his thoughtfulness, Lizzie had spent the whole night tossing and turning, unable to quiet her thoughts, even with her medication.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, she passed Maya and Lydia sound asleep on the couches. For all the issues Lyds had, she was staunchly loyal to her sisters and had been able to make her laugh. Waking her before 9am however merely guaranteed you a slew of obscenities and a bitchy mood for the rest of the day, didn’t matter who you were. Maya, though, woke to the smell of the coffee maker, shuffling into the kitchen quietly.

“How are you doing, Lizzie?”

Lizzie shrugged, taking another sip of her Death Wish under her sister’s disapproving eye.

“I didn’t sleep much.”

“Drinking that crap won’t help. Did you take your meds?”

“Yes, mom, I did.” Lizzie rolled her eyes and kept sipping her coffee.

Maya was definitely the only one, other than her doctor, who knew about that. Lizzie even went so far as to have her prescription filled at the next town over, just so no one could add to the gossip. There was still so much stigma attached to her condition and the cause of it that it was best just to stay quiet.

“I’m sure he won’t be here long.”

“I don’t understand why he’s here at all. His parents moved away, retired to Aspen or some such shit. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be here.”

Maya nodded sympathetically, getting up to raid the fridge.

“Knowing that jerk I’m sure we’ll know sooner rather than later. But we aren’t going to let him get to us, right Liz?”

“Don’t worry about me, Maya. It was a shock seeing him yesterday, but now I know he’s here I can handle it. I won’t let him get to me again.”

“I’ll fucking kick him in the nuts if he ever comes near you again.” Lydia muttered, dragging herself  over to the coffee machine.

“Language Lydia!”

“Bite me Maya.”

“Stop it you two.” Lizzie muttered.

After breakfast, which was more pleasant than expected with Lydia full of caffeine, they finished a rough draft of her paper and attempted to talk some sense into her about her wardrobe. As always it was a waste of time, but Lizzie would never stop trying.

They were meeting mary and Kate for lunch at the park, the first time all the sisters had been together since Kate’s birthday party. Mary’s job and the band meant she rarely left the city and kate had been kept fairly cloistered since she entered the convent, only able to communicate through letters. Lizzie missed them both terribly and unashamedly cried when she hugged Kate, looking both like a child and a grown up in her brown habit, her eyes as big and serious as ever.

“You look happy Katie.” Lizzie whispered, not willing to let her sister go.

“I am happy, Lizzie. The convent is so peaceful and we do so much outreach. It’s perfect for me.”

Kate, or Sister Mary Kate as she would soon be known, was the center of attention. From the city Mary was in contact almost daily, especially with Maya who went to class close to where she worked. Seeing her was a happy extension of the texts and calls that were normal. Her girlfriend was a little hesitant at first, but Kate was ecstatic to meet her and quickly erased her fears of being accepted. It was just perfect, sitting on their blankets, eating and talking, just the 6 of them. Any residual ill feeling that Lizzie had about Colin was swept away in the balm of her sisters.

A soccer ball suddenly flew towards them, expertly caught by kate before it could destroy their picnic. Hot on it’s heels was a man, shirtless and so well built that even katie was gawking open mouthed.

“Sorry ladies, it just got away from me.” His perfect white smile spread across his face as he took in each of the girls in turn.

For her part, Lizzie had never seen a more gorgeous man her whole life. He turned that megawatt smile onto her and she couldn’t help but respond in kind, her cheeks flushing as he looked her up and down before holding out his hand.

“Hi, name’s Brad, Grad Wick.”

JACK

Jack couldn’t sleep, he was still wide awake at 2am, his brain refusing to shut off. He tossed and turned, kicking the blankets off then pulling them up again. He warmed milk in the tiny suite microwave and even counted sheep, but nothing worked. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Elizabeth cowering in front of Colin Ryan.

It pissed him off.

If there was one thing he hated it was men who abused women. It didn’t matter which woman, he abhorred it. Had Caro come to him saying she’d been hit he would have felt the same way, despite how much he disliked her. There was no excuse for violence in a relationship and least of all against someone as small as Elizabeth Bennet. He didn’t even want to imagine the extent of the abused, but his mind of course had other ideas. Instead of sleeping he’d been he’d been laying there while increasingly worse scenarios had flashed in his head.

With a 5 am call time he decided there was no use in trying to sleep any longer. He stumbled out to the bathroom, hanging his head under the cold shower spray to try and clear the cobwebs. What the fuck was wrong with him lately? Honestly this shoot couldn’t be over quickly enough in his opinion, he needed to get home, walk the glenns and get his shit together. He was a grown man, successful, in demand and yet this one bloody woman had managed to derail his peace of mind. It didn’t matter how pretty, smart or nice she was, they were from two different worlds. When he left Indiana in November he would never see her again.

The twinge he felt in his chest at that thought was something he was going to ignore.

She’d hugged him though, held his hand.

He tried to tell himself it was just the situation, that she would have done the same with Tom. The part of him that he wanted to shut up disagreed, that traitorous voice was telling him that Elizabeth might actually like him. They were both adults and maybe her prickliness was just a product of her former relationship. He just had to be….less aggressive, more….

“Don be an eejit.” he muttered as he dressed. “The last thing ye need is a fuckin woman complicatin the shite outa things.”

Lizzie wasn’t a roll in the hay type of woman and that’s all he wanted. One and done, no complications, no emotions, no phone calls, no nothing. He’d vowed he’d never let another woman close after Lisa and he needed to keep to that. No distracting redheads. He would be polite and nothing more.

If he ended each day imagining how good she might feel beneath him, or astride him, her hair falling around them both, then so be it. Taking himself in hand was infinitely preferable to the fallout that would come from being intimately involved with a Bennet.

Determined, and his mind made up, Jack was feeling a lot better when he arrived on set. Even Caro had backed off enough that he didn't dread being at work anymore, all he had to do was get through the next six weeks and he’d be home. There were any number of discrete, gorgeous women he could entice to bed if he wanted. By Christmas all this bullshit would be in the past.

“Jack!” Tom was trotting to catch up with him as he left the set for the day. “Do you want to do for a run?”

Jack was pretty sure that Tom’s new love of running was based more on necessity than a desire to exercise. With the lovely Maya no longer sharing his bed every night, the lad needed to run off all that sexual frustration.

And so did he if he was completely honest.

The late September weather was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat of July and August in Indiana and Jack barely broke a sweat as they jogged around the lakefront park. His endorphins had him feeling much better and the physical exercise would certainly ensure a good night’s sleep.

“Hold up mate!” Tom panted, bending over to catch his breath.

“Ye ain’t givin up already are ye lad?”

“Just give me a second old man.” Tom groaned. “Not all of us have your stamina.”

“Hence why ye still have the body of a teenage boy.”

“Shut it Angel Face.”

Jack winced slightly, apparently some fans had likened his unshaven face to something like a cherub and Tom hadn’t let it go since. His aversion to the comparison was a constant source of delight to Tom, who seemed to love nothing more than getting under his skin.

Snarky cunt.

He pushed Tom a little further before taking pity on him and slowing to a walk. The park was full of people, families picnicking and using the playgrounds, couples walking hand in hand. If he felt a twinge of envy, he quickly shoved it down deep. Alone was better, alone was safe.

“Tom! Jack!” Lydia’s loud call couldn’t be ignored and he groaned inwardly as Tom trotted off in the direction of the Bennet sisters.

All five of them were there, but Jack saw only one. Elizabeth sat, leaning on her elbows and laughing at the man who sat with them. He had never seen her smile like that at him, in fact he was pretty sure this was the first time he’d ever seen her really laugh.

His gut twisted.

Tom was already sitting down, an arm around Maya, commenting on Mary’s tattoo. Kate, the novice nun, smiled warmly at him and he moved closer. The memory of Elizabeth’s hand in his bolstered him, even though she was no longer laughing. He raised a hand in greeting, getting a curt nod in response.

“How are ye all doin?” Jack was about to sit down when the breath was knocked out of him in shock.

The man beside Elizabeth turned and Jack felt himself freeze, anger and disgust rolling through him.

What the fuck was that piece of shit doing there?

He looked at Elizabeth who seemed confused, then at Bradley Wick who sat there smirking, daring him to say something.

That would have been a mistake.

Instead he turned, without saying a word, and walked away.

LIZZIE

He really was a rude bastard. She watched as Jack walked away, a stunned looking Tom hot on his heels. Just when she thought there was a slight that she might have misjudged him, he had just merely reinforced her dislike of him.

Arrogant, uptight assclown.

“Nice to see some things never change.” Brad remarked wryly from beside her.

“You know Jack?”

“Shit, I’ve known him since drama school. He was just as big a cock back then.”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed, something in Jack’s eyes had seemed deeply shocked when he’d seen Brad. there was definitely more to this story.

“Bastard never liked me. Too full of himself to pay attention to lowly nobodies like me.” Brad laughed quietly.

“Seems like there might be some history there.” Lizzie cautiously, curious despite herself.

“You noticed that did you?”

“Kinda hard not to.”

Brad’s handsome face looked sad as he took a deep breath. Lizzie instantly felt sorry for him, having a feeling that what he was about to say hurt him.

“Jack was a year behind me at drama school, we met when we were both going out for a play. He seemed like a great guy, until I got the part instead of him. Then he found out that I’d grown up in an orphanage in Leeds. After that he did everything he could to ruin me. He’s talented, don’t get me wrong, I would have been more than happy to share roles, but no. It escalated in his second year, he was cast as my understudy in a play. It just got worse until eventually he got me fired, he stashed coke in my dressing room. I had a record from when I was a teen so when he told the director, well I was done. I got booted out of school for that too. Jack ended up with an agent and a slew of offers.”

“That’s awful.” Lizzie admitted.

She honestly hadn’t imagined that Jack was that much of a prick.

“I made do.” Brad shrugged. “He was young, insecure, and a lot of people do worse in our line of work.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” Lizzie sputtered. “Was that the last time you had contact?”

“I wish.” Brad murmured, looking at the ground. “I ran into him again last year on set. He didn’t recognize me at first, not for a few weeks. The girl he was with, Lisa, sweet girl. He treated her like shit, I found her crying one day and sat with her, he saw me with her and dragged her off. Next day I saw her getting in the cab to leave, her lip was all busted. I was fired the same day.”

Lizzie felt sick to her stomach, her head spinning. It was worse than she’d ever imagined, she never would have thought that he was violent. A vision of him standing beside her the day before, facing off Colin, came unbidden. The fucking nerve of him! To act like that when he’d done the exact same thing himself!

Her stomach protested for the rest of the afternoon as she fought to engage with her family. Brad had left soon after Jack, apologetic and charming. He’d offered to take her to dinner, something she’d rain-checked. What she wanted to do was to talk to Maya, to try and process what she’d just heard.

After they’d visited their parents and Lizzie had been forced to listen to her mother informing her that she’d run into ‘dear Colin’ at the store, she finally managed to take Maya aside, imparting everything she’d learned from Brad. She’d been as shocked as expected, her eyes wide as Lizzie spoke.

“I always thought he was just prickly.” Maya gasped. “Figured he would warm up eventually.”

“As if, he’s been a dick since the day we met him.”

Maya looked thoughtful as Lizzie paced back and forth in a tizzy.

“I can’t believe the fucking nerve of him. Where does he get off acting like he’s so much better than everyone else? It makes me sick Maya.”

“Maybe Brad was mistaken?”

“I doubt it Maya.” Lizzie snapped. “The guy was practically in tears when he was done. What possible reason could he have to lie?”

“I didn’t say lie, Lizzie, but maybe Jack wasn’t responsible for all his bad luck.”

Lizzie leveled her sister with a hard glare, she really was naive at times.

“You can’t talk him out of this one Mai, you just can’t. He hit his girlfriend!”

“Yeah, I guess you really can’t argue with that. But what about Tom? Why would he be his friend?”

“I’ll bet any amount of money that Tom has no idea. Jack’s an actor, he can make himself into anyone he wants.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing. He’ll be gone in a few weeks. Just don’t expect me to have anything to do with the asshole. I love Tom to death, but not even for you will I associate with an abuser.

“I understand. I’m just so sorry this happened.”

“I’m not, because now we know the truth of what he is.”

Even Maya couldn’t see the good in him now, and she was the one who liked everyone. By the time Lizzie got back to the apartment she’d apologized several times in text for sticking up for him. It didn’t matter, she thought sourly as she sat in her living room window, she never had to see him again unless she chose to. She was just grateful she’d found out now, instead of after she’d invited him to lunch to say thank you. He didn’t deserve a thank you, he deserved to be outed. Why Brad never had she understood, Lisa was an actress and he’d wanted to spare her the scandal. Besides Jack probably wouldn’t hesitate to ruin them both if the truth was even so much as hinted at. As much as Lizzie wanted everyone to know what a creep he was, she wouldn’t do that to Brad.

“How did everything get so fucked up?” she sighed, realising for the first time how utterly unsatisfied she was with everything.

Her life had been in a holding pattern since she’d called off the wedding and if Brad could overcome what he had then there was nothing to stop her.

It was time to stop being afraid to live.

JACK

Bradley Wick! Just when he thought he’d seen the last of the cunt here he was, as always, just in the shadows of his life. Everywhere he’d stepped in the last decade Wick was there, at least in his mind. The bastard haunted him, the mistake of attempting to be the man’s friend and co-worker was something he lived with everyday.

Seeing him with Elizabeth made his blood boil, it was as if the man knew exactly who would hurt him the most and that’s who he targeted. The only reason he’d walked away was so the ladies didn’t have to witness him pounding Wick into a pulp. That and the assault charge stemming from that would ruin his career. Brad would of course come out smelling like roses, just like he always did.

“Jack, mate. Are you going to tell me what that was about?”

“Nope.” he took a shot of whiskey, weighing up the pros and cons of just drinking from the bottle.

“Seriously man, I’m worried. I’ve not seen you like this before.”

“I’m fine Tom.” another shot. “I have history with Bradley Wick, thas all. None of it good.”

“That’s all I’m going to get?”

“Yup.” If he played his cards right he could be blind drunk before it even got dark.

“I don’t like this Jack. This isn’t like you.”

“Too bad, is me now. Take me or leave me, I donna care.”

Tom just shook his head, disappearing out the door, no doubt to see Maya.

It bothered him.

The fact that he liked Elizabeth Bennet bothered him.

He was jealous of Tom, who could give himself so easily.

The fact that he couldn’t read Lizzie bothered him, her elusiveness both enticing and infuriating.

Bradley Wick suddenly being in town enraged him.

Everything had gone to shit.

Himself included.

He couldn't wait to leave this shithole, not that he had much to look forward to in London, but it was better to miserable in familiar surroundings. As far away as he could get from Elizabeth, Brad, all of them. Callum would knock some sense into him over Christmas he was sure, his little brother never failed to be the logical one. Had he listened to Callum in the first place, the two years he'd wasted with Lisa would never have happened. None of his family had ever really liked her and made no secret of their feelings, Jack had just been too stubborn to listen.

Look where that had landed him.

He didn't have the stomach to finish the whiskey, drinking the night away had gotten old in his early twenties. Losing his head was also most certainly not the way to deal with the situation?

Should he warn the Bennets?

They wouldn't believe him, no one ever did. Wick had this fucking gift of charming his way out of every situation and he already had door in the door. Nothing Jack could say now would hold any sway, plus he would have to admit his own guilt and shame in past events. He wasn't ready for that, for the disappointment and the accusation, he got enough of that from his own mind.

He found himself wandering, the sun dipping below the horizon, the breeze from the lake chilly. Jack told himself he was just going to get dinner at the only good restaurant in town and that it had nothing to do with the place being directly across from Elizabeth's movie theatre apartment.

He kept telling himself that as he sat alone in the window with his food, watching her shadow as she read a book behind the curtains. He watched her lights go out at 8:30, tipped his waitress well and shuffled back to the hotel, ready to fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.  

Hoping to escape from himself for just a little while.

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